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COPY    OF     THE    IMPRIMATUR    OF    HIS    GRACE     THE 

MOST  REVEREND  ARCHBISHOP   OF  NEW   YORK, 

APPROVING     THE    PUBLICATION    OF 

''DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPITr 


Nihil  Obstat, 

HENRICUS  A.   BRANN, 

CENSOR  DEPUTATUS. 


JANUARY  16,  1891. 


IMPRIMATUR. 

►r  Michael  Augustine, 


ARCHBISHOP   OF   NEW  YORK. 


JANUARY  22,  1891. 


Copyrij;ht,  1891,  by 

MURPHY  &  McCarthy. 


3\ 


SANTA  BARBARA 


PREFACE. 


It  can  be  said  without  any  deviation  from  truth  that  the  subjects 
treated  of  in  this  volume  transcend  all  material  interests,  and  concern 
every  person  with  a  soul  to  save.  These  Discourses — many  of  them 
models  of  rhetoric — are  for  the  most  part  expositions  of  Christian  doc- 
trine and  prophetic  warnings  to  sinners ;  and,  in  their  selection,  no  pains 
have  been  spared  to  gather  into  one  volume  the  available  sermons  of 
most  eminent  preachers  in  all  English-speaking  countries  —  not  a 
few  of  whom  have  acquired  world-wide  fame.  Among  the  latter,  one 
of  the  most  noted  names  is  that  of  Cardinal  Newman,  the  brilliant 
author  of  the  "  Apologia,"  whose  own  life  was  an  unsullied  page  that 
enforces  every  emanation  of  his  genius,  and  whose  death  recently,  at  a 
patriarchal  age,  caused  widespread  regret  throughout  the  Anglican  as 
well  as  the  Roman  Church.  His  living  compeer,  the  venerable  Car- 
dinal Manning — a  leader  in  the  temperance  cause,  and  a  trusted  friend 
of  the  laboring  masses — is  also  in  the  group  of  great  preachers  in  this 
work  ;  as,  also,  the  learned  Cardinal  Wiseman,  the  eloquent  Father  Buck- 
ley, the  famous  controversialist  Father  Maguire ;  and,  amongst  our  coun- 
trymen, Cardinal  Gibbons  and  Archbishop  Ryan  hold  pre-eminent  rank. 
The  name  of  Cardinal  Gibbons  is  almost  universally  revered  by  reason  of 
his  broad  humanity,  and  his  well-proved  fealty  to  the  Republic  ;  and  his 
steady  adherence  to  these  principles  mark  him  as  a  most  worthy  successor 
of  the  patriot  bishop.  Dr.  Carroll,  in  the  episcopal  chair  of  Baltimore. 
Archbishop  Ryan,  it  is  generally  allowed,  takes  the  foremost  place  as 
a  pulpit  orator  in  this  country  at  the  present  day.  Speaking  of  the 
Archbishop's  recent  lecture  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera-House,  New  York, 
a  distinguished  American  statesman  and  orator  who  was  present,  said : 
"  I  have  never  heard  a  more  eloquent,  more  logical,  more  entrancing 
address." 

To  say  any  more  in  this  introduction  to  the  work  than  mention  a  few 
amongst  the  noted  names  that  adorn  its  pages,  and  to  indicate  in  a  gen. 
eral  way  the  nature  of  these  Discourses,  seems  entirely  unnecessary.  We 
may,  however,  add,  that  in  regard  to  the  type  and  binding  (on  which  no 
expense  has  been  spared),  as  also  the  engravings  and  artistic  embellish- 
ment in  general,  the  book  will,  we  think,  compare  favorably  with  any 
secular  work  that  has  issued  from  the  American  press  in  recent  years. 

The  Publishers. 
(iii) 


CONTENTS. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN. 

PAGE 

Sermon  on  Faith, i 

Sermon  on  True  Belief, 9 

Sermon  on  the  Blessed  Virgin,  *.         .        .       ' 21 

The  Ceremonies  of  Holy  Week  considered  in  connection  with  History,  .  33 

Religious  View  of  these  Functions, 52 


CARDINAL   NEWMAN. 

The  Salvation  of  the  Hearer  the  Motive  of  the  Preacher,    ...  75 

Neglect  of  Divine  Calls  and  Warnings, 87 

Men,  not  Angels,  the  Priests  of  the  Gospel, 99 

Purity  and  Love, 110 

Saintliness  the  Standard  of  Christian  Principle,  .         .         .         .122 

God's  Will  the  End  of  Life,        . 133 

Nature  and  Grace, 144 

Faith  and  Private  Judgment, 157 

Faith  and  Doubt,         ..........  169 

Mysteries  of  Nature  and  of  Grace, 182 

Mental  Sufferings  of  our  Lord  in  His  Passioji, 195 


CARDINAL   MANNING. 

The  Revolt  of  the  Intellect  against  God, 209 

The  Revolt  of  the  Will  against  God, 224 

The  Spirit  of  Antichrist, 238 


CARDINAL   GIBBONS.  '^ 
The  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 257 

(V) 


vi  CONTENTS. 


BISHOP  CONROY. 

PAGE 

Fear  of  Divine  Justice, 269 

First  Sunday  of  Lent, 276 

Stations  of  the  Cross, 282 

Dangerous  Reading,    .        .         . 288 


FATHER   RYAN. 


Heaven, 299 

Good  and  Evil, 306 

Abstinence, 313 

The  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass, 319 

The  Prayer  in  the  Garden, 328 

The  Two  Thieves, 335 

The  Resurrection,        .        .        .         .         .         .         .         .         .         -340 

Judgment  and  Mercy, 346 

Christian  Charity, 349 

Perseverance, 358 


FATHER   MERRICK.  ^ 

On  Attachment  to  Principles  of  Faith, 367 

On  the  Church  and  the  Age, 376 

On  the  Supernatural  Order, 383 


FATHER  FARRELL. 

The  Blessed  Eucharist, .         .  395 

Good  Friday,       ...........  404 

The  Nativity  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary, 411 

All  Souls, 416 

Lessons  of  the  Last  Judgment, 423 

The  Epiphany,    ...........  430 

Easter  Sunday,  ...........  434 

Pentecost,    ............  440 


CONTENTS.  vii 

FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 

PAGE 

On  Rash  yudgment^ 447 

On  Oaths, 452 

The  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass, 457 

On  the  Ends  for  which  Mass  is  Offered, 463 

On  Contrition, 469 

On  Confession, 476 

On  Indulgences, 484 

The  Holy  Rosary, 493 

Extreme  Unction, 498 

On  Baptism, 506 

Mortal  Sin, 510 

Duty  of  Parents, 515 

On  Scandal, 520 

Christmas  Day, 525 

Corpus  Christi, .528 

On  Love  of  our  Neighbor, -534 

On  Death, .         .         .         .         -537 

The  Day  of  Judgment, 541 

On  Purgatory, 544 

On  Grace, 54^ 

On  Hmnility, 551 

The  Angels, 556 

On  Prayer, 562 

FATHER   BUCKLEY. 

All  Saints  Day, 571 

Sermon  on  the  Blessed  Sacrament,      .         .         .         .         .         .         .580 

Sermon  on  the  Word  of  God, 588 

Sermon  on  False  Confidence,        .        .         .         .         .         .         -.         .596 

Sermon  on  Christian  Hope,         .         .         .        .         .         .         .         .     603 

Sermon  on  All  Souls'  Day,  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .611 

Sermon  on  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,     .     618 
Sermon  on  the  Value  of  Time,    .        .         .         .         .         .         .         .627 

Sermon  on  Human  Respect,         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     634 

Sermon  on  Prayer, 641 

Sermon  on  the  Passion,        .........     649 

Sermon  on  Divine  Providence,     .         .         .        .         .        .         .         .661 

Sermon  on  Filial  Obedience,        ........     668 

Sermon  on  Death, 675 


viii  CONTENTS, 


FATHER   MAGUIRE. 

PAGE 

The  Church  Infallible,  or  no  Church, 683 

Answers  to  all  the  Objectmis  against  the  Doctrine  of  Purgatory,         .  690 

The  Invocation  of  Saints, 696 

Answers  to  all  the  Objections  against  the  Doctrine  of  Transubstan- 

tiation, 701 

The  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass, 708 


FATHER   LAMBING.  ^ 

Practical  View  of  Mixed  Marriages, 719 

The  Duties  of  Young  PersoJis  in  Relation  to  Mixed  Marriages,  .  .  726 
The  Duties  of  Parerits  in  Relation  to  Mixed  Marriages,  .  .  .733 
The  Duties  of  Catholics  Married  to  Non-Catholics,     ....     740 


ARCHBISHOP   RYAN.  ^ 
Eloquent  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Baltimore  Centenary,  .        .        .    75 1 


FATHER   BRANN. 
Sermon  on  St.  Agnes, 766 


y 


CARDINAL  WISEMAN. 


His  Eminence  Nicholas  Cardinal  Wiseman,  Archbishop  of  West- 
minster, was  born  of  Irish  parents,  in  Seville,  Spain,  in  1802.  In  the  year 
1823  he  was  ordained  priest  and  Doctor  of  Divinity,  and  in  1850  created 
Archbishop  and  Cardinal.     His  Eminence  died  in  the  year  1865. 


fix) 


CAI^OIl^AL  WaSEMA^J. 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


SERMON   ON    FAITH. 

DELIVERED  BY   HIS   EMINENCE   DURING  A  TOUR  OF  IRELAND. 
"  This  is  the  victory  which  overcometh  the  world— our  Faith." — i  John  v.  4. 

HEN  we  contemplate  the  Apostles  undertaking  their  ministry, 
we  cannot  fail  to  be  struck  with  one  singular  feature  of  their 
characters,  the  calm  and  undoubting  manner  in  which  they 
assumed  command  over  the  whole  world.  The  world  of  their 
day  was  the  world  of  power,  of  wisdom,  and  of  glory.  Never  had  the 
Roman  empire  extended  Its  arms  so  wide  asunder  nor  held  the  extremi- 
ties of  its  dominions  with  so  firm  a  grasp.  Never  had  learning,  philoso- 
phy in  particular,  been  more  cultivated  and  favored  in  Rome  itself. 
Never  had  such  magnificent  monuments  been  raised,  such  luxury  dis- 
played, such  spectacles  witnessed,  as  in  the  Gospel  era,  from  Augustus 
to  Nero.  It  was  looking  down  immediately  on  a  world  like  this  that 
John,  already  enriched  by  the  experience  of  sixty  years  since  our  Lord's 
ascension,  confidently  writes  the  words  of  my  text.  He  describes,  in- 
deed, what  had  already  been  done. 

Yes,  the  Apostles  had  already  mastered  the  world.  They  began  by 
dividing  the  Roman  empire,  and  the  nations  beyond  its  pale,  into  eccle- 
siastical provinces;  shared  them  out  among  themselves  for  conversion, 
without  calculating  difficulties,  or  forecasting  consequences  ;  and,  what 
is  most  wonderful  still,  they  soon  reduced  them  into  full  subjection. 
Each  president  soon  saw,  seated  by  his  side,  a  bishop  who  ruled  the 
hearts  and  wills  of  thousands ;  and  every  proconsul  found  enthroned  in 
his  metropolis  a  primate  or  patriarch,  who  governed  an  ecclesiastical 
province  more  peacefully  than  he  did  a  civil  one.  And  this  new  distri- 
bution of  the  empire  long  survived,  and  survives  yet,  the  imperial  adjust- 
ment of  administration.  Thus  did  the  weak  confound  the  things  of  this 
world — confound  the  strong. 

And  so  the  Apostles  grappled  with  the  world  of  wisdom.  They  pro- 
nounced its  philosophy  folly,  its  learning  ignorance,  its  principles  false^ 


2  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

They  set  up  a  new  knowledge,  new  maxims,  an  unknown  truth.  They 
spoke  with  certainty,  not  experimentally ;  not  to  meet  the  present  want, 
or  suggest  an  expedient.  Every  disposition  which  they  made  was  a  per- 
petual law ;  every  admonition  an  eternal  precept.  Their  declarations 
were  not  to  be  matured  by  experience,  or  modified  by  time.  The  entire 
system  was  cast  at  once,  and  came  perfect  from  its  mould ;  with  a  confi- 
dent assurance  that  as  it  began  so  it  would  continue  to  the  end  of  time. 
And  thus  did  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  confound  the  wise. 

With  the  glorious  world  of  their  day,  the  Apostles  simply  closed  by 
contempt,  they  raised  nothing  against  it  but  the  cross ;  in  aught  else 
God  forbid  that  they  should  glory.  They  trod  barefoot  upon  its  gold 
and  jewels,  its  pageants  and  triumphs.  One  may  imagine  the  scorn  with 
which  Peter  or  Paul  looked  on  any  gorgeous  pomp  that  passed  them, 
thinking  in  his  heart :  "  One  day  a  far  more  noble  array  shall  bear  my 
crucified  Lord  across  this  very  spot,  so  proudly  adorned  by  the  perse- 
cuting emperor."  And  it  has  been  so.  Every  year  the  successor  of  St. 
Peter  carries  the  adorable  Mysteiy  of  Love  across  the  site  of  Nero's  cir- 
cus.* And  thus  did  the  contemptible  things  of  this  world  confound  the 
glorious. 

But  then  this  victory  was  not  thus  to  end.  So  long  as  the  world 
lasts,  it  has  to  be  overcome  by  faith.  There  is  a  sublimity  in  the  very 
simplicity  of  the  prophecy ;  for  what  less  than  a  prophecy  is  that  which 
has  to  be  fulfilled  in  every  age?  When  victory  is  mentioned,  conflict  is 
presupposed  ;  and  when  we  speak  of  perpetual  victory,  we  speak  also  of 
perpetual  conflict  between  that  which  conquers  and  that  which  has  to  be 
repeatedly  subdued. 

Nor  does  St.  John  speak  of  faith  as  the  result  or  the  crown  of  such  vic- 
tories, but  only  as  the  means  whereby  they  are  to  be  obtained.  Most  dis- 
tinct is  the  character  of  the  two,  of  faith  and  of  the  world.  The  first  is 
simple  and  definite;  unvarying  with  time  and  country — our  faith:  the 
other  vague  and  general ;  difTerent  in  every  region ;  changeable,  so  that 
no  one  could  then  foresee  its  possible  phases — the  world. 

Our  faith,  what  was  it?  It  was  not  our  learning,  our  skill,  or  our 
science.  It  was  not  what  was  to  be  the  possession  of  the  wise,  or  the 
inheritance  of  the  opulent,  or  the  spoil  of  the  valiant,  or  the  badge  of  the 
great  and  noble.  No.  It  might  be  possessed  by  any  orre  who  had  not 
the  least  eloquence  to  propagate  it,  nor  the  genius  to  defend  it,  nor  cour- 
age to  be  its  apostle.  This  faith  was  to  be  easy  of  access,  to  be  light  of 
burden,  and  to  adapt  itself  to  the  smallest  amount  of  ability.  Then  it 
was  not  to  be  the  faith  of  one,  or  of  another,  it  was  to  be  "  our  faith  "; 


The  square  of  St.  Peter's. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  3 

the  faith  of  each  and  every  one  who  belongs  to  the  true  Church,  and  is  in 
communion  of  her  sacraments.  Such  was  the  faith  that  had  to  conquer 
the  world. 

Let  us  suppose  that  at  the  time  when  St.  John  wrote  these  words, 
there  existed  in  the  Roman  empire  a  chieftain  who  had  obtained  many 
triumphs ;  who  had  conquered  provinces ;  had  enriched  his  legionaries ; 
had  added  the  title  of  the  Gallic  or  the  Parthic  to  his  name  ;  and  that  to- 
ward the  end  of  his  long  life,  he  should  concentrate  the  skill  gained  by 
long  experience  to  the  devising  of  a  means  whereby  the  empire  should  be 
rendered  forever  invincible.  Let  us  imagine  him  producing  a  weapon, 
be  it  sword  or  lance,  so  light  that  it  could  be  wielded  by  any  stripling 
conscript,  and  declare  solemnly  to  those  who  trusted  him,  that  by  its 
single  power  all  possible  foes  should  be  effectually  subdued.  Were  some 
one  standing  by,  who  possessed  the  gift  of  prophecy,  an  Apostle,  for  in- 
stance, we  might  conceive  him  glancing  into  futurity,  and  thus  address- 
ing him  : 

"  In  a  few  years  hence  all  the  power  of  Rome  will  be  required  on  her 
eastern  and  northeastern  frontier,  to  beat  off  the  flying  squadrons  of 
Parthians  and  Scythians.  They  rush  like  a  flight  of  locusts  round  your 
legions,  discharge  their  fatal  arrows  in  a  cloud  into  the  midst  of  them, 
and  sweep  into  the  desert  on  their  fleet  steeds,  defying  all  pursuit,  and 
never  come  within  reach  of  your  new  weapon.  How  will  you  cope  with 
them  ? 

"  Then  later  will  appear  a  race,  clad,  man  and  horse,  in  steel  of  finest 
temper,  dashing  like  a  whirlwind  into  the  enemy's  ranks ;  men  wielding 
huge  maces  of  studded  iron,  which  crush  the  helmet  deep  into  the  brain ; 
or  ponderous  swords  which  cleave  the  cuirassed  knight  to  his  saddle-bow. 
Have  you  calculated  how  your  new  arm  will  meet  their  assaults  ? 

*'  In  fine,  the  whole  face  of  war  will  change :  strength  of  arm  or  tem- 
per of  metal  will  little  avail.  From  iron  mouths  will  issue  clouds  of 
smoke,  amidst  a  roar  as  of  thunder,  hurling  missiles  that  bear  a  certain 
though  unseen  death,  and  able  by  one  blow  to  mow  down  entire  ranks  of 
enemies.  Will  your  youths,  armed  with  your  light  weapons,  be  able  to 
rush  against  the  jaws  of  these  monsters  and  silence  them  or  overthrow 
them?" 

Now,  something  to  human  ear  as  rash  and  as  unwise  as  would  have 
been  to  a  foreseeing  mind  such  a  promise  of  victory  to  an  unvarying  fee- 
ble weapon,  might  have  sounded  to  a  thoughtful  one  the  assurance  of  the 
Apostle  of  unfailing  success  to  a  weak  principle,  against  an  infinitely 
varying  antagonistic  power.  For  the  changes  in  civilization  could  easily 
be,  and  have  been,  as  great  as  those  in  warfare.  Yet  faith  has  sufficed 
for  all. 


4  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

What  more  varied  than  the  worlds  of  Britain  and  Gaul  from  those  of 
Rome  and  Africa,  from  those  of  the  half-civilized  regions  of  Asia,  or  the 
fabulous  East  beyond  the  Indus  ?  Yet,  one  by  one  faith  has  subdued 
them.     But  in  succeeding  ages  was  the  victory  without  fail  ? 

It  was  in  the  golden  days  of  Roman  greatness,  at  the  very  era  of  im- 
perial power  and  wisdom,  that  the  feeble  old  man  of  Ephesus  spoke  his 
word,  and  seemed  by  it  fearlessly  to  say :  "  Mighty  as  is  this  empire,  it  is 
in  your  power  to  overcome  it."  "And  how?"  "  By  your  faith."  It  was 
not  long  before  the  word  was  tested  ;  indeed  it  had  been  so  before  uttered. 
Fierce  persecution  assailed  the  Church.  The  religion  of  Christ,  at  first 
despised,  had  grown  up  strongly.  Its  enemies  thought  it  would  be  easy, 
should  it  become  troublesome,  to  pluck  it  up  by  the  roots.  If  this  had 
ever  been  possible,  it  was  now  too  late ;  the  axe  was  required  to  fell  the 
vigorous  plant.  Willing  victims  come  forward  on  every  side  ready  to 
attest,  even  by  death,  the  sincerity  of  their  faith.  Among  these  it  will 
not  be  difficult  to  select  a  champion,  who,  like  David,  shall  defy  and  put 
to  shame  the  entire  host  of  the  Philistines. 

See  there,  a  venerable  man  come  to  Rome  from  the  East,  on  purpose 
to  bear  such  witness.  He  wears  the  cloak  of  the  philosopher;  his  pen 
and  his  speech  seek  opportunities  to  explain  and  defend  those  truths,  on 
behalf  of  which  he  is  ready  to  die.  And  so  he  will ;  but  we  cannot 
accept  him  as  the  representative  of  our  thought.  Pardon  us,  holy  Justin, 
glorious  martyr  of  Christ !  Thou  art  filled  with  earthly  wisdom  as  with 
divine ;  thou  art  learned  in  all  wherein  thy  heathen  antagonists  pride 
themselves.  Thou  art  not  the  foolish  thing  which  we  seek,  that  we  may 
confound  the  wise. 

Then  behold,  there  stands  ready  before  the  tribunal  an  unlettered 
soldier,  who,  bred  in  camps  and  tutored  in  battle,  rough  and  hardy,  will 
scarcely  be  able  to  reply  to  the  interrogatories  of  its  judge.  He  has  de- 
clared himself  a  Christian,  he  has  proclaimed  his  faith.  Yes,  and  he  will 
brave  all  torments,  and  gladly  give  up  his  life  in  its  defense.  Still,  for- 
give us,  noble  centurion  and  blessed  martyr,  if  we  accept  thee  not  as  our 
avowed  delegate,  to  prove  the  axiom  of  John.  Thou  art  robust  and  stal- 
wart, used  to  suffer  pain  and  brave  public  death.  Thou  hast  of  the 
strength  of  this  world,  and  we  want  the  feeble  to  confound  its  strong. 
And  where  shall  we  find  this? 

Go  into  the  innermost  recesses  of  some  old  Christian  house — one  in 
which  the  true  religion  has  already  passed  into  an  inheritance,  and  the 
traditions  of  heathenism  have  died  out.  There  you  may  perhaps  find  a 
virtuous  maiden  concealed  like  a  modest  flower  from  the  gaze  of  men,  the 
joy  of  her  parents,  their  solitary  hope.  She  has  shrunk  instinctively  and 
by  her  choice  from  public  resorts ;  she  has  not  frequented  the  Forum,  she 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  5 

has  abhorred  the  licentious  theatre,  she  has  never  mingled  in  the  gay  as- 
semblies of  pagan  households.  Gentleness,  modesty,  and  sensitive  deli- 
cacy are  among  her  first  qualities,  carefully  cultivated  from  her  infancy. 
Let  her  be  seized  by  some  traitor,  and  suddenly  dragged  forth  before 
the  public  eye ;  as  that  of  one  who  has  lived  long  in  a  dim  light  and  is 
placed  at  once  in  the  glare  of  midday  is  her  dazzled  vision.  It  is  not  a 
crowd,  but  a  multitude  by  which  she  is  surrounded — a  clamorous,  lewd, 
and  brutal  mob.  Her  modest  charms  whet  their  appetites  for  blood.  On 
each  side  of  her  are  coarse  and  savage  executioners,  red  from  the  wine- 
press of  martyrdom,  in  which  they  have  crushed  the  best  fruit  of  Christ's 
vineyard,  playful  in  the  handling  of  their  rude  implements  of  torture. 
Before  her  is  the  judge  with  his  assessors  and  attendants,  cold  and  stern, 
determined  not  to  be  overcome  by  a  child  like  her.  She  may  hear  at  a 
short  distance  the  howling  of  wild  beasts  and  the  yells  of  fifty  thousand 
human  beings  equally  thirsty  for  her  blood.  Her  life  hangs  in  the  bal- 
ance against  the  words  that  she  shall  speak ;  with  life  are  honor,  ease,  en- 
joyment, rank.  All  are  hushed  to  dumbness  listening  for  the  words  of 
the  bashful,  blushing  maiden,  anxious  and  eager  for  her  to  yield.  "  Only 
say,  *  I  renounce  the  Christian  faith,'  and  you  are  safe,"  insinuates  blandly 
the  softened  president.  She  pauses  but  for  a  moment  as  she  lifts  her 
eyes  to  heaven,  and  stretches  forth  her  arms  in  prayer  ;  then  with  a  calm 
look  and  firm  voice  exclaims :  "  I  believe  in  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

That  is  enough ;  a  shout  of  fury  cuts  off  all  further  explanation  ;  the 
wild  beasts  are  let  loose  upon  her,  or  she  is  hideously  tortured,  till  at 
length  her  mangled  remains  are  dragged  and  flung  away,  to  be  recovered 
and  enshrined  by  friendly  hands.  Who  has  conquered  here  ?  The  very 
enemy  owns  it.  The  crowd  itself  is  abashed  ;  more  thoughtful  and 
feeling  hearts  are  softened  ;  the  very  judge  mutters,  "  She  has  fairly  beat 
me."  And  what  was  it  in  her  that  conquered  ?  Neither  strength  nor 
wisdom,  only  her  faith.  She  believed  in  Jesus  Christ ;  she  proclaimed 
this  belief,  and  it  brought  on  her  trial;  she  held  it  steadfast,  and  she 
overcame  by  it. 

A  couple  of  centuries  more  and  that  empire  of  paganism  is  extinct, 
and  the  Christian  one  of  the  West  is  fast  declining.  Italy  is  become  the 
prey  of  barbarous  hordes,  who  in  their  ferocity  spare  nothing,  and  in 
their  rapid  succession  leave  no  intervals  for  restoration,  or  even  for 
breath.  One  of  these  tribes,  the  most  terrible  of  the  invaders,  has  crossed 
the  Alps,  spreading  desolation  around,  and  sending  forward  to  Rome 
notice  of  its  anticipated  glut  amidst  the  remains  of  ancient  riches.  So 
successful,  so  haughty  is  the  career  of  this  irresistible  band,  that  its 
leader,  Attila,  takes  the  name,  which  all  accord  to  him,  of  "  the  Scourge 
of  God."     But  on  the  Chair  of  Peter  sits  a  Pontiff  of  noblest  Roman 


6  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

spirit,  national  and  ecclesiastical,  learned,  saintly,  eloquent,  and  fearless ; 
one  who  knows  it  to  be  among  the  highest  prerogatives  of  the  shepherds 
of  his  fold  to  meet  the  wolf  that  would  attack  it,  beat  it  back,  or  give 
their  lives  for  their  sheep.  He  goes  forth,  therefore,  from  his  capital, 
attended  by  his  unarmed  clergy,  travels  to  the  boundaries  of  middle  Italy^ 
and  confronts  the  barbarian  chieftain  at  the  head  of  his  savage  host. 

He  speaks  to  him  with  authority  and  gentleness  combined  ;  the  proud 
Northern  listens  like  a  docile  child  to  the  paternal  admonition,  replies 
with  deep  respect,  submits,  and  commands  his  impatient  followers  to 
banish  from  their  thoughts  all  golden  visions  of  the  south,  breaks  up  his 
camp,  and  turns  back.  What  a  victory  over  that  new  world  of  stern  and 
warlike  mould,  which  was  about,  not  so  much  to  absorb  existing  races  as 
to  stamp  them  all  with  its  own  image,  and  mingle  intimately  its  iron  with 
their  crumbling  clay  !  And  by  what  means  was  it  wrought  ?  What  con- 
quered here  ?  Faith.  The  perfect  trust  of  Leo — so  well  called  the 
Great — in  the  authority  and  perpetuity  of  his  See,  in  the  promises  made 
to  Peter,  in  its  rock-like  power  to  beat  back  the  waves  of  earthly  might, 
was  the  form  taken  by  that  faith,  which,  through  him,  overcame  the 
Huns,  and  in  them  and  Genserick,  soon  after,  with  his  Vandals,  the  new 
world  of  rude  prowess  and  unsapped  vigor.  This  is  the  victory — your 
faith. 

And  now,  coming  down  nearer  to  our  own  times,  we  may  wonder  if, 
when  John  wrote  these  words,  he  saw  in  a  new  Apocalypse  the  proud 
Reformer  of  the  sixteenth  century  studying  how  he  might  pervert  them 
to  work  their  own  refutation ;  striving  to  make  them  mean,  that  dry^ 
personal  belief,  without  a  particle  of  other  virtue,  or  even  alliance  with 
Faith's  brightest  sister.  Charity,  should  suffice  for  salvation,  and  thereby 
overthrow  the  faith  which  in  Agnes  or  Leo  had  overcome  the  ancient 
worlds,  and  make  it  lie  a  prostrate  ruin  at  the  feet  of  his  sensual  world  ? 
Did  he  contemplate  the  French  philosopher  of  a  later  period  collectings 
with  wicked  industry  all  the  known  or  supposed  results  of  science  and 
history,  to  destroy  faith,  and  thus  break  or  rust  the  weapon  whereby  the 
world  was  to  be  vanquished  ?  And  after  that  class  of  sneering,  sarcastic 
men,  who  disbelieved  everything,  even  their  own  assertions  and  almost 
their  own  existence,  had  passed  away,  did  the  Seer  of  Patmos  behold 
another  in  Germany  and  England  taking  up  their  cast-off  tools,  repolish- 
ing  and  resharpening  them,  to  carry  on,  with  greater  ingenuity  and 
coolness,  and  without  the  same  scoffs  or  mocking  air,  the  attempt  to 
destroy  faith  in  the  learned  and  unlearned? 

This,  my  brethren,  is  now  going  on  around  us,  at  least  in  the  neigh- 
boring island.  Yet  the  taint  of  infidelity  has  not  reached  Ireland ;  it  is 
a  land  in  which  it  can  no  more  live  than  any  other  venomous  reptile. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  7 

There  is  a  repulsive  vigor  on  its  very  shore,  a  belt  of  rejective  power 
girding  its  coast,  which  does  not  allow  the  insidious  destroyer  to  crawl 
in.  And  of  what  is  this  formed  ?  Is  it  that  the  great  progress  of  learn- 
ing enables  your  poor  to  oppose  knowledge  to  knowledge,  and  so  repel 
infidel  teaching?  Who,  for  a  moment,  believes  it?  Does  any  one 
imagine  that  because  our  children  are  taught  to  measure  the  distance 
from  city  to  city  over  the  map  of  the  world,  or  because  they  learn  the 
names  and  habits  of  four-footed  beasts,  of  birds,  and  fishes,  the  likeness 
of  which  covers  their  school-walls,  or  because  they  are  made  quick  at 
mental  computation  or  at  grammatical  derivations,  they  are  made  proof 
against  "  oppositions  of  knowledge,  falsely  so  called  "  ?  You  know  well 
that  it  is  not  the  extension  of  such  secular  education  which  prevents  the 
corruption  and  seduction  of  the  Irish  people.  It  is  their  Faith,  simple 
and  lively,  that  foils  and  puts  to  rout  every  attempt  to  lead  them  astray ; 
which  does  battle  with  the  world  of  subtle  disputation,  bold  denial,  and 
learned  theories.  The  simple  Creed  in  the  peasant's  mouth  is  a  preserv- 
ative against  all  errors.  His  humble  confidence  in  the  sound  teaching 
of  his  clergy,  his  artless  submission  to  the  authority  of  his  bishop,  his 
firm  attachment  to  the  Chair  of  Peter,  the  consolations  which  he  has 
derived  from  it  in  every  dark  or  trying  hour,  its  associations  with  all  that 
is  beautiful  and  virtuous  to  his  mind, — such  are  the  securities  of  his  lively 
faith  ;  and  these  suffice  to  render  it  unchangeable.  This  is  the  Faith  by 
which  the  things  that  are  not  in  the  estimation  of  the  world  overcome  the 
things  that  are,  that  no  flesh  may  glory  in  God's  sight. 

Nor  can  any  one  pretend  that  this  is  a  barren  and  uncultivated 
quality.  Only  look  around  you  and  ask  what  has  given  birth,  growth, 
and  beauty  to  this  holy  edifice.  It  is  but  one  of  the  many  fruits  of 
Ireland's  productive  faith.  No  doubt  much  has  been  bountifully  contrib- 
uted by  the  rich  toward  its  erection  and  its  adornment ;  but  it  is  to  the 
faith  of  the  poor  that  the  unceasing  and  unwearying  task  of  both  is  due  ; 
and  they  have  right  to  glqry  in  the  work.  Scarcely  can  I  remember  a 
parish  church  more  complete  in  every  respect  than  this.  It  has  been  con- 
ceived in  a  noble  and  generous  spirit — one  commensurate  with  that  faith 
which  is  the  faith  of  thousands ;  it  is  spacious,  bold,  yet  regular  in  form, 
pleasing  in  proportions,  and  accurate  in  its  design.  Every  detail  is  here, 
every  part  finished  ;  all  its  windows  glow  with  sacred  light,  filtered,  as  it 
were,  of  coarser  rays,  and  purified  as  they  pass  through  the  warm  tints  of 
heavenly  images.  And  now,  to  complete  the  holy  work,  roof,  pillar,  and 
wall  give  back  that  light  varied  by  their  own  varied  hues,  and  sparkling  on 
their  burnished  gold.  Brilliant,  indeed,  and  glorious  is  the  whole  spectacle 
of  this  church,  thus  giving  us  proof  how  the  faith,  which  no  persecution  has 
been  able  to  shake,  no  seduction  to  weaken,  no  time  to  wear  away,  still, 


8 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


in  all  that  regards  advancement  of  whatever  kind,  knows  how  to  enjoy  its 
full  advantages.  It  has  engaged  here  every  resource  of  revived  art,  in 
building,  in  carving,  in  painting,  in  staining,  and  in  metal-work,  to  pay 
homage  to  the  faith  that  first  raised,  and  then  would  beautify,  the  House 
of  God. 

Then  if  you  wish  to  make  and  see  this  country  happy,  look  first  of  all 
to  the  preservation  of  its  people's  faith.  Everything  else  that  is  good 
will  flourish  and  prosper  if  engrafted  on  this,  while  its  venerable  episco- 
pate, so  noble  a  portion  of  which  I  have  the  happiness  of  being  associated 
with  here,  under  its  learned  and  saintly  primate,  and  the  zealous  clergy 
of  whom  so  many  have  come  to  grace  our  solemnity,  will  never  slacken 
their  hands  in  defending  and  cultivating  this  precious  inheritance  of 
Ireland.  Let  no  one  be  led  away  by  the  idea  that  in  endeavoring  to  pro- 
mote material  progress,  religious  considerations  may  be  kept  out  of  view. 
There  never  can  or  will  be  any  real  good  where  this  separation  of  interests 
is  contemplated  ;  for  there  is  no  real  good  but  what  is  moral,  and  no  solid 
moral  good  which  is  not  religious.  Keep  a  watchful  eye  on  every  system 
of  education  which  tends  to  lessen,  still  more  to  exclude  religious  influ- 
ence in  its  teaching.  However  tempting  the  scheme,  however  liberal  the 
promises,  however  plausible  the  motives,  listen  not  to  the  proposal.  By 
whatever  names  the  institutions  may  be  called,  keep  jealously  aloof  from 
them  :  but  in  the  education  of  the  poor,  more  especially,  prevent,  by  every 
possible  means,  any  encroachment  on  the  purely  Catholic  principles  of 
training  the  child  in  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  religion  ;  give  him 
faith,  strong  and  lively,  solid  and  pure,  and  he  may  go  forth  into  the 
world  with  the  assurance  that  he  will  conquer. 


M 

SERMON  ON  TRUE  BELIEF. 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  CONSECRATION  OF  ST.   MICHAEL'S  CHURCH, 
'    BALLINASLOE,   IRELAND. 

*'Our  mouth  is  open  to  you,  O  ye  Corinthians  !    Our  heart  is  enlarged." — 2  COR. 

vi.  II. 

fUCH,  my  brethren,  are  the  words  which  naturally  came  to  my 
lips  on  reflecting  how,  for  the  first  time,  they  should  open  be- 
fore you  after  many  years'  silence  in  this  island.  They  refused 
to  address  you  in  words  that  could  savor  even  remotely  of 
controversy,  for  I  felt  that  I  had  to  speak  to  a  congregation  of  faithful 
people,  in  whom  the  true,  sound,  and  orthodox  faith  was  so  deeply  im- 
planted as  to  require  no  words  of  encouragement  from  me.  I  felt  that  it 
must  be  presumption  to  address  you  in  words  of  instruction  in  the 
presence  of  an  assembly  of  venerable  bishops,  each  of  whom  is  more 
worthy  to  teach  than  I,  and  who  yet  form  a  portion  of  those  whom  I  am 
bound  to  address.  No,  my  brethren,  I  felt  it  was  only  in  words  of  con- 
gratulation— words  of  joy — words  of  exultation  I  could  speak  to  you  : 
that  I  might  associate  myself  with  those  deep,  earnest,  and  most  holy 
feelings  which  must  pervade  you  on  a  day  like  this  ;  and  that  it  was  only 
because  my  heart  would  expand  in  the  midst  of  you  that  I  would  even 
presume  to  speak  to  you.  All  I  have  seen  around  me — all  that  at  this 
moment  I  see — serves  but  to  expand  and  widen  still  more  my  heart,  and 
to  deepen  within  it  those  feelings  which  are  common  to  us  all,  and 
which  in  their  exuberance  must  needs  overflow  ;  and  thus  the  heart  being 
enlarged,  the  mouth  must  needs  open  to  become,  as  it  were,  the  floodgate 
through  which  these  feelings  may  be  poured  out,  so  as  to  mingle  with 
yours.  And  then,  this,  our  common  joy,  like  the  waters  which  the 
prophet  Ezechiel  saw  first  collected  in  the  temple  and  then  issue  through 
its  gates  overflowing,  will  go  forth  from  these  more  sacred  precincts,  a 
swelling  flood,  to  mingle  with  the  exultation  of  the  multitudes  outside. 

Therefore,  my  brethren,  you  will  excuse  me  if  in  my  address  I  say  that 
which  has  been  said  to  you  a  thousand  times — if  I  repeat  to  you  what  your 
own  feelings  probably  have  already  suggested.  For  when  I  see  myself 
here,  in  the  centre  of  this  splendid  edifice,  it  is  not  the  beauty  of  its  archi- 
tecture, nor  the  solidity  of  its  construction,  nor  the  amplitude   of  its 

(9) 


10  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

dimensions,  which  strike  and  move  me.  I  can  consider  it  but  in  one  light 
— not  merely  as  a  magnificent  temple — not  merely  as  an  evidence  of  the 
skill,  or  the  taste,  or  the  generosity  with  which  it  has  been  raised  ;  but  it 
is  to  me  only  another  monument  of  your  faith — of  that  undying  faith 
which  is  the  portion  of  your  country.  It  is  upon  this  alone  I  can  speak 
to  you  to-day.  Whatever  I  'may  say,  suggested  by  circumstances,  will  be 
simply  to  tell  you  how  I  feel,  and,  therefore,  how  I  must  express  my 
thoughts  upon  that  which  forms  the  great  glory  of  this  land — its  pre- 
rogative— its  privilege  from  God,  that  unalterable  and  unfailing  faith 
which  has  endured  for  ages,  which  is  prouder  now  than  it  has  been  at  any 
previous  period,  and  which  will,  I  trust,  go  on  forever,  manifesting  itself 
even  with  greater  magnificence  than  it  has  done  in  our  days. 

If  every  country  and  every  nation  has  received  special  blessings  from 
God,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  tell  you  that  the  one  which  distinguishes 
this  land  to  every  one  who  visits  you — that  which  marks  you  in  history, 
and  will  give  its  peculiar  characteristic  to  the  narrative  of  events  in  this 
your  Island  of  Saints — is  the  wonderful  gift  of  a  living  and  lively  faith, 
to  which  tests  have  been  applied,  such  as  it  has  never  pleased  God  to  sub- 
ject any  other  nation  to.  The  course  of  Divine  Providence  has  generally 
been  that  persecution  should  assail  an  infant  church.  We  are  told  that 
the  young  plant  requires  the  watering  of  the  gardener  that  it  may  take  a 
deep  root  in  order  to  spring  high ;  and  we  know  well  with  what  it  is  that 
God  has  watered  in  almost  every  country,  the  infant  church.  We  know 
it  is  the  general  law  that  the  seed  of  faith  should  be  cast  in  sorrow,  in 
order  that  its  sheaves  may  be  borne  in  joy.  Often  the  apostle  himself 
dropped  into  his  own  furrow  and  fertilized  it,  but  the  sprinkling  of  tears, 
mingled  generally  with  blood,  was  the  rule  whereby  God  gave  the  first 
birth,  and  then  increase  to  His  church,  wherever  through  the  ministry  of 
man  He  planted  it.  Here  this  order  of  Providence  may  be  said,  to  a  great 
extent,  to  have  been  reversed.  It  seems  as  if  there  had  been  something 
pure  and  even  congenial  in  the  very  soil,  which  opened  itself  and  received 
gladly  the  seed  of  life,  and  made  it  produce  one  hundred  fold  ;  so  that  the 
life  of  one  great  and  holy  Apostle  sufficed  to  see  the  entire  land  Catholic. 
It  was  because  here  almighty  wisdom  wished  to  give  evidence  of  the 
power  of  God  and  of  His  Providence  with  His  church — to  show  how  faith 
could  endure  the  trials  of  centuries — not  that  sharp  tribulation  of  the 
sword,  which  raises  the  courage  of  men,  and  makes  even  their  natural 
feelings  come  in  to  aid  the  instincts  and  dictates  of  faith  and  of  grace  ; 
but  that  slow  and  wearying  action  which  tires  out  the  patience  of  men, 
and  seems  almost  to  wear  out  also  the  action  of  grace  and  to  complete  the 
proof  in  one  land  that  there  was  no  trial  to  which  the  faith  could  be  ex- 
posed which  it  was  not  powerful  enough  to  conquer. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  \\ 

And  this  has  been  the  trial  which,  if  viewed  by  merely  human  eyes, 
gives  us  the  strongest  evidence  that  this  faith  is  divine,  that  its  energy  is 
celestial,  and  that  its  gift  is  of  God.  If  it  had  been  but  a  human  institu- 
tion or  principle,  it  must  long  since  have  yielded.  All  which  it  has  re- 
sisted and  overcome  proves  to  demonstration  that  the  finger  of  God  has 
been  instrumental  in  this  long  preservation,  and  His  eye  wonderfully 
watching  over  that  which  was  His  own. 

My  brethren,  take  the  first  and  simplest  test  of  the  power  of  human 
opinion.  In  the  moral  as  in  the  physical  world,  bodies  act  reciprocally  in 
proportion  to  their  masses ;  but  we  know  well  what  must  overcome.  The 
earth  curves  according  to  its  own  will  the  direction  of  its  satellite,  and 
then,  after  making  it  revolve  round  its  own  great  orbit,  obedient  in  its 
turn  with  the  rest  of  the  planetary  system,  it  yields  to  the  attractive  force 
of  the  huge  mass  which  dominates  over  it.  It  is  the  same  with  those 
bodies  on  which  moral  action  is  exercised.  The  peculiarity  of  the  social 
state  in  this  country  has  divided  the  population  into  two  distinct  classes. 
I  am  not  going  for  a  moment  to  dwell  upon  the  political  or  social  charac- 
ter, or  upon  the  causes  or  consequences  of  this  state.  I  assume  the  fact 
as  it  is,  and  I  ask  you  to  put  side  by  side  these  two  bodies  acting,  nec- 
essarily, the  one  upon  the  other,  in  this  as  in  every  other  country.  Throw 
upon  one  side  wealth,  nobility,  and  worldly  position,  the  influence  of 
superior  education  of  the  highest  class,  literature,  science,  and  whatever 
belongs  to  those  who  command,  according  to  this  world.  Cast  into  the 
other  scale  poverty  and  misery,  the  absence  almost  for  ages  of  the  power 
of  culture,  the  dependence  totally  for  all  that  is  necessary  in  this  life,  for 
daily  food  itself,  upon  those  who  belong  to  the  other  class.  See  these  two 
bodies  acting  for  centuries  reciprocally  upon  one  another.  Suppose  it  to 
be  a  matter  of  mere  human  opinion,  human  principle,  science,  or  of  that 
knowledge  of  every  sort  that  distinguishes  them,  and  judge  if  it  is  pos-' 
sible  that  for  hundreds  of  years  that  which  is  so  much  greater,  more 
powerful,  and  more  wise  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  ought  not  to  have 
crumbled  and  crushed  under  itself  that  which  was  absolutely  subject  to 
it,  and  lying  under  its  feet,  and  reduced  it  into  a  homogeneous  mass  ;  and 
breaking  down  the  barriers  of  opinion  that  separated  the  two,  have  made 
them  in  this  become  but  one. 

I  ask  you  not  merely  to  solve  this  problem  in  theory,  but  to  solve  it  in 
practice,  and  to  do  that  go  to  the  neighboring  island  where  God  has  cast 
my  own  lot,  and  see  what  has  been  the  result  of  a  similar  condition  of 
things.  At  the  period  when  first  religious  differences  began  in  that 
country,  we  know  that  the  mass  of  the  people  were  attached  most  deeply 
to  the  religion  of  their  forefathers.  They  made  pilgrimages  of  grace,  as 
they  were  called — they  rose,  again  and  again,  in  insurrection,  to  prevent 


12  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

that  change  of  religion  which  was  attempted  to  be  introduced  amongst 
them,  and  they  were  crushed.  Their  efforts  were  stifled,  and  what  was 
the  result  ?  A  few  years  of  superiority  in  one  class  which  monopolized  all 
earthly  advantages,  wore  away  the  patient  resistance  of  those  who  would 
not  otherwise  have  altered  their  faith,  until  at  length  districts  which  once 
were  most  fervent  and  most  zealously  Catholic,  hardly  heard  that  name 
amongst  them,  and  scarcely  a  trace  was  left  in  the  feelings  and  traditions 
of  the  people,  of  the  former  existence  of  the  Catholic  Church  amongst 
them.  What  has  caused  this  diff^erence?  How  is  it  that  there  it  has  been 
easy  to  sweep  away,  and  that  without  any  great  destruction  of  outward 
and  visible  securities,  the  whole  fabric  of  the  faith,  leaving  nothing,  not 
even  the  least  vestige  of  a  name  to  mark  a  traditionary  remembrance  of 
the  old  faith  and  holy  thoughts  of  the  people  ?  I  cannot  see  any  dif- 
ference except  in  this,  that  there  was  a  heavenly  power  exercised  here — 
that  the  whole  of  this  trial  was  permitted  by  God  for  a  great  and  special 
purpose.  I  cannot  see  but  this  difference,  that  it  pleased  God  by  one  of 
those  dispensations,  which  we  must  not  endeavor  to  penetrate,  to  allow 
religion  there  to  take,  perhaps,  a  nobler  and  more  magnificent  hold  upon 
the  surface  of  the  land,  demonstrating  itself  by  more  splendid  edifices,  by 
more  noble  endowments  of  universities,  and  colleges,  and  hospitals ; 
whilst  here  He  made  its  roots  strike  deep  into  the  very  soil,  and  so  take 
possession  of  the  soil,  that  it  was  impossible  to  ever  uproot  it. 

You  know,  and  I  need  not  tell  you,  how  tremendous  were  those  cruel 
acts  whereby  property  was  either  confiscated  or  destroyed,  and  the  in- 
liabitants  of  whole  districts  were  swept  away,  with  a  view,  if  possible,  to 
remove  the  Catholic  population,  and  with  them  take  away  the  faith  from 
the  land.  But,  notwithstanding  all  this,  the  faith  still  survives.  For,  my 
dear  brethren,  they  could  not  tear  away  the  name  of  the  saint  from  the 
cairn  upon  the  rock  or  the  mountain  to  which  he  had  immortally  attached 
it.  They  could  not  destroy  that  veneration  for  the  holy  places  to  which 
pilgrims  went  in  their  joy  or  in  their  sorrow,  nor  make  them  lose  the  re- 
membrance of  the  saint  who  had  imparted  holiness  to  their  valleys.  They 
could  not  make  your  sacred  walls  and  hallowed  fountains  cease  to  yield 
their  precious  streams,  or  lose  the  gifts  which  endeared  them  to  the 
devotion  of  the  nation.  And  more,  they  could  not  turn  the  hearts 
of  the  people  from  the  rifled  monuments  of  the  piety  of  their  fathers,  their 
venerable  roofless  churches,  under  the  shade  of  whose  walls  lie  buried  the 
bones  of  their  Catholic  ancestors,  nor  from  those  holy  monasteries 
which,  if  they  no  longer  shelter  learning,  at  least  preserve  in  their  history 
all  that  was  precious  of  those  who  have  been  faithful  to  that  same  religion. 
No,  they  could  not  take  away  from  the  land  such  monuments  and  such 
traditions.      They  could  not  even,  in  altering  the  language  of  the  people, 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  13 

pluck  from  their  tongues  the  sweet  names  which  associated,  not  only  with 
venerable  monasteries,  but  with  countless  fields  and  valleys,  signifying 
that  some  church  or  holy  edifice  had  once  stood,  or  some  pious  servant  of 
God  had  once  dwelt  there.  The  land  was  sanctified  throughout,  and  that 
faith  spoke  out  not  alone,  as  the  prophet  says,  from  "  the  stones  in  the 
walls,"  but  from  the  very  rocks  and  valleys  of  the  land,  and  no  power  of 
man,  no  influence  of  class  could  remove  it  from  the  foundation  which  it 
had  in  the  very  soil,  as  well  as  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  this  country. 
I  know  what  those  will  say  who  smile  at  all  such  ideas,  and  think  that  I 
am  speaking  with  prejudiced  warmth  and  enthusiasm  about  what  by  them 
Is  regarded  as  an  evil.  They  will  say,  "  Yes,  the  Catholic  religion  has 
taken  deep  root  in  Ireland  as  a  weed  would  do,  which  it  is  difficult,  by  any 
cultivation,  to  pluck  up  and  eradicate."  But  I,  my  brethren,  accept  that 
simile,  and  bless  God  that  it  is  so,  and  I  will  say  why.  There  is  not  a 
plant,  however  precious  and  valuable  to  man,  which  is  not  somewhere  the 
indigenous  growth  of  the  land.  There  is  not  a  grain  which  you  cultivate 
in  your  fields — not  a  tree  that  blossoms  in  your  orchard — not  a  flower  that 
blooms  and  yields  sweet  odor  in  your  gardens,  which  somewhere  does  not 
belong  to  the  soil,  and  can  no  more  be  eradicated  thence,  than  the  briar  or 
the  thistle  from  its  native  place.  Such  I  believe  to  be  faith  in  this  country. 
It  is  the  true  growth  of  the  soil  itself ;  and  beautiful  indeed,  as  the  most 
fair  and  lovely  flower  of  the  garden — graceful  as  the  rose  of  Jericho,  sweet 
as  the  lily  of  the  valley,  stately  as  the  cedar  on  Libanus,  fruitful  as  the 
grain  which,  in  the  steppes  of  Tartary,  is  to  be  gathered  ripe,  and  uncut 
by  the  sickle,  rich  as  the  clustering  grapes  of  the  vines  of  Engaddi,  where 
they  grow  amid  the  ordinary  productions  of  the  soil ;  and  where,  unlike 
those  in  the  gardens  of  Judea,  they  need  not  to  be  planted  or  pruned. 
As  indigenous  as  any  of  these — as  fruitful  and  as  beautiful,  the  Catholic 
faith  is  the  growth  of  this  land ;  and  not  only,  therefore,  do  I  accept  the 
simile,  but  I  thank  God  that  it  is  so — for  again  I  say,  it  cannot  be  rooted 
out.  Oh !  no,  it  shall  not  be  rooted  out.  My  dear  brethren,  that  God 
who  has  watched  for  so  many  hundred  years  over  His  faith  in  this 
land,  never  will  He  allow  His  work  of  ages  to  be  made  void  by  the 
policy,  by  the  learning,  by  the  astuteness  of  man  ;  but  that  which 
He  Himself  has  planted  shall  grow,  and  strengthen,  and  become  more 
powerful,  and  shall  send  forth  its  branches,  as  it  is  doing,  to  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth.  The  emigrants  will  carry  this  holy  faith  beyond 
the  waters  to  the  farthest  islands  of  the  sea.  The  missionary  will 
go  rejoicing  in  his  work,  and  bearing  the  glad  tidings  of  God  and  of 
salvation  to  the  savages  of  distant  shores ;  and  the  faith  planted  here, 
after  it  has  struck  such  deep  root,  and  after  it  has  withstood  the  storms 
which  have  so  long  raged  over   it  in   its   native   land,  will   fill   islands 


14:  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

and  continents  with  the  blessings  which  it  has  here  bestowed  upon  those 
who  surround  me. 

Or,  my  dear  brethren,  I  will  rather  compare  it  to  another  of  the  gifts 
of  God,  suggested  by  this  thought.  There  are  lands,  as  we  all  know,  in 
which  the  Almighty  has  so  scattered  gold,  that  it  is  everywhere  to  be 
found.  It  is  to  be  picked  up  in  large  masses  on  the  mountain-sides, 
or  dug  out  where  deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  or  it  is  to  be  gathered 
from  the  sands  of  the  torrent  or  the  desert ;  but  everywhere  it  is  to 
be  found  mingled  with  the  soil.  Now,  such  is  the  faith  of  Ireland. 
Throughout  the  length  and  the  breadth  of  the  land  it  is  present  to  us  in  a 
fair  and  alluring  form.  It  is  mingled  with  the  entire  soil,  and  is  to  be 
found  in  the  sands  of  your  sacred  streams  and  holy  springs.  It  is  to  be 
discovered  pervading  every  retreat  in  which  the  hermit  has  once  lived, 
or  in  the  desolate  valley  in  which  the  saint  has  died.  .  Everywhere  this 
pure  gold  of  faith  is  to  be  found.  Oh !  treasure  it  well,  remembering 
that  the  smallest  fragment  of  it  is  more  valuable  than  all  the  riches  that 
earth  can  give.  It  is  a  treasure  which  cannot  be  consumed  on  earth,  and 
which  reserves  the  fulness  of  its  blessings  for  heaven. 

But,  my  brethren,  the  field  in  this  world  in  which  God  has  treasured 
this  precious  seed  of  faith  is  the  soul  of  man.  There  He  has  laid  it  deep, 
and  there  it  has  been  closely  watched  and  nourished  in  Ireland,  until  at 
length  its  fruits  are  becoming  manifest  as  to-day  in  all  that  surrounds  us. 
Religion  presents  two  distinct  aspects.  The  one  is  that  which  is  purely 
interior — that  faith,  that  hope,  that  love  which  are  in  the  Christian — 
those  holy  thoughts,  those  sweet  graces  and  converses  with  God,  those 
sacramental  influences  which  fill  and  nourish  the  soul — all  these  form  the 
true  substance  of  religion.  But  it  has  also  its  outward  aspect ;  and  when 
the  two  are  united  for  a  period  of  years,  not  only  do  those  things,  which 
are  external  and  visible,  become  subsidiary  to  faith,  supporting  and 
encouraging  it,  and  assisting  its  growth — but- perhaps  they  are  attended 
also  with  this  great  risk,  that  the  two  become  so  united  together  that  it 
is  impossible  even  to  impair  the  one  without  injuring  the  other.  It  is  as 
a  tree  around  which  a  more  tender  plant  has  entwined  itself,  weaving  its 
branches  with  those  of  the  supporting  stem,  clothing  and  adorning  it  in 
return  with  its  leaves,  its  blossoms,  and  its  fruit,  the  fibres  of  the  roots 
growing  closely  interlaced  together.  Attempt  to  cut  down  at  last  the 
one  plant  which  gives  nothing  but  strength  and  support,  and  the  danger 
is,  that  you  will  not  only  injure  but  perhaps  totally  destroy  that  which  it 
sustains.  And  so,  although  religion  consists  pure  and  undefiled  in  that 
which  is  within,  in  all  the  virtues  to  which  it  gives  birth,  and  in  all  the 
beauty  with  which  it  adorns  life,  yet  it  has  pleased  the  providence  of 
God  that  His  Church  should  become  so  associated  with  outward  appear- 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  15 

ances,  giving  support  and  often  glory,  that  it  is  difficult  to  assail  the  one 
without  injuring  the  other.  The  very  name  of  Church  has  acquired  a 
double  signification  for  the  exterior  building  in  which  the  solemn  rites 
are  performed,  connected  with  the  faith  which  is  professed  by  those  who 
worship  therein  ;  and  the  destruction  of  the  outward  church  seems  almost 
necessarily  to  imply  some  diminution  or  some  weakening  at  least  of  the 
inward  forces  of  that  church  which  dies  not.  At  least  there  are  numbers, 
even  of  those  who  are  faithful,  of  those  who  believe,  whose  faith  is  much 
sustained  by  the  outward  ministrations  which  God  has  provided.  It  is 
difficult  to  imagine  a  church  persevering  in  its  fervor  when  the  visits  of 
its  priests  are  fraught  with  danger — when  months  and  almost  years  may 
elapse  before  the  faithful  can  receive  the  consolations  of  religion,  or  the 
food  which  God  gives  to  His  Church  by  the  agency  of  its  ministers. 
When  that  constant  watchfulness  of  the  pastors  who  have  their  flocks 
constantly  under  their  eyes  is  withdrawn — when  the  shepherd  is  struck — 
the  sheep  become  scattered :  and  it  is  certain  that  the  loss  of  spiritual 
ministrations  to  the  wants  of  the  people — of  spiritual  assistance  to  the 
poor — of  the  means  of  maintaining  places  for  their  education,  or  for  their 
comfort  in  illness — weakens  to  a  great  extent  the  power  of  religion. 
And  if  these  are  in  the  hands  of  others  who  use  them  for  the  opposite 
purpose  of  perverting  and  alluring  away  from  the  truth,  then  there  is 
indeed  danger  that  many  in  the  Church  may  fall  away. 

But  in  another  respect,  your  country  stands  alone  in  the  dispensa- 
tions of  Providence,  in  dealing  with  the  Church  at  least  in  Europe.  Not- 
withstanding all  that  was  done  to  destroy  the  Church  of  God  in  this 
land,  He,  in  His  mercy,  maintained  inviolable  the  succession  of  its 
pastors,  and  gave  an  unbroken  chain  from  its  great  Apostle  to  this  hour, 
and  thus  made  a  firm  and  strong  bond,  to  which  were  attached  all  the 
other  graces  and  blessings  that  religion  can  give.  This  was,  indeed,  His 
greatest  crowning  act  of  love — one  that  showeth  He  would  not  be  angry 
forever,  and  which  proved  that  He  was  striking  with  the  rod  of  the 
father  and  not  with  the  axe  of  the  judge — that  if  He  seemed  to  withhold 
the  hand  of  mercy.  He  did  not  hold  forth  that  of  justice.  But  what 
became  of  religion — where  were  its  noble  churches  and  splendid  monastic 
institutions?  They  were  either  swept  from  the  land  or  reduced  to  ruin, 
or  transformed  into  strongholds  of  animosity,  and  made  the  places  fr6m 
which  have  since  come  forth  efforts  to  destroy,  if  possible,  the  faith. 
Why,  my  brethren,  if  there  remained — I  will  not  say  a  splendid  cathedral, 
but  a  church  like  the  one  in  which  we  are  now  assembled — preserved 
from  the  olden  time  for  Catholic  worship,  I  believe  that,  notwithstanding 
the  stability  of  its  structure,  the  very  stones  would  be  kissed  away  by 
the  lips  of  pilgrims.     The  worship  of  God  and  the  ministrations  of  its 


16  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

superior  pastors  in  their  vesture  of  holiness,  as  you  have  witnessed  to- 
day, was  a  sight  which,  by  your  fathers  in  the  last  three  centuries,  would 
not  have  been  dreamt  of  as  possible,  and  the  constant  dedications  of 
churches  like  this  in  ever>'  part  of  the  country  is  a  sign  of  the  faith  which 
they  might  have  believed  was  possibly  reserved  for  some  centuries  hence. 
To  what  a  condition  then  were  things  reduced !  It  would  appear  that 
the  best  symbol  of  the  Church,  as  it  was  for  a  long  time  in  this  country, 
is  exactly  one  of  those  ancient  churches  I  have  described,  from  which 
every  buttress  has  been  plucked  away,  the  roof  stripped  off,  the  altar 
overthrown,  the  niches  plundered,  and  the  walls  defaced,  and  well-nigh 
ruined ;  but  in  the  'meantime  all  this  had  not  been  able  to  wipe  away 
that  sacredness  of  consecration  which  they  had  received,  nor  to  draw 
away  the  affection  of  the  people;  for  it  yet  remained  a  consecrated 
ground  for  them.  Imagine  now  a  congregation  assembled  in  such  a  place, 
worshipping  God  according  to  the  religion  of  the  fathers,  and  then  let  us 
figure  to  ourselves  that  God  should  do  habitually  for  it  what  He  did  for 
the  B.  Peter  of  Alcantara,  when  he  took  shelter  in  a  dilapidated  house, 
and  God  sustained  with  His  hand  the  storm  of  snow  that  was  threatening 
to  overwhelm  him,  and  kept  it  suspended  over  his  head  like  a  transparent 
and  graceful  roof,  beyond  the  architect's  skill,  so  that  what  of  itself  was 
the  emblem  of  cold  and  poverty  became  at  once  a  warm  and  genial  shel- 
ter, and  yet  allowed  the  cheering  light  to  come  softened  through  it  upon 
those  below. 

Now,  similar  to  this  was  the  Providence  of  God  with  your  fathers.  It 
was  from  the  very  pitiless  bleakness  of  the  storm  which  long  afflicted 
their  Church  that  He  wrought  the  security  against  the  evil  powers  that 
sent  it,  and  He  "  qui  dat  nivem  stent  lanam,"  *  wove  from  its  very  missiles 
the  warm  shelter  of  their  piety ;  and  it  was  through  all  this  apparently 
oppressive  and  heartless  storm  that  the  mild  rays  of  faith  streamed 
through  and  brightened  the  hearts  of  all  that  were  there  assembled. 
And  then,  when  it  cleared  away,  the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  it  had 
risen  in  its  beauty,  and  it  is  mountmg  toward  its  meridian  now.  No 
doubt,  the  wonderful  Providence  of  God  made  use  of  the  very  spoliation 
and  poverty  of  the  Church  here  as  the  means  of  guarding  it  from  the 
seductions  of  the  world.  . 

Oh !  my  brethren,  it  is  this  that  forms  the  real  wonder  of  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Church  now  so  flourishing  in  this  land.  It  is,  that  notwith- 
standing the  destruction  of  what  would  appear  the  natural  and  visible 
support  and  sustainment  of  the  faith,  notwithstanding  the  sweeping  away 
in  a  short  time  of  that  which  was  considered,  from  the  usage  and  enjoy 


* 


Who  gives  snow  also  gives  wool. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  17 

ment  of  ages,  to  have  become  a  part  of  religion  ;  still  the  faith  maintained 
itself  unshaken  and  unaltered.  And  why  ?  Because,  not  merely  had  it 
taken  root  in  the  soil  to  the  depths  of  the  foundations  of  its  holy  places, 
but  deeper  far  in  the  hearts,  in  the  consciences,  in  the  souls  of  the  people, 
even  to  a  depth  that  all  the  influence  of  the  earth  could  not  reach. 

Now,  my  dear  brethren,  I  have  dwelt  long  upon  the  past  trials  of  our 
faith  in  this  country.  I  have  spoken  of  things  which  belong  rather  to  gen- 
erations now  gathered  to  their  fathers  than  to  you  ;  for  you  live  in  an  age 
of  promise,  in  an  age  of  hope,  and  yet  you,  almost  every  one  who  listens 
to  me,  have  witnessed  perhaps  the  most  severe  and  terrible  of  all  the 
trials  to  which  that  Church  has  ever  been  exposed  in  this  country.  I 
have  described  two  trials.  One  consisted  in  the  destruction  of  worldly 
prosperity  and  the  reduction  of  the  great  bulk  of  those  who  professed 
the  Catholic  faith  to  a  state  of  abject  misery ;  the  other  in  that  over- 
whelming persecution  which  threatened  to  destroy,  and  which,  as  far  as 
its  influence  went,  tried  to  annihilate  the  Church  itself,  by  depriving  her 
children  of  spiritual  succor.  The  one  reminds  me  of  those  messengers 
who  rushed  to  Job  to  tell  him  that  the  Sabeans  had  come  from  one  side 
and  the  Chaldeans  from  another,  and  destroyed  his  fields,  swept  away 
his  herds,  killed  the  herdsmen,  and  left  him  a  poor  and  wretched  man. 
The  second  brings  before  me  that  still  more  terrible  trial  which  went 
sorely  to  his  heart,  when  the  children  of  his  house  were  gathered  together 
in  the  home  of  their  elder  brother.  Oh,  what  was  that  home  to  all  of 
us,  the  sons  and  daughters  of. the  Church,  but  the  home  of  our  elder 
brother,  Christ  Jesus,  in  which,  like  the  children  of  Job,  your  forefathers 
were  gathered  to  partake  of  His  own  banquet,  when  in  a  moment  the  four 
winds  of  heaven  came  contending,  rival  powers — religions  of  opposite  and 
conflicting  creeds — that  blew  from  every  side  against  that  house,  and  it  was 
cast  down  and  made  a  heap  of  ruins,  underneath  which  a  certain  number 
perished.  Neither  of  these  trials  shook  for  a  moment  the  faith,  or  seemed, 
I  may  say,  to  disturb  that  deep-rooted  religion  which  existed  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people  ;  but  the  Evil  One  knew  that  he  could  inflict  another 
trial  still.  "  Skin  for  skin,"  he  said,  "  and  all  that  a  man  hath  he  will 
give  for  his  life.  But  stretch  forth  thy  hand,  and  touch  their  bone  and 
their  flesh,  strike  them  with  famine — strike  them  with  pestilence — and 
see  if  they  will  not  bless  God  and  die  '  (Job  ii.  4).  And  the  blight  came 
and  the  pestilence  came,  and  the  children  of  the  land  were  laid  low,  and 
fathers  and  mothers  wept  over  whole  families  whom  the  hand  of  death 
struck  down  before  their  eyes,  and  they  mingled  their  tears  with  those 
of  their  pastors,  who  were  themselves  despoiled  by  their  own  charity,  and 
by  the  prevailing  want  of  what  was  necessary  to  sustain  their  lives.  Yet, 
blessed  be  God,  under  this  awful,  this  unparalleled  affliction,  this  great 


18  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

and  truly  patient  people  spoke  not  a  foolish  thing  against  their  Maker, 
and  sinned  not  with  their  lips.  In  unmurmuring,  in  patient  suffering, 
they  recognized  in  this  affliction  the  hand  of  God.  They  saw  in  their 
deep  misery  but  the  chastising  of  children  by  their  Father.  They  bowed 
their  heads,  and  died  as  if  they  had  been  an  army  struck  by  the  Angel 
of  Death  passing  over  them.  They  were  buried  in  silence  and  in  sorrow ; 
and  those  who  survived  went  again  to  the  holy  work,  blessing  and 
praising  God,  without  a  murmur  or  complaint.  And  was  not  this  final 
trial  enough  almost  to  have  shaken  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  that  con- 
tinued confidence  in  God,  and  to  have  made  them  think  that  they  were 
hardly  treated  by  their  heavenly  Father?  No;  like  Job,  they  bore  all, 
meek  and  unrepining :  but  yet  the  hardest  trial  was  to  come.  For  then 
it  was  when  the  people  were  thus  stricken  almost  with  what  looked  to 
the  world  a  leprosy — when  nothing  but  sorrow  and  suffering  seemed  to 
be  the  inevitable  lot  of  this  country — then  it  was  that  the  comforters 
came— then  it  was  that  men  appointed  from  various  religions  in  the 
three  kingdoms  met  together,  and  came  with  food  in  their  wallets  to 
tempt,  and  with  money  in  their  purses  to  bribe,  with  light  in  their  hands 
like  the  cunning  fowler  only  to  mislead,  and  they  sat  on  the  ground 
around  their  victim ;  for  their  comfort  was  reproach,  and  their  conso- 
lation but  rebuke.  They  pretended  to  have  come  in  charity,  to  lighten 
the  hand  of  God  upon  the  people ;  but  in  truth  their  mission  was  to  lay 
it  as  heavily  as  possible  upon  them,  and  make  them  believe,  if  it  could 
be  done,  that  their  Almighty  Father  had  abandoned  them,  or  rather  that 
they  were — for  these  were  almost  the  very  words  used — given  up  in  their 
hunger  and  misery  into  their  hands  to  relieve  them,  but  only  on  condition 
of  a  sacrilegious  apostasy. 

Oh  !  sad  alternative,  to  betray  the  faith  which  for  ages  no  trial  had 
shaken,  or  to  see  their  children  starve  to  death  before  themselves !  This 
was  the  trial  of  trials— and  by  it  was  accomplished  in  the  history  of  this 
people  what  was  symbolized  in  the  holy  patriarch  of  old.  Surely  the 
patient  and  long-suffering  of  this  country  will  be  rewarded,  and  there  will 
come,  like  the  friends  of  Job,  those  who  will  give  their  "  sheep  or  their 
earrings"  (Job  xlii.  Ii)  to  restore  something  of  what  belonged  to  the 
poor  sufferers  of  days  gone  by. 

Such  is  the  faith  as  it  appears  to  me  in  this  country.  Forgive  me  if, 
from  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  the  mouth  has  spoken.  I  am  unable  to 
do  more  than  this,  to  express  those  feelings  which  I  may  say  are  natural 
to  me,  but  which  have  received  such  strength  and  enlargement  since  I 
came  here  amongst  you.  There  now  seems  to  be  a  bright  dawn  of  a 
glorious  future.  It  has  been  shrewdly  remarked  by  a  modern  writer,  that 
the  darkest  hour  of  the  night  is  that  which  precedes  the  dawn  ;  and  your 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  19 

darkest  hour  has  passed,  and  the  dawn  is  coming.  You  have  its  harbinger 
in  this  church  which  speaks  to  you  of  what  is  going  to  be  done,  and  what 
is  being  done,  everywhere  for  the  faith.  Here  this  poor  population  have 
seen  this  edifice  rise — not  from  the  efforts  of  a  few  rich  at  a  distance,  but 
from  the  persevering  exertions  of  themselves.  They  have  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  this  church,  after  God,  is  their  own :  nay,  indeed,  it  was 
their  own,  but  since  this  morning  God  has  taken  it  to  Himself,  and  may 
He  alone  be  Lord  and  Master  here  for  ages  to  come.  You  have  proof  of 
this  in  these  venerable  prelates  who  have  come  to  attend  the  solemnity — 
in  many  who  have  labored  long  for  the  love  of  God  and  the  salvation  of 
souls,  and  who  are  already  veterans  in  His  ministry,  but  gladly  see 
around  them  disciples  who,  by  the  example  they  will  receive,  will  carry 
the  hierarchy  forward  to  the  end  of  the  century  ;  and  around  them  is  a 
race  of  zealous  priests  which  cannot  be  extinguished,  of  men  who  are  not 
to  be  left  behind  in  what  is  called  "  the  progress  of  the  age,"  and  who 
will  show  you  (of  which  this  very  temple  is  proof)  that  there  is  nothing 
that  can  be  done  for  the  honor  of  God  intellectually,  artistically,  and 
scientifically,  which  they  are  not  ready  to  apply  for  the  vindication  of  the 
faith  and  the  advancement  of  religion.  This,  my  dear  brethren,  is  what, 
above  all  things,  I  now  exhort  you  to  ;  let  the  faith  be  kept  within  you, 
alive  and  fervent,  come  what  may.  If  our  calculations  prove  false — if 
God  is  pleased  to  allow  you  to  be  more  severely  tried  than  your  fathers, 
fear  not ;  stand  the  test  of  whatever  earth  can  do  in  order  to  put  to 
a  further  trial  that  faith  which  is  in  you.  Your  pastors  will  lead  you  ; 
these  holy  bishops  will  be  ever  in  the  van,  and  they  will  conduct  you  cer- 
tainly to  victory,  as  they  have  done  before.  When  this  morning  that 
procession  of  holy  prelates  entered  here — when  they  passed  within  this 
arch  of  the  sanctuary — what  else  was  it  but  a  triumphal  arch  which  spoke 
to  you  of  victory — of  victory  without  anger  and  without  pride — of  victory 
won  by  meekness  and  perseverance  of  faith — a  victory  which  only  shows 
they  have  learned  the  lessons  taught  by  the  Apostle,  which  they,  in  like 
manner,  will  hand  down  to  their  disciples  ?  "  Thou,"  says  the  Apostle  to 
Timothy,  "  hast  fully  known  my  doctrine,  my  faith,  long-suffering,  love, 
and  patience "  (2  Tim.  iii.  10).  Aye,  these  are  the  conquerors :  faith, 
long-suffering,  love,  and  patience.  It  was  once,  and  only  once,  in  history, 
that  the  gate  of  Jerusalem  became  an  arch  of  triumph.  Multitudes 
passed  through  it  to  mount  the  neighboring  hill  on  which  to  sacrifice  in 
honor  of  a  victory.  There  were  Roman  centurions  at  the  head  of  their 
troops  ;  there  were  horsemen  with  their  banners,  and  infantry  with  their 
eagles ;  there  were  magistrates  and  lictors,  and  civil  officers  ;  then  there 
were  priests  and  scribes,  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  and  a  vast  multitude  of 
men,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  strangers  from  every  country  under  the  sun. 


20 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


But  who  was  the  triumphant  conqueror  who  closed  that  procession  as  he 
passed  beneath  that  arch?  It  was  the  smitten  and  not  the  smiter — the 
reviled  and  not  the  reviler — who  in  meekness,  patience,  and  humility, 
ascended  the  capitol  of  the  world,  the  Calvary  on  which  he  offered  the 
most  precious  of  all  victims  to  achieve  as  well  as  commemorate  the  great 
victory  over  death  and  hell.  A  likeness  of  this  is  the  victory  to  which  we 
must  aspire — one  which  we  must  gain  by  our  endurance  in  and  for  the 
faith — by  our  constant  perseverance  in  it,  in  spite  of  what  the  powers  of 
earth  or  hell  may  do  against  it.  Let  us  prove  that  we  are  followers  of  that 
meek  but  mighty  God,  and  as  we  imitate  Him  in  His  lowness,  His  mild- 
ness, and  gentleness,  we  may  be  assured  we  shall  resemble  Him  in  His 
conquest  and  glory. 


SERMON    ON   THE   BLESSED   VIRGIN. 

DELIVERED   IN  THE  DUBLIN  CATHEDRAL. 
"And  He  was  subject  to  them." — St.  Luke  ii.  51. 

ENEATH  the  roof  of  a  church,  dedicated  to  the  glorious  and 
ever  Blessed  Mother  of  God,  where  from  every  side  shine  down 
upon  us  the  emblems  of  her  dignity,  on  a  day  on  which  is 
commemorated  that  maternity,*  which  communicated  to  her 
all  her  sublime  prerogatives  ;  in  the  presence  of  a  faithful  people,  who 
know  how  to  love  and  to  reverence  her,  it  would  be  contrary  to  every 
sentiment  that  inspires  me,  if  I  spoke  to  you  to-day  upon  any  other  sub- 
ject than  that  which  the  time,  the  place,  and  the  attendance  so  naturally 
suggest.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  say  anything  to  you  who  hear  me 
in  support  of  the  Catholic  doctrine  concerning  devotion  to  the  Blessed 
Mother  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ :  it  is  not  requisite  that  I  should  even 
explain  to  you,  as  if  you  were  an  ignorant  flock,  the  nature  of  this  devo- 
tion, its  character,  its  conditions ;  nay,  it  is  not  expedient  that  I  should 
try  to  recommend  that  devotion  or  endeavor  to  add  anything  to  the  fer- 
vor which  I  know  animates  the  people  of  this  island,  and  this  city  in 
particular — the  fervor  of  that  deep,  most  loving,  most  faithful  affection 
toward  her  whom  they  consider  their  patroness,  their  mother,  their  best 
and  truest  friend,  their  intercessor,  forever  beside  the  throne  of  her  Son. 
No,  my  brethren,  it  is  not  for  any  of  these  purposes  that  I  will  address 
you,  but  it  is  rather  to  give  utterance  to  those  sentiments  of  correspond- 
ing love  and  devotion  which  form  a  tie  between  us,  as  every  bond  of 
faith  and  piety  ever  must.  I  will  speak  to  you  upon  the  only  topic  which 
Tjaturally  comes  to  one's  thoughts  here  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  you  would 
think  I  was  wandering  from  what  belongs  to  this  day — that  I  was  with- 
holding from  you  the  food  proper  to  this  festival  of  Mary,  if  I  did  not 
endeavor  to  place  before  you  such  thoughts  as,  with  my  inadequate 
powers,  may  show  you  how  this  festival  of  the  maternity  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  recalls  to  us  the  illustrious  virtues  with  which  she  was  endowed, 
and  the  sublime  privileges  with  which  she  was  invested.  We  will  simply 
go  through  a  few  passages  of  her  life,  and  consider  her  in  her  various 


The  Feast  of  the  Maternity,  kept  in  Ireland  on  that  day. 

(21) 


22  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

relations  with  her  Son ;  and  see  how  we  can  trace  those  memorable  events 
that  distinguished  her  in  the  world,  that  have  raised  her  to  a  place  beside 
the  throne  of  that  Son  in  heaven,  to  her  simple  but  glorious  title  of 
"  Mother  of  Jesus." 

And  first,  my  brethren,  let  us  begin  by  contemplating  her  from  the 
moment  in  which  she  verified  the  words  of  the  angel,  and  gave  to  the 
world  the  Incarnate  Word.  It  is  certain  that  if  we  look  around  on  earth 
for  a  type  and  representation  of  the  best  and  purest  possible  affection  ;  if 
we  look  for  love  in  its  utmost  intensity,  in  its  most  unselfish  simplicity,  in 
its  sweetest  tenderness,  there  at  once  arises  to  our  minds  that  natural 
affection  which  binds  the  mother  to  her  child.  For  that  pledge  of  God's 
love  she  is  ready  to  sacrifice  herself,  forgetting  every  consideration  ;  not 
only  will  she  sacrifice  health  and  all  the  pleasures  of  life,  but  life  itself,  if 
necessary  ;  and  we  cannot  imagine  a  being  more  ready  to  give  her  exist- 
ence for  another  than  the  mother  who  sees  her  child  in  danger  and 
resolves  at  once  to  make  herself  an  oblation  for  its  safety.  So  remarkable 
is  this  affection,  that  God  has  beautifully  chosen  it  as  the  representation 
of  His  own  love  for  man.  He  does  not  content  Himself  with  saying  to 
us,  "  I  am  your  Father,"  notwithstanding  all  the  natural  ties  of  affection 
the  title  suggests,  but  He  compares  Himself  to  a  mother  in  His  true  love 
for  us.  He  could  not  give  us  any  image  more  complete  to  show  the 
tenderness  of  His  love  for  us,  than  by  comparing  Himself,  not  to  a  father, 
but  to  a  mother :  "  Can  a  mother  forget  the  child  of  her  womb  ?  And 
even  if  she  should  forget  it,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee."  * 

Still,  my  brethren,  perfect  as  is  this  love  considered  as  the  highest  and 
holiest  of  earthly  affections,  there  must  be,  and  there  is,  a  love  superior 
to  it — far  greater,  far  higher — a  love  divine.  The  mother  must  love  God 
more  than  the  infant,  for  which  she  is  ready  to  sacrifice  herself.  No 
virtuous,  no  pious,  no  devout  mother  but  knows  this,  that  rather  must 
she  lose  her  child  than  lose  her  God  ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  realize  the  mag- 
nitude of  this  love  that  transcends  the  love  of  the  mother  for  her  child. 
There  are  times  when,  perhaps,  in  her  heart  she  reproaches  herself  with 
not  loving  God  as  she  loves  her  babe.  Even  the  holiest  mother  will  con- 
fess that  there  is  more  emotion  and  sensitiveness,  and  more  practical 
devotedness  in  the  mother's  love  for  her  child  than  in  any  other ;  and  that 
willingly  would  she  love  God  in  the  same  way  that  she  loves  the  object 
of  her  maternal  affections ;  willingly  would  she  feel  ready  to  do  or  to 
suffer  as  much  for  God  as  she  does  for  the  little  object  of  her  tenderness. 
In  danger,  therefore,  is  even  this  maternal  love  of  being  carried  to  excess, 
so  Intense  is  its  nature.     When  the  moment  of  real  trial  comes ;  when 

*  Is.  xlix.  15. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  88 

sickness  strikes  the  child ;  when,  like  David,  she  prays  and  fasts  for  its 
life  ;  when  she  offers  herself  in  exchange  that  the  child  be  spared  ; 
when  the  hour  comes  that  she  sees  this  little  dear  one  begin  to  pant,  and 
its  breath  gradually  pass  away,  though  she  knows  that  the  transition  is 
only  from  a  life  of  darkness  and  prospective  misery  to  one  of  deathless 
life  and  infinite  happiness,  still  she  regrets  to  part  with  that  child  for  her 
God,  and  for  a  short  moment,  perhaps,  she  repines  and  sorrows.  If,  after 
a  few  instants  of  bursting  grief,  she  begins  to  reflect  well,  what  are  the 
humble  words  that  come  first  to  her  lips  ?  "  Oh  !  I  have  loved  that  child 
too  deeply ;  I  made  it  too  much  the  idol  of  my  affections,  and  God  has 
taken  it  to  Himself."  We  see,  then,  my  brethren,  that  this  love  of  the 
mother,  however  beautiful,  however  natural,  however  commended,  and 
again  and  again  inculcated  by  the  law  of  God,  may  become  a  dangerous 
affection,  inasmuch  as  it  may  know  no  bounds,  and  possibly  absorb  all 
that  divine  love  due  to  the  Creator  and  Giver  of  all  things.  This  danger 
is  illustrative  of  the  force  and  power  of  the  mother's  affection  for  the 
child. 

To  only  one  being  on  earth — to  only  one  of  God's  creatures  has  it 
ever  been,  or  will  ever  be,  granted  that  this  love  could  not  be  misplaced 
— could  not  become  excessive.  For,  by  virtue  pf  the  maternity  of  Mary, 
she  was  constituted  the  Mother  of  God ;  and  there  was  no  possible  dan- 
ger of  her  ever  carrying  the  maternal  affections,  I  will  not  say  into 
excess,  but  even  to  the  nearest  approach  of  anything  that  was  not  pure 
and  perfect,  holy  and  most  acceptable.  The  caresses  she  lavished  upon 
her  child  she  lavished  upon  God.  Exercising  the  right  of  the  mother, 
she  embraced  her  child,  and  it  was  God  she  embraced.  Every  time  she 
administered  to  Him  the  nourishment  which  His  infancy  was  pleased  to 
require,  she  was  giving  to  the  incarnate  God  a  part  of  herself,  bestowing 
upon  God  a  gift  which  no  other  being  was  entitled  or  permitted  to  con- 
fer. This  union  of  the  maternal  love  with  the  divine  love  was  indissolu- 
ble. The  two  branches  of  charity  growing  in  her  were  so  completely 
intertwined,  that  no  power  on  earth  or  in  heaven  could  separate  the  one 
from  the  other,  or  even  for  an  instant  disunite  them,  giving  her,  conse- 
quently, this  singular  prerogative,  that,  taking  the  highest,  the  most  pure 
and  perfect  standard  of  human  love,  she  was  privileged  to  exercise  it 
toward  her  God,  so  that  it  was  impossible  by  any  effort  of  her  virginal 
heart  to  love  too  much,  for  she  was  loving  God  with  all  the  power  of  a 
mother's  affection  for  her  child,  and  was,  at  the  same  time,  rendering  the 
love  which  others  could  only  direct  to  the  creature,  to  her  Creator. 

Surely,  then,  my  brethren,  we  have  here,  referable  to  the  maternity  of 
our  dear  and  blessed  Lady,  all  that  constitutes  at  once,  in  this  earthly 
love  of  the  mother  for  her  child  and  divine  love  of  the  creature  for  her 


24  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

God,  saintliness  in  its  highest  possible  perfection.  What  is  the  standard 
of  hoHness?  The  love  of  God,  the  observance  of  the  first  commandment 
— love  God  above  all  things ;  for  those  who  thus  love  God  fulfil  the  law. 
If,  therefore,  the  love  of  God  constitutes  the  very  form  and  substance  of 
holiness — if  to  Mary  was  given  the  privilege  of  loving  with  a  fervor  of 
love  that  could  belong  to  no  other  creature — if  she  could  love  her  God 
with  all  that  intensity  of  affection  the  highest  that  earth  can  furnish,  as 
the  representation  of  the  most  complete  and  perfect  love,  that  of  the 
mother  for  her  child,  which  was  her  relation  to  God — she  had  conse- 
quently communicated  to  her  a  character  of  love  incommunicable  even  to 
blessed  spirits  ;  and  it  was  this  love  of  her  God  which  raised  Mary  to  the 
height  of  hoHness,  and  made  her  become  the  most  precious  and  the  most 
beautiful  of  His  saints. 

Let  us  now  dwell  for  a  few  moments  upon  the  second  stage  of  the 
relations  between  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  her  Son,  and  see  what  charac- 
ter it  bestows  at  once  upon  her,  different  from  that  which  belongs  to  any 
other  person.  The  gospel  of  this  day — the  words  which  I  have  chosen 
from  it  for  my  text — give  us  at  once  a  clue  to  this.  Our  Lord  has  grown 
into  that  period  of  life  when  a  youth  has  a  will  of  his  own  which  he  may 
follow,  and  when  he  knows  f-ull  well  his  prerogatives.  But  He  lived  in 
Nazareth,  subject  to  His  parents — "  He  was  subject  to  them."  You 
understand,  of  course,  what  that  must  mean.  It  follows  that  from  that 
time  He  obeyed  any  order  given  Him,  in  that  relation  of  parent  and 
child.  It  does  not  mean  that  in  greater  or  more  important  things  He 
conformed  to  the  will  of  His  mother  and  of  Joseph,  His  reputed  father. 
The  word  "  subject "  signifies,  as  every  one  well  knows,  that  submission 
which  is  due  from  the  child  to  the  parent,  from  the  subject  to  his  prince ; 
which  characterizes  the  servant  in  his  conduct  to  him  who  rules  over  him. 
It  means  the  habit  of  constant  obedience,  the  observance  of  every  behest, 
the  readiness  in  every  time  and  every  place  at  once  to  do  what  is  bidden  ; 
it  means  the  disposition  of  mind,  and  of  will,  and  of  heart  to  sacrifice  a 
personal  will  to  the  will  of  another,  to  substitute  another's  will  for  one's 
own.  Such  is  what  we  understand  by  these  words ;  and  now  let  us  see 
what  is  the  depth  of  their  meaning.  Our  Lord  is  living  familiarly  at  home, 
as  other  children  might  live  with  their  parents ;  He  works  at  a  menial 
trade ;  He  is  in  that  poor  household  the  attendant  upon  His  mother. 
He  is  not  called  Rabbi,  or  Master,  or  Lord,  as  afterward  he  was.  He 
is  still  known  by  the  name  of  His  infancy — by  the  dear  name  which  the 
angel  communicated  to  Mary — by  that  sweet  name  of  Jesus,  which  was 
always  upon  the  lips  of  His  mother  and  of  Joseph,  He  is  called,  He  is 
sent.  He  is  commanded,  or,  command  being  unnecessary,  He  is  desired  to 
do  whatever  is  needful  for  that  little  household.     As  His  repulfed  father 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  25 

advances  in  years,  and  is  approaching  to  his  end,  the  obligations  assumed 
by  the  Blessed  Youth,  His  industry,  His  submission,  His  labors,  only 
increase, 

I  have  asked  already  what  does  this  imply  ?  Our  blessed  Lord  is  God 
as  well  as  man.  As  God,  His  holy  will  is  none  other  than  that  of  His 
eternal  Father,  with  whom  His  union  is  so  complete  that  it  is  impossible 
for  Him,  in  any  way,  to  have  any  will  in  contradiction  to  that  of  the 
Father.  He  cannot,  however  slightly  or  imperceptibly,  depart  from  the 
will  of  His  Father,  for  it  is  His  own.  No  authority,  no  jurisdiction,  no 
command  could  possibly  induce  Him  to  depart  in  the  smallest  degree 
from  that  eternal  will  in  which  He  is  Himself  partaker,  and  which  is  His  own 
divine  will,  and  in  which  there  can  never  be  otherwise  than  full  and  per- 
fect identity,  not  conformity,  with  the  will  of  God.  Now,  my  dear 
brethren,  when  our  Lord  obeys  man,  when  He  puts  His  will  at  the  dis- 
posal of  a  creature,  it  cannot  be,  except  on  the  condition  of  complete 
certainty  that  there  will  be  in  every  command  and  in  every  desire  that 
may  be  expressed  to  Him,  a  perfect  uniformity  with  the  will  of  God.  It 
must  be  the  same  to  Him  to  obey  the  will  of  Mary  as  to  obey  His  Divine 
Father  ;  for,  if  the  two  are  at  variance.  He  must  disobey  the  creature. 
Not  only  must  this  fact  of  conformity  between  the  commands  of  the  one 
and  the  will  of  the  other  be  such,  but  it  must  have  been  to  the  knowledge 
of  God  a  certainty  that  it  would  be  always  such.  The  fact  of  declaring 
that  Jesus  was  subject  for  eighteen  years  to  that  blessed  Mother  at  once 
implies  that  He  knew,  during  the  eighteen  years,  as  during  the  years  that 
preceded,  that  there  would  be  no  discrepancy  between  the  will  of  her  and 
the  will  of  His  Father,  with  whom  every  act,  every  thought,  every  breath 
of  His  must  be  in  necessary  unison.  Now,  my  brethren,  we  may  desire  to 
love  God  to  the  extent  of  our  power.  Man  may  seek  to  the  utmost  to  do 
what  pleases  the  Almighty,  and  yet  we  know  it  is  impossible  for  him,  in 
this  world  of  imperfections  and  temptations,  always  to  be  sure  that  his 
will  and  his  acts  are  in  accordance  with  the  will  of  God.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  only  after  he  has  discovered  the  will  of  God  that  he  can  truly 
say  he  has  endeavored  to  follow  it.  It  is  a  perpetual  study,  a  constant 
care  and  anxiety  with  him  that  whatever  he  does  be  conformable  to  God's 
will.  We  must  endeavor,  as  it  were,  to  move  in  the  same  line  or  the 
same  orbit,  following  exactly,  step  by  step.  Him  from  whom  alone  we  can 
learn  and  derive  that  power  of  conformity  to  His  will  in  all  things.  The 
privilege  and  the  blessing  of  knowing  that  they  thus  conform  to  Him  is 
reserved  for  those  blessed  spirits,  the  souls  of  the  just  made  perfect,  who 
live  in  God  and  in  the  eternal  enjoyment  of  His  presence,  who  cannot  for 
a  moment  change  in  their  devotion  to  Him,  or  in  their  state  of  perfect 
uniformity  with  His  will.     This  will  be  the  happy  lot  of  man  redeemed 


26  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT, 

and  saved,  when  the  time  of  trial  is  gone  by,  and  when  he  can  no  longer 
follow  his  own  earthly  desires.  But  to  Mary,  upon  earth,  was  granted 
this  high  prerogative  of  being  in  perfect  conformity  in  her  own  actions  to 
the  will  of  God.  So  complete  was  this  identity  of  sentiment,  that  the  Son 
of  God  Himself  was  able  to  obey  her  with  the  full  certainty  that  every 
command  of  hers,  that  every  request  of  hers  would  be  in  perfect  and 
entire  concord  with  the  will  of  His  heavenly  Father.  And  so  every  look 
of  Mary  was  but  the  reflection  of  the  eye  of  God  ;  every  word  that 
passed  from  her  mouth  was  the  echo  of  the  voice  of  God  coming  from  His 
throne  ;  every  command  or  wish  she  expressed,  every  impulse  and  every 
suggestion  harmonized  with  His.  Beloved  brethren,  what  are  the  con- 
ditions necessary  for  love  ?  The  desire  of  being  in  perfect  unity  and 
harmony  with  the  object  of  affection  ;  and  Mary  can  truly  be  said  to  have 
been  in  entire  union  of  heart  and  soul  with  God,  and  not  alone  in  love,  but 
in  action  and  in  word. 

Is  there  yet  a  higher  step  which  it  is  possible  for  a  human  creature  to 
aspire  to,  for  bringing  himself  or  herself  nearer  still  to  God  ?  There  re- 
mains but  one,  and  it  is  that  higher  love  and  uniformity  with  God's  will 
which  naturally  inspires  the  creature  with  a  desire,  if  possible,  to  co-operate 
with  the  Creator ;  to  be  not  merely  a  material  instrument,  but  truly  a 
sharer  in  His  own  work ;  to  be  chosen  to  act  in  His  name,  and  to  exercise 
power  which,  emanating  from  Him,  is  still  so  intrusted  that  it  may  be 
used  with  the  freedom  that  gives  merit  to  its  application.  Do  you  not 
think  that  the  angels  in  heaven  who  see  the  face  of  the  Father,  passing  a 
blissful  eternity  in  the  contemplation  of  Him,  esteem  it  a  distinction  to 
be  still  further  deputed  to  perform  the  will  of  God  ?  Do  you  not  believe 
that  the  guardian  angel  who  is  sent  in  charge  of  the  least  castaway 
amongst  the  children  of  men — the  poor  foundling  that  is  left  to  perish — 
considers  himself  invested  with  a  mission  full  of  dignity,  full  of  glory,  be- 
cause he  is  thereby  doing  the  will  of  God,  carrying  out  His  purpose,  the 
salvation  of  mankind  ;  or  that  when  an  illustrious  angel  like  Gabriel, 
Raphael,  or  Michael,  receives  a  commission  to  bear  some  glad  tidings  to 
the  world,  or  perform  some  great  work  of  divine  dispensation,  he  unfurls 
his  wings  with  delight,  leaves  the  immediate  presence  of  God,  which  we 
imagine  him  locally  to  contemplate,  but  which  never  departs  from  Him, 
and  proceeds  gladly,  whether  it  be  to  Daniel  to  expound  prophecy,  or  to 
Mary  to  bring  the  message  of  eternal  love,  considering  it  the  highest 
honor  to  be  thus  enabled  to  assist  in  carrying  out  the  glorious,  the  mag- 
nificent designs  of  God  ?  And  what  was  the  position  of  those  great  men 
of  the  old  law,  commencing  with  Moses  and  proceeding  down  to  the 
Machabees,  who  were  ordained  to  become  the  chiefs  of  God's  people ;  to 
whose  guidance  and  care  was  committed  the  carrying  out  of  His  great 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN,  27 

mercies  ;  who  bore  in  their  hands  the  rod  of  His  omnipotence ;  who  car- 
ried in  their  breasts  the  secret  of  His  wisdom  ?  Were  they  not  honored 
beyond  all  other  men  ?  Did  they  not  consider  it  a  glory  to  be  thus  in- 
trusted with  any  great  mission  of  providential  action  ?  There  was  too, 
my  brethren,  in  all  this  some  reward  of  honorable  distinction  for  those  so 
engaged.  The  angels  thus  employed  are  distinguished  amongst  the 
heavenly  hosts,  and  have  specific  names,  recorded  that  we  may  single 
them  out  for  devotion  ;  and  those  who  were  so  honored  amongst  the  men 
of  the  old  law  were  thereby  raised  above  the  rank  of  ordinary  prophets, 
and  became  the  heroes,  the  great  men  of  the  earlier  dispensation. 

But  to  take  part  in  the  work  of  God  silently,  unknown,  without  re- 
ward from  mankind,  at  least  during  life,  without  those  incentives  which 
make  men  equal  to  a  great  and  high  mission  in  the  world,  that  was  a  merit 
reserved  for  her,  without  whose  co-operation  it  is  hard  to  say  in  what 
state  mankind  would  have  been.  God  was  pleased  that  it  should  depend 
on  her  that  the  greatest  of  mysteries  should  be  accomplished.  He  gives 
her  time  to  deliberate ;  He  accords  her  permission  to  suggest  difficulties, 
to  make  her  own  terms,  that  she  shall  not  have  to  surrender  the  precious 
gift  which  she  values  higher  than  the  highest  imaginable  of  honors,  so 
that  it  requires  the  assurance  that  to  God's  omnipotence  even  the  union 
of  the  two  prerogatives  is  possible,  and  that  attribute  is  to  be  exerted  for 
her.  And  so  it  was  not  until  she  had  said,  "  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the 
Lord,  be  it  done  unto  me  according  to  the  Word,"  that  the  great  mystery 
was  accomplished. 

And  now  pause  for  a  moment.  Here  is  the  greatest  of  God's  works, 
not  since  the  creation  of  the  world,  but  during  the  countless  ages  of  His 
own  existence,  the  Word  incarnate,  the  Word  made  flesh.  Yet  how 
singular  is  the  part  of  Mary  in  this  mystery.  She  utters  the  words  ;  they 
scarcely  fall  from  her  lips,  and  she  alone  remains  intrusted,  not  only  with  the 
precious  gift  itself,  but  with  the  knowledge  of  it.  No  one  else  can  have 
known  it.  Joseph  himself  was  not  aware  of  it,  till  an  angel  revealed  it  to 
him.  Allow  me  now  for  an  instant  to  deviate  from  the  line  which  I  was 
pursuing.  I  have  addressed  you  as  good  and  faithful  Catholics,  believing 
what  the  Church  teaches  you,  and  also  as  servants  of  Mary,  feeling  true 
devotion  toward  her ;  but  I  beg  here  to  make  a  remark  which  may,  per- 
haps, be  useful  in  conversing  with  others.  Look  at  those  men  who, 
unhappily  for  themselves,  know  not,  and  understand  not,  the  prerogatives 
of  Mary ;  look,  I  will  not  say,  at  those  more  wretched  men  who  have  the 
hardihood,  the  unfeelingness,  the  brutality,  to  decry  her,  but  to  those 
who,  in  more  respectful  terms,  profess  simply  to  overlook  her.  Just  see 
the  position  in  which  such  persons  are  placed,  as  to  their  belief.  They 
say,  "  We  cannot  worship,"  as  they  call  it,  the  Virgin  Mary ;  we  cannot 


28  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

honor  her,  because  in  doing  so  we  should  be  derogating  from  the  honor 
due  to  her  Son,  to  the  Word  incarnate,  to  Jesus  Christ.  I  would  say  to 
these  men :  How  do  you  know  that  He  was  incarnate  ?  How  do  you 
know  that  the  Son  of  God  became  man?  You  say  in  your  creed  that  He 
was  conceived  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Who  gave  you  evidence  of  that  con- 
ception ?  Gabriel  did  not  manifest  it.  He  vanished  as  soon  as  he  had 
delivered  his  message.  You  do  not  believe,  no  Protestant  believes,  that 
the  Bible  is  a  simple  revelation  ;  that  is,  a  series  of  truths  not  known,  and 
which  could  not  be  known  by  human  means.  The  Evangelists  themselves 
— the  one  from  whom  I  have  quoted — tells  us  that  "  Mary  laid  up  all 
these  words  in  her  heart,"  and  that  he  sought  information  from  those  who 
knew  everything  from  the  beginning.  Mary  was  the  only,  the  sole  wit- 
ness in  the  world  to  the  mystery  of  the  incarnation.  There  was  only  her 
word  that  she  conceived  thus  miraculously  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  She  told 
it  to  the  Apostles,  and  they  believed  it,  and  recorded  it  with  the  sanction 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  real  source  of  the  historical  and  inspired  testi- 
mony of  the  accomplishment  of  the  great  mystery  of  the  incarnation  is 
Mary ;  and  those  who  reject  her  could  not  have  come  to  believe,  except 
through  her  testimony,  that  God  took  upon  Him  our  nature.  It  is 
through  her  that  they  know  it ;  yet  they  pretend  that  honor  to  her  is  at 
His  expense.  But  as  it  was  with  her  co-operation  that  this  great  mys- 
tery was  wrought,  so  was  it  right  that  through  her  it  should  be  commu- 
nicated. 

The  time  at  length  came  for  the  awful  completion  of  that  eternal 
mystery  of  man's  redemption  which  was  to  astonish  men  and  angels. 
There  was  one  heart  in  which  all  that  was  to  come  was  faithfully  treas- 
ured— hers  who  had  listened  to  the  wonderful  and  mysterious  words  of 
the  venerable  old  man  that  told  her,  in  the  days  of  her  motherly  happi- 
ness, that  the  sword  of  affliction  would  pierce  her  heart.  Oh,  she  had 
often,  no  doubt,  conversed  on  the  painful  topic  with  her  Divine  Son. 
She  knew  too  well  what  was  the  course  He  had  to  run.  She  knew 
wherefore  He  had  come  into  the  world,  and  how  every  breath  of  His  was 
an  act  of  obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  She  knew  well  that  He  had  bitter 
food,  indeed,  to  take,  which  was  not  prepared  for  Him  by  her  hands.  She 
had  lived,  by  anticipation,  in  the  suffering  which  naturally  resulted  from 
this  knowledge  communicated  to  her,  and  she  well  knew  the  time  was 
come  when,  at  the  last  passover  with  His  disciples,  He  was  about  to  cast 
aside  this  world,  and  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  His  Father.  Then  did 
she  know  that  another  cup  besides  that  of  His  paschal  feast  was  to  be 
placed  in  His  hands,  to  be  drained  by  Him  to  the  dregs.  She  knew  that 
well — so  well  that  it  is  hardly  necessary  even  to  have  recourse  to  the 
pious  tradition  that  she  saw  in  a  vision  what  passed  in  the  garden  of 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  29 

Gethsemani.  But  certain  it  is  that  the  morning  dawn  saw  her  hasten  to 
her  Son,  in  order  to  carry  out  that  conformity  which  she  had  preserved 
with  the  will  of  God  during  the  whole  of  her  life  ;  that  conformity  which 
had  been  so  great,  that  her  Son,  in  obedience  to  her  will,  anticipated  the 
time  for  the  performance  of  His  first  miracle.  It  was  right  that  this  con- 
formity should  at  length  be  transmuted  into  a  perfect  unity,  incapable  of 
the  slightest  separation  ;  and  that  could  only  be  done  as  it  was  accom- 
plished on  Calvary  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 

My  dear  brethren,  why  was  Mary  there  ?  That  simple  question  in  its 
answer  solves  a  great  problem.  Why  was  Mary  there  ?  It  was  no  part 
of  the  sentence  on  Jesus,  as  if  to  increase  or  to  enhance  the  bitterness  of 
His  death,  that  His  mother  should  stand  by,  and  it  never  was  commanded 
in  any  nation,  however  barbarous,  that  the  mother  should  be  at  the  scaf- 
fold when  her  Son  expiated  what  was,  rightly  or  wrongly,  imputed  to  Him 
as  His  guilt.  It  was  not  compulsory  on  Mary  to  be  at  Calvary ;  she  was  not 
driven  there,  nor  was  it  usual  in  her  to  seek  publicity.  She  had  followed 
Him,  indeed,  through  all  His  mission  in  Judea;  but  she  used  to  stand 
*  without,  and  the  people  who  surrounded  Him  would  say,  "  Your  mother 
and  brethren  are  outside."  She  did  not  claim  the  privileges  of  her  rank 
to  be  close  to  Him  when  He  was  disputing  with  the  Pharisees  or  instruct- 
ing multitudes.  When  He  went  into  a  house  to  perform  His  miracles,  or 
to  a  mountain  to  be  transfigured,  He  took  Peter,  James,  and  John.  We 
read  not  that  Mary  presumed  to  follow  Him,  and  exult  in  the  magnificent 
exercise  of  His  divine  power  or  the  manifestation  of  His  heavenly  glory. 
No,  she  followed  at  a  distance ;  she  kept  near  Jesus,  watching  over  Him. 
But  she  knew  that  it  was  not  her  hour ;  that  it  was  not  yet  the  time  when 
her  parental  duty  was  to  be  associated  with  her  parental  rights.  She  had 
lived  the  whole  of  her  life  in  retirement,  first  in  the  Temple,  then  in  the 
cottage  at  Nazareth.  And  she  who  naturally  shrunk  from  the  assemblies 
of  men  came  forth  at  the  time  most  trying  to  her  feelings,  to  be  present 
at  the  execution,  the  brutal  execution  of  her  Son,  in  that  form  of  suffering 
which  was  most  revolting  and  most  cruelly  rending  of  her  tender  heart. 
Mary  came  forth  to  witness  the  death — of  whom  ?  Of  her  only  beloved 
Son,  of  her  only  child,  whom  she  remembered  once  an  infant  in  her  arms. 
She  will  draw  nigh  to  see  these  hands  cruelly  pierced,  which  she  had  so 
often  pr'essed  to  her  lips ;  she  will  stand  by  and  see  that  noble,  that 
divine  countenance — the  first  look  from  whose  eyes  beamed  upon  her,  the 
first  smile  of  whose  lips  shone  upon  her  heart — bedewed  with  blood, 
streaming  from  the  thorny  crown  ;  to  see  Him  still  bearing  the  marks  of 
having  been  beaten,  and  buffeted,  and  defiled  by  spittle  and  mocked  by 
His  persecutors.  She  came  to  seek  Him  at  the  hour  of  this  suffering. 
And  why  ?     Because  the  heart  of  the  mother  must  be  near  that  of  the 


30  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

son,  in  order  that  they  may  be  both  struck  together,  and  so  endure  most 
perfect  union  of  suffering,  that  she  may  be  said  truly  to  co-operate,  in 
sympathy,  with  the  divine  work  of  salvation. 

Suppose,  my  brethren,  you  have  two  masses  of  unalloyed  gold.  Let 
the  one  be  heavier  than  the  other,  of  incomparably  greater  value,  more 
beautiful  in  its  color,  more  pure  in  its  substance,  and  in  every  way  more 
precious  from  a  thousand  associations.  Let  the  other  be  also  indeed  of 
great  price,  though  very  inferior  to  it.  What  will  you  do  that  they  may 
become  only  one?  Cast  them  into  the  same  crucible,  heat  them  in  the 
same  furnace,  and  they  will  melt  into  one,  so  that  you  may  not  separate 
them  again.  What  a  furnace  of  affliction,  what  a  crucible  of  torture  and 
of  anguish  was  that  in  which  the  two  hearts  of  Jesus  and  Mary  were  fused 
in  that  hour  on  Calvary ;  and  could  it  have  been  possible  that  there 
should  arise  a  difference  of  thought,  of  feeling,  of  desire  between  the  two  ? 
Could  it  have  been  possible  to  unravel  them,  having  lost  every  other 
thought,  every  other  idea,  in  the  predominant  one  of  accomplishing  the 
great  sacrifice  which  God  had  appointed  for  the  salvation  of  man  ? 

As  musical  chords,  when  in  perfect  harmony,  will  so  sympathize,  that 
if  the  one  is  struck  its  vibrations  will  be  communicated  to  the  other,  and 
agitate  it  in  perfect  accord,  so  did  the  fibres  of  those  two  most  blessed 
hearts,  agreeing  so  justly  in  tone,  utter  the  same  sweet  strain  of  patient 
love ;  and  every  pang  and  throb  of  one  was  faithfully  repeated  in  the 
other. 

Then  this  conformity  went  further  still.  In  that  most  solemn  hour 
Jesus  formally  recognized  Mary  as  His  mother,  as  He  proclaimed  God  to 
be  His  Father.  What  could  she  aspire  to  but  imitation,  however  imper- 
fect, of  what  the  Heavenly  Father  was  accomplishing  in  His  well-beloved 
Son?  Then,  as  she  knew  that  the  Eternal  Father  was  surrendering  Him 
to  sacrifice  and  to  death  out  of  love  for  man,  could  she  do  less  than  sur- 
render Him  too?  And  she  is  come  hither  for  this  very  purpose.  There- 
fore does  she  stand  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  that  for  lost  man  she  may 
make  a  public  and  willing  sacrifice  of  all  that  is  dear  to  her  on  earth. 
Only  she,  His  mother,  can  thus  put  herself  into  strict  uniformity  with 
His  Almighty  Father.  As  she  accepted  Him  at  His  incarnation,  she 
yielded  Him  at  His  death,  saying:  "The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord 
taketh  away ;  blessed  and  fully  accomplished  ever  be  the  will  of  God": 
yes,  although  it  may  wring  her  maternal  bosom,  and  drive  the  sword  of 
afHiction  deep  into  her  loving  heart,  even  to  its  inmost  core.  Thus  it  is 
she  became  a  co-operator,  as  far  as  possible,  with  God  in  His  great  work ; 
she  became  the  priestess  on  the  part  of  mankind,  to  whom  was  allowed 
to  accomplish  the  holocaust  which  was  considered  too  difficult  and  pain- 
ful for  Father  Abraham,  the  sacrifice  of  a  beloved  child.    While  we  know 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  31 

that  Jesus  Christ  is  alone  the  priest  and  the  victim  to  His  Father,  we  do 
not  derogate  from  the  infinite  majesty,  efficacy,  and  sublimity  of  the 
oblation  of  the  Lamb  upon  our  altars,  by  believing  that  He  permits 
us,  His  unworthy  priests,  to  be,  in  a  certain  degree.  His  coadjutors  in  the 
work,  not  in  any  way  increasing  its  efficacy  by  aught  that  we  can  do,  but 
still  standing  as  it  were  at  -His  side.  His  ministers,  soliciting  and  produc- 
ing the  divine  action,  without  which  nothing  that  we  can  do  would  take 
effect.  In  some  such  manner  it  may  be  said  that  Mary,  loving  God  as  no 
other  creature  ever  loved  Him,  loving  in  uniformity  with  His  divine  will, 
in  a  way  never  granted  to  any  other  being  on  earth,  at  length  reached 
that  which  must  be  the  very  consummation  of  the  desire  of  love, 
that  of  acting,  working,  and  suffering  with  God  ;  taking  part,  so  far  as 
human  infirmity  can  do,  in  the  accomplishment  of  His  sublime  and  glori- 
ous work  of  redemption. 

My  brethren,  I  am  sure  that  many  of  your  hearts  have  been  suggest- 
ing that  this  maternity  of  Mary  extends  beyond  one  dear  Son ;  and  you 
ask.  Are  not  we  her  children?  Do  not  we  commemorate  this  day  her 
kind,  affectionate,  and  efficacious  relationship  with  us  of  a  mother  to  her 
children  ?  I  need  not  tell  you  that,  when  the  two  sacred  hearts  of  Jesus 
and  Mary  were  so  melted  together  in  affliction  as  that  they  could  not  be 
separated,  that  was  the  hour  in  which  the  fuHy-recognized  brotherhood 
between  Jesus  and  us  was  established.  The  relationship  which  com- 
menced with  the  incarnation,  caused  us  to  become  His  brothers  truly, 
and  Mary  consequently  to  become  our  mother;  but  His  parched  and 
quivering  lips,  just  before  He  uttered  His  last  cry  upon  the  cross,  pro- 
claimed this  relationship,  and  bade  her  receive  from  John  his  love  as  a 
child,  and  John  to  receive  hers  as  of  a  mother.  We  accept  these  words 
in  their  fullest  sense.  We  take  our  place  willingly  with  the  beloved  dis- 
ciple without  fear  of  being  rejected,  and  gladly  send  up  our  prayers  to 
Mary  for  intercession,  as  our  mother  sitting  on  her  throne  in  heaven. 
We  cannot  place  her  in  the  ranks  of  other  saints  who  are  partaking  of 
bliss  with  Him.  There  are  amongst  them,  no  doubt,  those  to  whom  we 
owe  special  devotion,  those  who  are  the  patrons  of  our  country,  those 
who  planted  and  defended  its  faith,  who  were  celebrated  for  having 
honored  it,  and,  still  more,  blessed  it.  There  are  also  there  our  guardian 
angels  with  the  mighty  host  of  blessed  spirits  that  we  know  to  be  minis- 
tering before  the  throne  of  God.  Yet,  not  with  the  honor  that  we  pay, 
or  the  prayers  which  we  address  to  any  of  this  glorious  array  of  saints 
and  angels,  can  we  classify  the  deeper  devotion,  the  more  fervent  sup- 
plications, still  less  the  filial  duty  which  we  owe  the  mother  of  God. 
We  speak  to  them  as  saints,  as  faithful  servants  of  the  Lord,  as  our 
friends  who  have  preceded  us  to  glory  and  can  assist  us  there ;  but  to 


32 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


none  can  we  use  the  words  which  we  can  apply  to  Mary ;  to  none  can  we 
speak  as  a  child  to  its  mother;  with  none  other  can  we  establish  our 
claim  to  the  patronage,  care,  and  love,  which,  as  children  of  a  common 
mother,  every  day  and  every  night  we  are  at  liberty  to  demand  from 
Mary.  Even  as  Solomon,  when  Uis  mother  was  announced,  rose  and 
bowed  to  her,  and  placed  her  on  his  right  hand  on  a  throne  before  all 
others,  so  is  Mary  placed  between  the  Heavenly  Host  and  her  Son; 
so  that  when  we  think  of  her,  we  may  lift  our  minds  and  thoughts  to  her 
as  one  enjoying  heaven  like  a  solitary,  brilliant  luminary,  shining  between 
Him  and  the  highest  rank  of  those  blessed  hosts.  And  why?  Because 
she  is  the  mother  of  God.  Her  maternity  has  bestowed  upon  her  that 
which,  after  all,  is  the  completion  of  her  love.  Her  love  is  perfect,  her 
conformity  is  rendered  eternal,  and  her  co-operation  with  Jesus  continual 
in  that  constant  flow  of  her  kindness  to  us,  in  that  perpetual  representing 
of  our  wants  to  her  Divine  Son,  in  her  faithful  intercession  for  us  all, 
consistently  with  her  singular  prerogative  as  the  mother  of  God.  Then, 
beloved  brethren,  cease  not  in  your  affection  to  her.  Mind  not  more 
than  you  do  the  winds  that  fly  past  you,  words  which  you  may  hear  in 
disparagement  of  this  most  beautiful  devotion,  as  if  the  worship  of  our 
divine  Lord  suffered  from  devotion  to  her.  Pray  frequently  in  your 
necessities  to  her,  in  your  wants,  in  your  trials,  personal  or  domestic,  and 
feel  sure  that  she  will  attend  to  your  petitions.  Be  assured  that  the  link 
which  bound  Him  to  her  on  earth,  and  continues  to  unite  Him  to  her  in 
heaven,  also  binds  us  to  her,  so  that  in  Jesus  and  Mary  we  have  our  con- 
fidence, our  hope,  and,  in  the  end,  eternal  bliss. 


She  Hlwe  WLomxAs. 


THE  CEREMONIES  OF  HOLY  WEEK  CONSIDERED 
IN  CONNECTION  WITH  HISTORY. 

Monumental  character  of  church  ceremonies — Records  of  the  earliest  ages — Mid- 
night service — Symbolical  power  given  to  rites  suggested  by  necessity — Recol- 
lections of  the  triumph  of  Christianity — Adoration  of  the  Cross — Procession 
on  Palm  Sunday — Adoption  of  the  Trisagion  under  Theodosius — Recollections 
of  the  Middle  Ages — Rites  once  general  here  preserved  from  total  extinction — 
Connection  with  the  Greek  Church. 

AVING  considered  the  Offices  of  Holy  Week  in  their  relations 
with  Art,  as  well  external,  or  in  their  outward  circumstances, 
as  internal,  through  their  essential  forms ;  the  plan  which  I 
have  laid  down  brings  me  to  treat  of  them  in  their  historical 
character,  or  as  connected  with  various  epochs  of  ages  past.  Into  this 
portion  might  most  properly  be  said  to  enter  the  learning  of  my  task ;  as 
it  would  seem  to  require  a  minute  investigation  of  the  cause  and  origin 
of  each  ceremony  observed  in  these  sacred  functions.  But  I  much  doubt 
whether  such  particular  discussions  would  lead  to  much  practical  benefit ; 
and  not  rather,  by  the  variety  of  subjects  and  arguments,  produce  some 
confusion  and  dissatisfaction.  I  prefer,  therefore,  a  method  more  accord- 
ing with  that  which  I  have  hitherto  kept — of  presenting  more  general 
views,  and  classifying  objects  under  heads  which  may  be  remembered, 
and, — when  remembered,  produce  a  wholesome  impression. 

On  hearing  that  I  am  about  to  treat  of  the  historical  value  of  these 
offices  and  ceremonies,  perhaps  many  will  be  inclined  to  prejudge  that  I 
am  anxious  to  prove  them  all  most  ancient,  and  trace  them  back  to  the 
earliest  times  of  Christianity.  Whoever  shall  so  imagine  will  be  com- 
pletely mistaken.  If  the  Catholic  Church,  in  all  things  essential  of  faith 
and  worship,  lays  claim  to  apostolic  antiquity,  she  no  less  holds  a  right 
to  continuity  of  descent ;  and  this,  as  well  as  the  other,  must  be  by  monu- 
ments attested.  When  we  cast  our  eyes  over  England,  and  see,  in  every 
part,  remains  of  ancient  grandeur  belonging  to  a  very  early  age, — raised 
lines  of  praetorian  encampments  and  military  roads,  or  sepulchral  mounds 
with  their  lachrymals  and  brazen  vessels ;  then  in  our  search  find  nothing; 
more,  till,  many  centuries  after,  noble  edifices  for  worship,  first  somewhat 
ruder,  then  ever  growing  in  beauty,  begin  to  cover  the  land  ;  we  conclude,, 
indeed,  that  it  has  long  been  peopled,  but  that  the  break  of  monumental 

(88) 


34  .    DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

continuities  proves  the  later  race  to  have  had  nought  in  common  with 
the  earlier ;  but  that  a  dreary  waste  of  some  sort  must  have  widely  spread 
and  lasted  long  between  them.  Not  so,  on  the  other  hand,  is  it  with  this 
city,  in  which  an  unfailing  series  of  public  monuments,  from  the  earliest 
times,  shows  that  one  people  alone  have  ruled  and  been  great  within  it, 
and  guided  its  policy  upon  a  constant  plan.  It  is  even  thus  with  the 
Church  which,  in  many  and  varied  ways,  has  recorded  its  belief,  its  aspira- 
tions, and  its  feelings,  upon  monuments  of  every  age, — in  none  more 
clearly  than  in  her  sacred  offices.  It  would  be  unnatural  to  refer  many 
of  the  rites  now  observed  to  the  very  earliest  ages.  What  have  joyful 
processions  in  common  with  the  low  and  crooked  labyrinths  of  the  cata- 
combs? How  would  the  palm-branch  grate  upon  the  feelings  of  men 
crushed  under  persecution,  and  praying  in  sackcloth  and  ashes  for  peace  ? 
These  are  the  natural  symbols  of  joy  and  triumph  ;  they  express  the  out- 
burst of  the  heart  when  restored  to  light  and  liberty ;  they  are  forms  of 
Christian  lustration  over  scenes  and  places  that  have  been  defiled  with 
previous  abominations. 

One  striking  difference  between  the  old  and  new  law  seems  to  consist 
in  this,  that  the  latter  was  not  content  to  form  the  spirit  of  the  religious, 
but  moulded  its  external  appearance  to  an  unalterable  type.  The  Jewish 
nation  might  undergo  any  political  modification,  but  the  forms  of  its 
worship,  its  place  and  circumstances,  its  ceremonies  and  expressions,  were 
ever  to  be  the  .same.  And  yet,  with  this  stiff,  unvarying  character,  its 
worship  was  essentially  monumental.  The  paschal  solemnity  was  a  cere- 
monial rite,  acting  dramatically,  and  so  commemorating  the  liberation  of 
Egypt ;  the  Feast  of  Pentecost  reminded  every  succeeding  generation  of 
the  delivery  of  the  law :  that  of  Tabernacles  celebrated  the  long  sojourn 
in  the  desert.  Later,  new  festivals  were  added,  to  record  the  dedication 
of  the  Temple,  under  Solomon,  and  its  purification,  under  the  Machabees, 
and  the  salvation  of  the  people  from  the  cruel  designs  of  Aman.  Many 
of  the  Psalms,  or  canticles  sung  in  the  Temple,  were  likewise  historical, 
or  composed  by  David  on  particular  passages  of  his  life. 

But  in  all  this  we  see  no  power  of  development ;  no  expressive  force 
which  allowed  the  feelings  and  powers  of  each  age  to  imprint  themselves 
on  the  worship,  and  characterize  it  in  later  times  by  the  monumental  re- 
mains of  discipline  and  customs  variable  in  every  age.  In  the  sense 
which  I  have  spoken  of  the  Jewish  religion,  the  Christian  worship  is  em- 
inently monumental,  as  the  very  festivals  of  which  we  are  treating  do 
abundantly  declare.  And  in  addition  to  this,  it  has  continued,  from  age 
to  age,  both  to  institute  new  festivities  as  memorials  of  its  varied  rela- 
tions with  outward  things,  and  to  mark  its  feelings  at  peculiar  seasons,  in 
every  part  of  its  offices  and  prayers.     The  discovery  of  the  cross,  under 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  35 

Constantine,  the  dedication  of  the  Lateran  and  Vatican  basilicas,  and  the 
recovery  of  the  symbol  of  our  salvation,  under  Heraclius,  are  thus  com- 
memorated. In  later  times,  the  foundation  of  institutes  for  redeeming 
captives,  celebrated  in  a  peculiar  feast,  records  the  miserable  subjection 
of  a  great  part  of  Christendom  to  barbarian  tyranny ;  and  festivals  yet  cele- 
brate amongst  us  the  victories  by  which  that  power  was  broken,  and  the 
West  freed  forever  from  its  fear.  When,  in  1634,  Pope  Urban  VIII.  dis- 
covered the  relics  of  St.  Martina  and  rebuilt  her  church,  he  himself  wrote 
the  hymns  for  her  office ;  and  there  deposited  the  last  feelings  of  anxiety 
and  the  last  prayers  of  the  Church  for  her  liberation  from  the  terrors  of 
Mohammedan  power.  In  like  manner  will  posterity  commemorate  each 
succeeding  year,  in  the  hymn  and  lessons  appointed  for  the  24th  of  May, 
the  unexpected  return  of  the  venerable  Pius  VII.  to  the  throne  of  his 
predecessors,  after  his  long  captivity.  In  the  service  pf  the  Church  of 
England  three  or  four  historical  events  have  been,  I  believe,  recorded ; 
the  murder  of  Charles  I.,  the  restoration  of  his  family,  the  arrival  of  King 
William,  and  the  Gunpowder  Plot.  Each  of  these, commemorations  is 
more  connected  with  political  events  than  conducive  to  religious  feel- 
ings ;  the  last,  perhaps,  may  be  considered  as  rather  tending  to  keep  alive 
a  spirit  very  different  from  charity  and  brotherly  kindness.  When  the 
contests  for  the  crown  of  Naples  used  to  bring  into  Italy  periodical  in- 
cursions of  French  armies,  whose  track  was  ever  marked  by  rapine  and 
desolation,  they  were  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  public  scourge,  and  their 
removal  was  deemed  a  fitting  subject  for  prayer.  Hence  in  the  Missals 
of  Lombardy,  at  that  period,  we  find  a  mass  entitled,  "  Missa  contra 
Gallos."  But  no  sooner  was  the  evil  at  an  end  than  the  prayer  was,  in 
good  taste  and  charitable  feeling,  abolished.  The  day,  perhaps,  will 
come  when  similar  motives  may  produce,  in  our  country,  similar  effects. 

But  what  forms  a  distinctive  property  of  Christ's  religion,  is,  that  He 
left  few  or  no  regulations  concerning  external  worship.  He  instituted 
sacraments  that  consist  of  outward  rites  ;  but  left  the  abundance  or  par- 
simony of  external  ceremony,  to  depend  upon  those  circumstances  or 
vicissitudes  through  which  His  Church  should  pass,  and  the  feelings  which 
they  might  inspire.  It  is  this  idea  which  my  discourse  of  to-day  is 
intended  to  develop,  by  representing  to  you  the  ceremonies  of  Holy 
Week,  as  monumental  records  of  various  times  and  ages,  each  of  which 
has  left  its  image  stamped  upon  them  as  they  passed  over.  And  thus, 
methinks,  they  will  possess  an  additional  interest,  as  monumental  proofs 
of  the  continuous  feeling  which  has  preserved,  as  it  embellished,  them, 
from  the  very  beginning. 

The  most  important  functions  of  Holy  Week  are  referred  to  the  com- 
mon and  daily  liturgy  of  the  Church,  and  are  joined  to  it  as  to  a  base 


36  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

which  they  adorn  for  the  time,  with  records  of  events  by  them  com- 
memorated. Palm  Sunday  has  its  blessings  and  procession  only  in 
preparation  for  the  Liturgy  or  Mass  ;  and  its  solemn  Passion  is  only  the 
gospel  adapted  to  the  occasion.  Thursday  and  Saturday  present  nothing 
peculiar,  except  additional  ceremonies  before  or  after  the  same  celebra- 
tion ;  and  Friday's  service  is  a  modification  thereof,  peculiarly  formed  to 
express  the  mourning  and  the  graces  of  that  day.  The  substance,  there- 
fore, so  to  speak,  or  foundation,  upon  which  every  age  has  placed  its 
contribution,  must  form  the  oldest  and  most  venerable  portion  of  the 
service,  and  should,  in  fact,  be  as  old  as  Christianity  itself.  And  so  in 
truth  it  is.  For  the  mass,  whereunto  all  the  other  ceremonial  is  mainly 
referred,  is  nothing  else  than  the  performance  of  the  eucharistic  rite  insti- 
tuted by  our  blessed  Saviour.  It  may  be  considered  as  consisting  of 
two  distinct  portions — one  essential  and  the  other  accidental.  The  first 
consists  of  such  parts  as  are,  and  must  be,  common  to  all  Liturgies,  and 
comprises  the  Offertory  or  oblation,  the  Consecration  by  the  words  of 
Christ,  and  the  Communion.  These  are  all  to  be  found  substantially  the 
same  amongst  all  those  Christians  who  believe  the  Eucharist  to  be  a  sac- 
rifice, and  to  contain  the  real  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ ;  for  they 
occur  in  the  Liturgies  of  Latins  and  Greeks,  Armenians  and  Copts,  Mar- 
onites  and  Syrians  ;  and  moreover,  in  those  of  Jacobites  and  Nestorians, 
who  have  been  separated  from  us  since  the  fifth  century.  But  to  this 
remotest  period  belong  also  many  ceremonies  which,  though  not  essen- 
tial for  the  integrity  of  the  Liturgy,  are  clearly  traceable  to  the  apostolic 
time.  Such,  for  instance,  is  the  prayer  for  the  departed  faithful,  which  is 
wanting  in  no  Liturgy  of  the  East  or  West ;  the  commemoration  of  the 
Apostles  and  Saints ;  the  mingling  of  water  with  the  wine,  the  use  of 
lights  and  incense,  which  have  been  severally  acknowledged  to  be  derived 
from  the  time  of  the  apostles,  by  Bishops  Beveridge  and  Kaye,  by 
Palmer,  and  other  Protestant  writers.  Most  of  the  prayers  which  consti- 
tute the  present  Liturgy  are  to  be  found  in  the  rituals  of  St.  Gregory  the 
Great,  St.  Celestine,  Gelasius,  and  other  early  popes ;  and  may  be  sup- 
posed, consequently,  to  be  still  more  ancient.  I  hurry  over  this  period, 
both  because  I  have  lately  had  occasion  to  treat  concerning  it  in  another 
place,  and  because  it  is  only  remotely  connected  with  the  subject  of  these 
Discourses.  It  was,  however,  necessary  to  say  thus  much,  to  show  the 
groundwork  whereon  the  solemn  functions  of  this  season  rest. 

For  three  centuries  the  Christians  lived  in  persecution  and  conceal- 
ment. This  naturally  led  to  the  selection  of  night,  as  the  fittest  time  for 
the  celebration  of  their  sacred  rites  ;  and  caused  the  greater  portion  of 
the  Church  office  to  be  allotted  to  that  silent  hour.  We  might  likewise 
expect  to  find  whatever  ceremonies  retain  the  remembrance  of  this  state, 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  37 

partaking  of  the  symbolical  and  mystical  spirit  which  such  awful  assem- 
blies mgst  have  inspired.  Of  this  early  period,  monuments  are  not  want- 
ing in  the  offices  of  Holy  Week.  The  very  office  of  Tenebrae  is,  in  truth, 
no  more  than  the  midnight  prayer  of  that  early  age.  It  continued  to  be 
performed  at  midnight  for  many  centuries,  especially  at  this  time,  as 
appears  from  a  very  ancient  mJinuscript  of  the  Roman  Ordo  published  by 
Mabillon,  in  which  it  is  prescribed  to  rise  for  them  at  midnight.  Many 
centuries  ago,  the  anticipation  of  time,  now  observed,  took  place  ;  but  the 
name  and  other  terms  were  kept  to  record  its  earlier  method  of  observ- 
ance. The  service  itself  was  called  Tenebrce  (darkness),  and  Matins,  or 
morning  office ;  and  each  of  its  three  divisions  is  styled  a  Nocturn,  or 
nightly  prayer.  Another  monument  of  that  early  period  may  be  found 
in  the  mass  of  Holy  Saturday.  Throughout  it,  the  service  speaks  of  the 
*^  night ";  it  is  the  night  in  which  Israel  escaped  from  Egypt,  and  which 
preceded  the  resurrection  of  Christ.  For  the  entire  service,  as  I  observed 
in  my  first  Discourse,  refers  to  this  joyful  event,  and  used  to  be  celebrated 
at  midnight. 

The  rites  connected  with  these  primitive  and  solemn  offices  are,  as  I 
have  intimated,  singularly  mystical.  There  have  been  two  classes  of 
writers  regarding  ceremonies.  Some,  like  Du  Vert,  have  wished  to  trace 
them  all  to  some  natural  cause  ;  others  have  wished  to  give  them  exclu- 
sively a  symbolical  and  mysterious  signification.  It  is  probable  that  here, 
as  usually,  truth  lies  between  the  two  extremes ;  and  that,  while  circum- 
stances suggested  the  adoption  of  certain  expedients,  the  faithful  ever 
preferred  so  to  modify  them  in  application,  as  to  make  them  partake  of 
that  deep  mysticism  which  they  so  much  loved.  Thus,  no  doubt,  neces- 
sity as  well  as  choice  compelled  them  to  use  lights  during  those  nightly 
celebrations  ;  but  they  arranged  them  so  as  to  give  them  a  striking 
figurative  power.  In  fact,  Amalarius  Symphosius  (whom  Benedict  XIV. 
confounds  with  Amalarius  Fortunatus,  a  writer  early  in  the  ninth  cen- 
tury) tells  us  that  in  his  time  the  church  was  lighted  up  with  twenty-four 
candles,  which  were  gradually  extinguished,  to  show  how  the  sun  of 
justice  had  set ;  and  this,  he  adds,  we  do  thrice,  that  is  on  three  succeed- 
ing evenings.  This  shows  the  union,  even  at  so  late  an  epoch,  between 
the  obvious  use  of  these  lights  and  their  mystical  application.  The  pres- 
ent disposition  of  them  on  a  triangular  candlestick  is,  however,  much 
older  than  his  time,  and  has  been  preserved  in  a  manuscript  Ordo  of  the 
seventh  century,  published  by  Mabillon.  The  connection  between  the  rite 
and  the  hour  in  which  these  offices  were  originally  celebrated,  may  war- 
rant us  in  considering  both  of  equal  antiquity. 

The  midnight  service  of  Easter  Eve,  now  performed  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing* gives  a  similar  coincidence,  and  stronger  authority  for  this  connection. 


38  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Before  the  mass,  new  fire  is  struck  and  blessed,  and  a  large  candle,  known 
by  the  name  of  the  paschal  candle,  being  blessed  by  a  deacon,  is  there- 
with lighted.  This  blessing  of  fire  or  light  is  a  very  ancient  ceremony, 
originally  practiced  every  Saturday,  and  apparently  restricted  to  Holy 
Saturday  in  the  eleventh  century.  In  the  Roman  Church,  however, 
according  to  Pope  Zachary,  in  751,  thi^  ceremony  was  practiced  on 
Thursday.  These  observations  are  but  cursorily  made.  It  is  the  bene- 
diction of  the  candle  which  is  the  principal  feature  of  this  ceremonial. 
The  beautiful  prayer  in  which  the  consecration,  or  blessing,  takes  place, 
has  been  attributed  to  several  ancient  fathers :  by  Martene,  with  some 
degree  of  probability,  to  the  great  St.  Augustine,  who  very  likely  only 
expressed  better  what  the  prayers  before  his  time  declared.  It  very 
beautifully  joins  the  twofold  object  of  the  institutions.  For,  while  it 
prays  that  this  candle  may  continue  burning  through  the  night,  to  dispel 
its  darkness,  it  speaks  of  it  as  a  symbol  of  the  fiery  pillar  which  led  the 
Israelites  from  Egypt,  and  of  Christ,  ever  true  and  never-failing  light. 
But  the  rite  itself  is  much  older  than  that  age.  Anastasius  Bibliothecarius 
says  of  Pope  Zozimus,  in  417,  that  he  allowed  to  parishes  the  power  of 
blessing  this  candle.  This,  as  Gretser  remarks,  supposes  the  blessing  to 
have  existed  before,  but  to  have  been  confined  to  basilicas.  St.  Paulinus 
speaks  of  the  candle  as  painted,  according  to  the  custom  yet  practiced  in 
Rome ;  and  Prudentius  mentions  its  being  performed  in  allusion,  as 
F.  Aravalo  plausibly  conjectures,  to  the  incense  which  then,  as  now,  was 
inserted  in  it.  What  still  more  pleads  for  the  antiquity  of 'this  rite  is  the 
existence  of  it  in  distant  Churches.  For  St.  Gregory  Nazianzen  mentions 
it,  as  do  other  fathers,  in  magnificent  terms. 

This  year,  being  the  seventh  of  the  pontificate  of  the  present  Pope, 
you  will  have  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  another  very  ancient  rite, 
only  performed  every  seventh  year  of  each  reign.  This  is  the  blessing  of 
the  Agfius  Deij  waxen  cakes  stamped  with  the  figure  of  a  lamb.  It  will 
take  place  in  the  Vatican  Palace,  on  Thursday  in  Easter  week,  and  a 
distribution  of  them  will  be  made  in  the  Sixtine  chapel,  on  the  following 
Saturday.  The  origin  of  this  rite  seems  to  have  been  the  very  ancient 
custom  of  breaking  up  the  paschal  candle  of  the  preceding  year,  and 
distributing  the  fragments  among  the  faithful.  Durandus,  one  of  the 
eldest  writers  on  church  ceremonies,  tells  us,  that  on  Saturday  in  Holy 
Week,  the  acolytes  of  the  Roman  Church  made  lambs  of  new  blessed  wax, 
or  of  that  of  the  old  paschal  candle,  mixed  with  chrism,  which  the  Pope, 
on  the  following  Saturday,  distributes  to  the  faithful.  He  then  enters 
upon  their  spiritual  and  mystical  signification.  Alcuin,  our  countryman, 
and  disciple  of  Venerable  Bede,  tells  us,  that "  in  the  Roman  Church, 
early  in  the  morning  of  Saturday,  the  archdeacon  comes  into  the  church. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  39 

and  pours  wax  into  a  clean  vessel,  and  mixes  it  with  oil,  then  blesses  the 
wax,  moulds  it  into  the  form  of  lambs,  puts  it  by  in  a  clean  place." 
These,  he  says,  "  are  distributed  on  the  octave  of  Easter  ";  and  he  adds, 
"  the  lambs  which  the  Romans  make,  represent  to  us  the  spotless  lamb 
made  for  us,  for  Christ  should  be  brought  to  our  memories  frequently  by 
all  sorts  of  things."  In  the  ceremony,  as  you  will  witness  it,  the  Pope 
himself  will  bless,  and  mingle  with  chrism,  the  figures  of  the  Agnus  Dei 
already  prepared. 

Another  portion  of  the  service,  which  bears  us  back  to  those  earliest 
ages,  deserves  particular  attention,  from  its  being  now,  like  the  last,  pecul- 
iar to  Rome.  It  is  well  known  to  all  that  have  ever  slightly  applied 
themselves  to  the  study  of  Church  history,  that  a  system  of  public  pen- 
ance existed  of  old,  whereby  such  as  had  scandalously  transgressed  God's 
law,  were,  for  a  time,  excluded  from  the  communion  of  the  faithful,  and 
subjected  to  a  course  of  rigorous  expiation.  This  penitential  system  is 
acknowkdged  by  all  to  have  reached  back  into  times  of  persecution,  for 
we  have  repeated  mention  of  it  in  Tertullian,  the  oldest  Latin  ecclesias- 
tical writer ;  and  we  possess  etitire  treatises,  or  epistles,  of  the  glorious 
martyr,  St.  Cyprian,  regarding  it.  The  Catholic  Church  has  everywhere 
preserved  the  ceremony  whereby  the  public  penance  was  enforced,  to  wit, 
on  Ash-Wednesday :  so  called,  from  ashes  having  been,  on  that  day, 
placed  on  the  public  penitents'  heads,  as  now  they  are  on  those  of  all  the 
faithful,  with  the  very  same  words,  "  Remember  that  thou  art  dust,  and 
to  dust  thou  shalt  return."  The  course  of  penance,  thus  enjoined,  might 
last  many  years :  but,  unless  shortened  by  an  indulgence,  or  brought  to  a 
close  upon  danger  of  death,  or  of  persecution,  the  reconciliation  of  the 
penitents  always  took  place  within  Holy  Week.  St.  Jerome  tells  us,  that 
Maundy-Thursday  was  the  day  fixed  for  this  solemn  absolution,  and  Pope 
Innocent  I.  confirms  this  observation.  St.  Ambrose,  however,  observes, 
that  the  rite  sometimes  took  place  on  Wednesday,  Friday,  or  some  other 
day  in  Holy  Week. 

A  remnant  of  this  ancient  custom  has  been  scrupulously  preserved 
here. .  For,  on  the  afternoons  of  Wednesday  and  Thursday,  the  cardinal- 
penitentiary  proceeds  in  state  to  the  basilicas  of  Sta.  Maria  Maggiore  and 
St.  Peter ;  and,  seated  on  a  tribunal  reserved  for  that  purpose,  receives 
the  confession,  or  other  application,  of  such  as  may  wish  to  advise  with 
him  and  obtain  spiritual  relief,  in  matters  reserved  to  his  jurisdiction. 

Another,  and  a  still  more  interesting,  usage  of  those  primitive  times, 
is  yet  retained  in  the  Roman  Church,  almost  exclusively.  In  the  early 
ages,  baptism  was  solemnly  administered  only  twice  in  the  year,  on  the 
eves  of  Easter  and  Pentecost.  The  adult  catechumens  were  carefully 
instructed    in  the  Christian  faith ;    although    many    important  dogmas 


40  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

were  withheld  from  their  knowledge  till  after  baptism.  On  Holy  Satur 
day,  or  Easter  Eve,  they  proceeded  to  the  church,  under  the  guidance 
of  the  deacons  who  had  prepared  them.  Twelve  lessons  from  the  Old 
Testament,  descriptive  of  God's  providential  dealings  with  man,  were  then 
read  in  Greek  and  Latin,  during  which  they  received  their  final  instruc- 
tion in  the  faith.  After  this,  the  baptismal  font  was  blessed  with  many 
solemn  ceremonies.  Thus  far  the  rite  is  universal,  to  the  extent  that 
circumstances  will  permit :  the  lessons  are  everywhere  recited,  or  sung, 
and  the  font  is  blessed  wherever  the  privilege  of  having  one  exists.  But 
in  Rome,  the  ancient  usage  is  imitated  to  the  end.  For,  solemn  bap- 
tism is  always  administered  to  converts,  who  are  reserved  for  that  occa- 
sion, generally  Jews,  of  whom  a  certain  number  yearly  enter  into  the 
Catholic  Church.  This  takes  place  in  the  baptistery  of  Constantine, 
adjoining  the  patriarchal  basilica  of  St.  John  Lateran. 

Such  are  the  principal  points  in  the  ceremonial  of  Holy  Week,  which 
can  be  traced  with  sufficient  probability  to  the  oldest  period  of  the 
Church,  when  she  yet  was  in  an  humble  and  persecuted  state :  and  they 
clearly  bear  the  impress  of  her  condition  and  feelings.  The  midnight 
assemblies  still  commemorated,  both  in  her  sacred  offices  and  in  the 
Eucharistic  celebration,  show  the  state  of  alarm  in  which  she  then  existed  ; 
and  the  mystical  signification  given  to  institutions,  in  a  manner  dictated 
by  necessity,  exhibits  the  depth  and  nobleness  of  idea  which  even  then 
regulated  her  in  her  worship.  The  commemoration  of  that  solemnity 
wherewith  she  received  repentant  sinners  back  to  her  peace,  is  a  record 
of  the  purity  which  distinguished  all  her  members,  and  the  zeal  for  virtue 
which  animated  her  pastors.  In  fine,  the  rare  and  cautious  initiation  of 
her  catechumens  through  the  sacrament  of  baptism,  from  danger  of  their 
betraying  the  secrets  of  religion,  is  commemorated  in  the  lessons,  and  still 
more  in  the  actual  rite  as  performed  here  on  Holy  Saturday.  And  thus, 
too,  at  Rome,  there  is  a  consistency  in  the  entire  office  of  Easter,  not  to 
be  found  elsewhere,  inasmuch  as  the  Liturgy,  during  the  following  week, 
prays  most  especially  for  those  who  have  been  just  born  again  of  water 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  they  may  persevere  in  the  faith  ;  and  the  Sunday 
immediately  following  Easter  is  still  called,  everywhere,  Dominica  in  albis, 
"  Sunday  of  the  white  garments,"  as  on  it,  the  new  baptized  should  lay 
aside  the  white  robe,  put  on  them,  by  most  ancient  usage,  on  their  baptism. 
And  this  reminds  me  of  another  ceremonial,  not  quite  so  ancient,  but 
still  reaching  to  the  fifth  century.  I  allude  to  the  custom  of  the  neophytes, 
after  baptism,  going  to  visit  the  tomb  of  the  holy  apostles  at  the  Vatican. 
Ennodius  of  Pavia  mentions  this  as  a  custom  in  his  time.  "  See,"  he  ob- 
serves, "  how  the  watery  chamber  (the  baptistery)  sends  forth  its  white- 
robed  troops  to  the  portable  chair  of  the  apostolical  confession." 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  41 

Under  Constantine  the  Church  gained  freedom,  and  the  right  to 
breathe,  and  still  more  the  power  of  expanding  her  outward  form  and 
displaying  all  her  beauty.  To  this  period  belong  many  of  the  functions 
of  Holy  Week,  one  or  two  of  which  deserve  more  particular  notice  ;  and 
first  is  the  act  of  solemn  veneration  shown  to  the  cross  of  Christ  on  Good 
Friday,  known  by  the  name  of  "The  Adoration  of  the  Cross."  Two 
things  seem  to  deserve  parti'cular  notice,  the  origin  of  the  ceremony,  and 
the  term  applied  to  it. 

When  Helen,  the  emperor's  mother,  discovered  the  cross  of  Christ  in 
his  sepulchre,  we  are  told  that  it  was  exposed  to  the  veneration  of  the 
faithful.  From  this  moment  the  custom  arose  in  the  Church  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  from  it  spread  so  rapidly  over  the  East  and  West  as  to  become 
very  soon  universal.  St.  Paulinus  informs  us,  that  once  a  year  the  por- 
tion of  the  same  cross  preserved  there  was  solemnly  brought  out,  and 
that  this  was  at  Easter ;  and  he  defines  the  day  more  accurately,  by  say- 
ing it  was  on  the  day  which  celebrated  the  mystery  of  the  cross,  that  is 
Good  Friday.  St.  Gregory  of  Tours  mentions  the  same  custom.  This 
rite  was  soon  adopted  at  Constantinople,  where  a  portion  of  the  same 
cross  was  offered  to  the  veneration  of  the  faithful  in  the  church  of  St. 
Sophia,  as  Ven.  Bede  and  other  writers  inform  us.  Indeed,  the  Emperor 
Constantine  Porphyrogenitus  has  described  minutely  the  ceremonies  used 
on  that  occasion.  Leo  Allatius  has  proved  the  prevalence  of  the  custom 
among  other  nations  in  the  East.  Cardinal  Borgia  published  a  manu- 
script preserved  in  the  Propaganda,  and  written  in  Syriac,  entitled  "  The 
rite  of  saluting  the  Cross  as  observed  in  the  Syrian  Church  at  Antioch." 
Two  other  copies  of  the  ceremonial,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Maronite 
College,  are  now  in  the  Vatican  Library,  and  amply  attest  the  prevalence 
of  this  rite  in  the  oriental  Church.  Naironus,  himself  a  Syrian,  has  mi- 
nutely described  the  ceremony  as  performed  by  the  Maronites,  or  ancient 
Christians  of  Mount  Libanus,  on  this  very  day.  The  ritual  is  entitled, 
"  Order  of  the  Adoration  of  the  Cross,"  and  is  prescribed  to  be  observed 
on  Good  Friday.  The  proclamation  and  prayers  are  nearly  word  for 
word  the  same  as  ours,  and  after  them  the  cross  is  placed  on  a  seat  or 
cushion  in  the  church,  and  surrounded  by  two  priests  and  two  deacons, 
who  sing  the  Trisagion,  or  "  thrice  holy,"  before  mentioned,  just  as  you 
will  find  observed  in  the  Pontifical  chapel. 

The  exact  conformity  of  rites,  and  even  words,  in  the  liturgies  of  different 
countries,  is  a  strong  presumptive  argument  of  great  antiquity.  In  fact, 
this  rite  seems  to  have  been  soon  adopted  in  the  Western  Church ;  for  we 
find  it  mentioned  in  the  Sacramentary  of  Pope  Gelasius,  the  most  ancient 
existing,  as  approved  and  corrected  by  the  learned  Muratori.  The  antiphon 
now  used  at  the  ceremony  is  in  the  Antiphonary  of  St.  Gregory,  and  in 


42  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

the  Roman  order,  which  Mabillon  refers  to  that  Pontiff's  time.  What 
farther  confirms  the  origin  of  this  rite  from  the  custom  of  the  Church  of 
Jerusalem  is,  that  the  expressions  used  in  it  clearly  refer  to  the  true  cross 
there  preserved :  "  Behold  the  wood  of  the  cross  whereon  our  salvation 
hung."  We  have  then  clearly,  in  this  instance,  a  ceremonial  expressive  of 
the  triumph  of  Christianity — of  the  exaltation  of  its  sacred  emblem  above 
every  other  badge,  a  proclamation  of  the  principle,  that  through  it  alone 
salvation  was  wrought,  the  vindication  of  it  from  ignominy  and  hatred, 
which,  for  three  centuries,  had  been  its  lot,  and  the  paying  of  a  public 
tribute  of  honor,  love,  and  veneration  to  Him  who  hung  upon  it,  in  repara- 
tion of  the  blasphemy,  and,  in  His  disciples,  persecution,  wherewith  He 
had  been  visited.  All  these  are  precisely  the  natural  feelings  of  the  age, 
which  first  saw  Christianity  not  only  free,  but  triumphant;  and  which, 
having  discovered  the  very  instruments  of  redemption,  would  have  acted 
unfeelingly,  if,  like  the  murderers  of  our  Lord,  it  had  allowed  them  to 
be  again  thrown  into  oblivion,  and  had  not  displayed,  in  their  presence, 
some  of  the  affectionate  sentiments  inspired  by  the  event  which  they 
attested. 

But  I  may  be  asked,  why  make  this  declaration  of  sentiment  in  so 
strong  a  form,  and  why  give  it  so  grating  a  name  as  "adoration"?  In 
fairness,  I  should  send  any  one  asking  such  a  question,  for  his  answer,  to 
them  who  first  introduced  the  rite,  and  with  it  the  name.  For,  had  we 
brought  it  in,  since  this  word  sounds  harsh,  we  might,  peradventure, 
deserve  blame,  as  not  having  regard  to  others'  feelings.  But  if  a  word 
changes  its  meaning,  after  we  have  adopted  it,  it  would  argue  great 
weakness  and  fickleness  of  purpose  in  us  to  abandon  it,  as  it  supposes 
some  extravagance  in  those  who  ask  us  to  do  it.  For  it  is  meet  on  the 
contrary,  that,  amidst  the  fluctuations  and  changes  in  speech,  some  land- 
marks should  remain  to  ascertain  the  original  meanings  of  words ;  which 
would  not  be  the  case  if  every  use  of  them  varied  with  them.  Our 
lawyers  and  our  statutes  choose  to  preserve  the  old  words  of  our  lan- 
guage, even  where  custom  has  long  since  changed  their  meaning,  when 
they  speak  of  the  seizin  of  an  estate  to  signify  its  lawful  possession  ;  or 
of  letting  a  man  do  an  action,  when  they  mean  to  signify  preventing  it. 
As  the  dialect  of  law,  so  is  that  of  religion ;  or  rather  this  is  far  more 
unchangeable,  as  are  its  purposes ;  and  as  the  Church  has  chosen  to  pre- 
serve the  Latin  language  rather  than  adopt  the  later  tongues  that  have 
sprung  up,  so  has  she  in  this  kept  her  words  as  she  first  found  them,  and 
not  altered  them  when  men  have  given  them  new  meanings.  The  same 
principle  has  prevented  either  change. 

Now,  wherever  the  rite  of  venerating  the  cross  of  Christ  has  been 
introduced,  it  has  ever  borne  that  maligned  title  of  "  adoration."     Nay,  I 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  43 

can  show  you,  that  in  the  East  and  West  this  expression  was  used,  even 
when  the  hatred  to  idolatry  was  the  strongest.  Lactantius,  or  the  author 
of  a  most  ancient  poem  upon  the  Passion,  thus  exclaims — 

"  Flecte  genu,  lig^umque  crucis  venerabile  adora." 

"  Bend  the  knee,  and  adore  the  venerable  wood  of  the  cross."  An 
ancient  martyr  is  described  by  Bishop  Simeon,  as  thus  addressing  his 
judge :  "  I  and  my  daughter  were  baptized  in  the  Holy  Trinity,  and  his 
cross  I  adore ;  and  for  him,"  that  is  Christ,  "  I  will  willingly  die,  as  will 
my  daughter."  This  passage  is  from  an  oriental  writer,  who  surely  would 
not  have  put  into  a  martyr's  mouth,  about  to  die  for  refusing  to  worship 
idolatrously,  words  which  savored  themselves  of  that  heinous  crime.  The 
Greeks  used  the  very  same  word.  For  in  the  old  Greek  version  of  St. 
Ephrem,  who  was  the  most  ancient  Syriac  father,  and  which  was  made,  if 
not  in  his  lifetime,  very  soon  after,  we  find  these  words,  "  The  cross 
ruleth,  which  all  nations  adore,  and  all  people." 

The  word,  therefore,  signified  veneration,  and  the  rite  must  be  more 
ancient  than  the  modern  meaning  of  *'  supreme  worship,"  which  it  now 
bears.  And  it  would  be  as  foolish  in  us  to  change  the  word,  because 
others  have  changed  its  meaning,  as  it  would  be  for  the  Anglicans  to 
alter  the  marriage  rite,  where  the  bride  and  bridegroom  declare,  that  with 
their  bodies  they  worship  one  another;  because  the  Presbyterians,  or 
rather  Independents  of  Cromwell,  would  have  worship  paid  to  no  man ; 
or,  because  in  modern  speech,  the  word  is  restricted  to  divine  service. 
But  if  any  one  should  prefer  to  give  our  word  its  ordinary  meaning,  I 
have  no  great  objection,  provided  he  will  allow  us,  who  surely  have  the 
right  to  determine  the  object  toward  which  our  homage  and  adoration 
tend, — to  wit,  Him  who  hung  and  bled  and  died  upon  the  cross,  and  not 
its  material  substance.  Nor  would  such  a  distinction  savor  of  modern 
refinement  and  sophistry,  seeing  it  is  that  of  St.  Jerome,  who  thus  speaks 
of  Paula,  in  her  epitaph :  "  Prostrate  before  our  Lord's  cross,  she  so 
adored,  as  though  she  beheld  our  Lord  himself  hanging  thereon."  The 
fathers  of  the  seventh  general  council  fully  explain  this  matter,  and 
vindicate  the  words  and  forms  in  which  this  worship  is  at  present  exhib- 
ited. Thus  much  has  seemed  necessary,  to  prevent  any  of  you  being 
withheld,  by  any  mistaken  feelings,  from  fully  valuing  this  most  ancient 
and  venerable  recollection  of  the  first  liberation  of  Christianity  from  the 
house  of  temporal  bondage,  and  its  first  erection  of  a  public  triumphant 
worship.  To  this  same  period,  I  think,  we  may  safely  refer  the  use  of 
processions,  especially  that  of  Palm  Sunday;  for  it,  like  the  foregoing,  is 
to  be  found,  immediately  after,  universal  throughout  the  Church.  For  in 
the   East  they  have,  from  the  earliest  ages,  practiced  the  ceremony  of 


44  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

carrying  palm  and  olive  branches  to  the  church  on  Lazarus  Saturday,  as 
the  eve  of  Palm  Sunday  used  to  be  called,  and  having  them  blessed  the 
next  day.  At  Constantinople  it  was  customary  for  the  emperor  to  dis- 
tribute the  palms  with  great  solemnity  to  all  his  courtiers.  In  Rome  it 
would  seem,  from  old  documents  published  by  Mabillon,  that  originally 
the  blessing  of  the  palms  for  the  papal  chapel  took  place  in  a  small 
church,  called  Our  Lady  of  the  Tower,  (Sta.  Maria  ad  Turrim,)  from  its 
being  situated  beside  the  belfry  of  the  old  Vatican  church,  and  that 
thence  the  procession  moved  and  ended  at  the  high  altar  of  St.  Peter's. 
It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  mention,  that,  anciently,  the  ceremonies  of 
each  day  used  to  be  performed  in  different  churches,  with  the  Pope's 
attendance,  and  that  the  memory  of  this  circumstance,  unimportant  as  it 
may  be,  has  been  carefully  recorded  in  the  service.  For,  to  that  of  each 
day,  you  will  find  prefixed  the  title  of  a  church,  as  the  station  of  the  day; 
that  is,  as  the  place  where  the  pontiff  and  the  faithful  stood  to  pray. 
But,  for  some  centuries,  this  custom  has  been  disused ;  and  all  the  func- 
tions have  been  reunited  in  the  Vatican  and  its  chapels. 

Martene  had  affirmed,  that  no  trace  of  the  ceremonies  of  this  Sunday 
could  be  discovered  in  the  Roman  Church  before  the  eighth  or  even  the 
ninth  century.  But  this  assertion  has  been  fully  refuted  by  Cardinal 
Tommasi,  Meratus,  and  others.  For  the  old  Roman  calendar,  published 
by  Martene  himself,  as  belonging  to  the  fourth  or  fifth  century,  mentions 
the  palms  and  the  station  at  St.  John's.  In  the  Sacramentary  of  St. 
Gregory,  the  prayer  mentions  the  palm-branches  borne  in  their  hands  by 
the  faithful. 

This  again  is  a  ceremony  strongly  bearing,  like  the  one  before  de- 
scribed, the  signet  of  its  age,  beautifully  characteristic  of  the  season  of 
triumph  and  pre-eminence  which  the  Church  had  begun  to  enjoy;  and  an 
apt  record  of  that  feeling  in  which  it  could  take  part  in  the  glories  of  its 
acknowledged  Lord,  as  well  as  sympathize  with  Him  in  His  sufferings. 

In  the  service  of  Good  Friday,  we  have  a  little  fragment  which  be- 
longs to  a  period  somewhat  later  than  the  foregoing,  and  betrays  its 
origin  by  its  language.  This  is  the  Trisagion,  sung  alternately  with  the 
Improperia,  both  of  which  I  have  several  times  had  occasion  to  mention. 
The  Scripture  has  more  than  once  recorded  the  song  of  the  spirits,  who 
stand  nearest  to  God's  throne,  as  being  an  unceasing  repetition  of  "  holy" 
thrice  pronounced.  This  formula  of  solemn  veneration  the  Church  soon 
adopted  in  her  daily  liturgy,  where  it  yet  remains.  In  the  time  of  Theo- 
dosius  an  epithet  was  added  to  each  of  these  exclamations,  and  a  prayer 
for  mercy  at  the  conclusion.  The  Greek  Menology  not  only  records  this 
date,  but  gives  a  marvellous  account  of  the  origin  of  the  triple  invoca- 
tion.    It  tells  us  that,  in  the  reign  of  Theodosius,  the  city  of  Constanti- 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN,  45 

nople  was  visited  by  a  frightful  earthquake  and  apparently  a  whirlwind, 
in  which  a  boy  was  caught  and  raised  aloft  in  the  air.  The  emperor  and 
the  patriarch  Proclus  were  present,  with  an  immense  multitude,  and  cried 
out  in  the  usual  form  of  supplication,  "  Kyrie  eleison,"  "  Lord,  have  mercy 
upon  us."  The  child  came  down  safe,  and  called  aloud  to  them  to  sing 
the  Trisagion,  or  "thrice  holy"  in  this  manner:  "  Holy  God!  Holy  and 
Mighty,  Holy  and  Immortal."  He  had  scarcely  finished  these  words 
when  he  expired.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  this  legend,  there  can 
be  no  objection  to  the  date  which  it  supposes;  and  certain  it  is,  that, 
from  that  time,  it  has  often  and  often  been  repeated  in  different  parts  of 
the  Greek  ritual.  Thence  it  passed  into  the  office  of  Good  Friday,  where 
it  is  repeated  both  in  Greek  and  Latin ; — another  proof  of  antiquity,  as  it 
must  have  been  admitted  before  the  separation  of  the  two  Churches  by 
Photius. 

After  this  period  we  begin  to  plunge  into  the  obscurity  of  an  age  less 
distinct  in  its  historical  monuments.  It  becomes  extremely  difficult  to 
assign  the  exact  date  of  these  ceremonies,  which,  during  it,  sprang  up,  or 
to  discover  the  authors  of  the  beautiful  canticles  then  inserted  into  the 
service.  Yet  this  darkness  is  not  without  its  interest ;  and  powerfully 
attests  the  spirit  of  those  ages  in  regard  to  religion.  For  a  difficulty  in 
ascertaining  the  origin  of  certain  rites  proceeds  from  the  gradual,  and  al- 
most imperceptible,  manner  in  which  they  were  communicated  from 
Church  to  Church.  The  love  of  dangerous  innovation  had  not  yet  ap- 
peared ;  and  it  had  not  been  thought  necessary  to  repress  any  manifesta- 
tion of  devout  feeling  which  might  accidentally  spring  up  in  particular 
places,  from  an  assurance  that  it  would  be  innocent,  and  strictly  accord- 
ing with  sound  doctrine.  In  this  manner,  each  great  Church  came  to 
have  its  own  peculiarities ;  and  if  they  were  really  worthy  of  the  honor, 
were  soon  embraced,  at  least  in  part,  by  others ;  and  so  being  sifted 
through  the  experience  of  ages,  that  which  was  best  came  to  be  univers- 
ally kept,  and  the  less  perfect  went  into  disuse,  till  a  certain  uniformity 
was  introduced. 

The  same  is  to  be  said  of  the  hymns  and  other  compositions  of  the 
middle  ages,  as  they  are  called ;  beautiful  specimens  whereof  have  been 
preserved  in  the  Holy  Week  service ;  but  here  is  an  additional  obstacle 
to  our  discovery  of  their  origin.  For,  as  in  the  former,  there  was  no  par- 
ticular necessity  for  ascertaining  the  Church  from  which  any  special  cere- 
mony was  received ;  so  here  the  modesty,  or,  more  Christianly  to  speak, 
the  humility,  of  the  authors,  led  them  to  conceal,  in  every  way,  their 
names ;  so  that  while  every  one  admires  those  sweet,  and  often  sublime 
compositions,  such  as  are  also  the  Dies  Ires,  Stabat  Mater,  etc.,  hardly  one 
can  be  attributed  to  its  author  with  any  degree  of  certainty.     The  causes 


46  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

of  obscurity  are  thus  shown  to  attest  the  spirit  of  this  age,  in  the  close 
communion  and  charitable  bond,  without  envy  and  jealousy,  of  different 
Churches,  and  in  the  humility  and  true  modesty  of  its  saints  and  sages. 

But  the  functions  and  ceremonies  of  this  period  may  be  considered  in 
another  light,  no  less  important  and  interesting ;  as  the  remains  of  cus- 
toms once  universal,  or  very  general,  but  during  those  ages  abolished, 
yet  preserved  monumentally  in  this  particular  season.  In  this  manner, 
they  are  not  institutions  so  much  as  fragments  or  remnants  of  old  liturgi- 
cal forms,  which  would  have  disappeared  entirely  but  for  this  care.  Let 
us  illustrate  this  view  by  a  few  examples. 

It  is  well  known,  that,  for  several  centuries,  the  communion  was  gen- 
erally administered  to  the  faithful  under  both  kinds.  Not,  indeed,  that 
this  was  at  all  considered  necessary  for  the  validity,  or  even  integrity  of 
the  sacrament,  for  it  would  be  easy  to  prove,  by  many  passages  and  his- 
tories, that  it  was  often  given  in  only  one  form.  Many  circumstances, 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  detail,  conspired  to  induce  the  Church  to 
adopt,  in  lay  communion,  the  form  of  bread  only.  I  will  content  myself 
with  one  circumstance,  which  seems  to  me  worthy  of  notice,  as  an  addi- 
tional justification  of  the  restriction,  after  what  has  been  repeatedly  urged 
with  success.  The  Christian  religion  is  one  for  all  times  and  all  places  ; 
and  its  sacraments  should  be  such  as  to  suit  this  universality  of  its 
destination.  Now,  there  are-numberless  situations  in  which  the  faithful 
would  be  deprived  of  the  Eucharist,  could  it  be  lawfully  and  validly  ad- 
ministered only  in  both  forms.  For  instance,  in  the  interior  of  China 
and  Siam,  with  the  neighboring  countries,  almost  always  in  a  state  of 
persecution,  there  are  at  least  half  a  million  of  Catholics.  Not  to  con- 
sider the  obstacles,  arising  from  a  state  of  persecution,  to  a  cultivation, 
which  would  betray  its  object,  and  consequently  defeat  it,  every  attempt 
to  rear  the  vine  has  failed  in  these  countries ;  and  the  missionaries  are 
obliged  to  depend  for  their  sacramental  wine,  on  the  small  quantities 
which  can,  with  risk  even  of  life,  be  clandestinely  conveyed  over  the  fron- 
tier, after  it  has  come  from  very  distant  lands.  Nay,  they  are  often, 
especially  in  the  interior,  for  a  long  time  unable  to  celebrate  mass,  on  ac- 
count of  this  difficulty.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  multitude  of 
poor  afflicted  faithful,  standing  more  in  need  than  others  of  spiritual 
nourishment,  would  have  to  live  and  die  without  the  comfort  of  this 
sacrament,  if  the  partaking  of  both  species  were  absolutely  necessary. 
But  to  return ;  with  the  exception  of  a  particular  privilege  granted  to 
some  sovereigns  at  their  coronation,  almost  the  only  example  of  the 
chalice  being  received  by  any  except  the  celebrating  priest,  occurs  in  the 
pontifical  mass  on  Easter  Sunday,  when  the  deacon  and  subdeacon  par- 
take of  the  cup  after  the  Pope. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  47 

But  there  is  another  observance  connected  with  this  matter,  which  has 
been  preserved  only  here.  One  of  the  reasons,  which  led  to  the  restric- 
tion of  communion  to  one  species  only,  was  the  accidents  to  which  the  other 
was  liable.  For  communion  being  a  practice  even  now,  and,  much  more 
anciently,  of  almost  daily  use  in  churches,  and  on  many  occasions  fre- 
quented by  thousands,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  prevent  some  portion 
of  the  consecrated  wine  being  spilt,  especially  when  received  by  the  ruder 
sort.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience,  to  some  extent,  the  -practice  was 
introduced,  probably  after  the  sixth  century,  of  administering  the  chalice 
through  a  silver  tube;  so  that  the  cup  being  held  steadily  in  the  priest's 
or  deacon's  hand,  and  only  the  tube  placed  to  the  receiver's  mouth,  there 
would  be  but  little  comparative  danger  of  an  accident,  which  the  Catholic 
belief  concerning  the  Eucharist  must  render  particularly  distressing.  This 
tube  was  called  a  siphon.  Casalius  informs  us,  that  the  Abbot  of  Monte 
Casino  used  to  receive  the  chalice  in  this  manner.  Paul  Volzius  first  dis- 
covered this  to  have  been  a  usual  practice,  from  its  being  prescribed  in 
an  old  book  of  signs  {Liber  Signorurti)  extant  in  many  Benedictine 
houses.  Among  the  oldest  rules  of  the  Carthusians,  contemporary  with 
St.  Bernard,  we  have  this  order  in  the  fortieth  chapter :  "  Let  no  church 
possess  any  ornaments  of  gold  or  silver,  except  the  chalice,  and  the  tube 
through  which  the  blood  of  our  Lord  is  received."  An  old  commentator 
on  Tertullian  mentions  an  inventory  of  the  church  of  Mainz,  written 
nearly  800  years  ago,  in  which  are  enumerated,  among  the  gold  crosses 
and  chalices,  six  silver  tubes  used  for  the  same  purpose.  The  use  of  this 
tube  has  been  gradually  abandoned  everywhere,  except  in  the  pontifical 
mass  celebrated  by  the  Pope  three  times  a  year,  of  which  one  takes  place 
on  Easter-day.  The  custom  of  thus  receiving  the  sacred  cup  often,  ap- 
pears novel  and  strange  to  persons  unaccustomed  to  it ;  but  it  is  a  matter 
of  interest  to  the  lover  of  ecclesiastical  antiquity,  who  would  not  willing- 
ly allow  old  usages  to  be  abolished,  especially  in  this  their  last  hold  and 
proper  refuge. 

I  will  instance  another  point  of  ancient  practice,  once  probably  com- 
mon to  every  church,  but  now  hardly  observed  except  in  St.  Peter's.  The 
altars  are  everywhere  formally  stripped  on  Holy  Thursday,  and  remain 
uncovered  until  the  following  Saturday.  During  Tenebrae  on  Thursday 
evening,  each  of  the  canons,  and  other  functionaries  of  St.  Peter's,  re- 
ceives a  species  of  brush  curiously  made  of  chip,  and  after  the  office,  the 
entire  chapter  proceeds  to  the  high  altar,  where  seven  flagons  of  wine 
and  water  have  been  prepared.  These  are  poured  upon  the  altar,  and 
the  canons,  passing  six  at  a  time  before  it,  rub  it  all  over  with  their 
brushes,  after  which  it  is  washed  with  sponges  and  dried.  Saint  Isidore, 
of  Seville,  in  the  seventh  century,  mentions  the  custom  of  washing  the 


48  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

altars,  and  even  the  pavement,  of  the  church  on  this  day,  in  commemora- 
tion of  that  act  of  humility,  by  which  our  Redeemer  washed  His  disciples" 
feet ;  and  St.  Eligius  records,  in  similar  terms,  both  the  practice  and  the 
motive.  The  Roman  Ordo,  Abbot  Rupert,  and  other  writers,  speak  of 
this  ceremony  as  commonly  practiced ;  and  many  documents  of  the  mid- 
dle ages  show  it  to  have  been  observed  at  Sienna,  Benevento,  Bologna, 
and  other  churches.  It  was  n6  less  practiced  in  England ;  for  the  Sarum 
Missal  thus  describes  it :  "  After  dinner,  let  all  the  clerks  meet  in  the 
church  to  wash  the  altars.  First,  let  water  be  blessed  out  of  choir  and 
privately.  Then  let  two  of  the  most  dignified  priests  be  prepared,  with 
a  deacon  and  subdeacon,  and  two  acolytes,  all  vested  in  albs  and  amices, 
and  let  two  clerks  bear  wine  and  water,  and  let  them  begin  with  the  high 
altar  and  wash  it,  pouring  thereon  wine  and  water."  After  a  minute  de- 
scription of  the  prayers  to  be  said  in  the  course  of  the  ceremony,  the 
rubric  proceeds :  "  After  the  gospel  has  been  sung  as  at  mass,  the  two 
aforesaid  priests  shall  wash  the  feet  of  all  in  choir,  one  on  one  side  and 
another  on  the  other,  and  then  shall  do  the  same  mutually."  Many 
prayers  are  then  said,  and  another  gospel  read,  during  which  it  is  said, 
"the  brethren  shall  drink  the  cup  of  charity,  charitatis potumr 

In  the  many  learned  treatises  written  upon  the  origin  of  this  cere- 
mony, this  curious  union  of  two  practices,  elsewhere  divided  between 
morning  and  afternoon,  has  been  overlooked,  though  it  is  the  strongest 
confirmation  of  St.  Isidore's  interpretation  against  the  objections  of  Du 
Vert,  Batelli,  and  others.  In  the  Greek  Church  the  practice  is  still  ob- 
served, as  Leo  Allatius  has  proved  at  length,  as  it  is  among  the  Domini- 
cans and  Carmelites.  But  almost  everywhere  else  it  has  disappeared, 
except  in  the  Vatican  basilica,  where  you  may  see  it  practiced  on  Thurs- 
day evening. 

These  examples  will  suffice  to  show  how  the  ceremonies  of  Holy 
Week,  as  performed  in  the  Vatican,  have  preserved  rites  formerly  very 
general  in  the  Church,  but  which  would  have  been  almost  entirely 
lost  in  practice,  had  they  not  been  here  jealously  observed.  There  is 
another  great  historical  point,  of  which  testimony  has  been  recorded  in 
these  sacred  functions,  and  which,  therefore,  must  not  be  passed  over. 
This  is  the  ancient  union  between  the  Latin  and  Greek  Churches,  and  the 
reconciliation  after  the  latter's  defection.  Of  the  former,  evidence  is 
given  in  the  use  of  Greek  words  and  phrases  in  the  Liturgy :  one  in- 
stance, the  Kyrie  Eleison^  belongs  to  every  day ;  you  have  seen,  in  the 
adoption  of  the  Greek  Trisagion,  a  testimony  peculiar  to  the  service  of 
Holy  Week.  Anciently,  there  were  other  instances  ;  as,  for  example,  the 
one  to  which  I  before  alluded,  when  I  said  that  the  lessons  on  Holy 
Saturday,  intended  for  the  catechumens'  instruction,  used  to  be  sung  in 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  49 

both  languages.  Anastasius  Bibliothecarius  tells  us  that  Benedict  III. 
had  a  book  written,  in  which  were  the  Greek  and  Latin  lessons,  to  be 
sung  on  Holy  Saturday.  Mabillon  has  brought  abundant  evidence  of 
this  usage,  which  is  mentioned  by  Amalarius  about  the  year  812,  and 
several  other  writers  of  the  following  centuries.  Later,  it  would  appear 
that  the  double  recitation  was  confined  to  the  first  of  the  twelve  lessons, 
as  otherwise  the  service  would  have  been  excessively  long.  We  find  in- 
deed, in  the  eleventh  century,  the  clause  added  to  this  rubric,  "  Si  Dom- 
inus  Papa  velit  "  (if  our  Lord  the  Pope  wishes  it) ;  and  thus,  probably, 
by  its  not  being  often  required,  the  custom  gradually  disappeared.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  practice  which  formerly  prevailed  of  singing  the 
epistle  and  gospel  in  Greek  as  well  as  Latin,  on  Good  Friday.  Both  these 
observances  were  revived  in  the  last  century,  by  Pope  Benedict  XIIL, 
who  was  most  studious  and  tenacious  of  ancient  rites,  but  relapsed  into 
desuetude  after  his  time.  However  desirable  it  might  be  to  have  these 
old  usages  restored,  I  think  these  circumstances  can  hardly  fail  to  strike 
the  eye,  as  strongly  illustrating  the  historical  view  I  am  taking  to-day  of 
these  offices  and  functions.  For  we  see,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the 
Church  has  carefully  kept  all  that  she  received  from  the  Greek  Church,  in 
relation  to  the  worship  of  Him  who  cannot  change ;  for,  whatever  prayers 
she  was  used  to  recite  in  that  language,  she  did  not  allow  any  feelings 
toward  that,  her  rebellious  daughter,  and  now  bitter  adversary,  to  abolish. 
But  such  instruction  as  used  to  be  recited  in  that  tongue,  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  strangers  who  spoke  it,  and  happened  to  be  present,  she  allowed 
to  drop,  without  any  act  of  angry  abrogation,  into  neglect,  as  no  longer 
of  use.  When,  however,  the  Greek  Church,  in  the  council  of  Florence, 
was  reunited  to  her,  and  owned  obedience  to  the  Holy  See,  it  was  decreed 
that  the  Pope,  on  solemn  occasions,  should  be  served  by  a  Greek  as  well 
as  a  Latin  deacon  and  subdeacon,  and  that  the  gospel  and  epistle  should 
be  sung  in  both  languages.  This  regulation  has  been  ever  since  duly  ob- 
served, as  you  will  see  on  Easter-day ;  when  two  Greek  attendants,  vested 
in  the  sacred  robes  of  their  own  nation,  (the  deacon  wearing  the  stole,  as- 
of  old,  upon  his  left  shoulder,  and  having  embroidered  on  it  the  word 
"  holy,"  thrice  repeated,)  will  sing  those  two  portions  of  the  Liturgy  in 
the  Greek  language  and  chant.  This  completes  the  history  of  the  con- 
nection between  the  two  Churches.  The  old  prayers,  once  common  to 
both,  and  yet  retained  by  us,  give  evidence  of  former  union.  The  silent 
abolition  of  the  instructions  given  in  that  language,  attests  the  subse- 
quent separation  ;  and  the  rite  prescribed  to  commemorate  the  reunion,  not 
only  records  that  event,  but  by  its  continuance,  acts  as  a  protest  against 
the  perfidy  which  violated  the  solemn  stipulations  there  made,  and  proves 
the  readiness  of  the  Roman  Church  to  keep  up  to  all  her  engagements. 


50  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

The  principle  by  which  I  have  endeavored  to  show  that  the  offices  of 
the  Holy  Week,  especially  as  performed  in  Rome,  ought  to  be  viewed,  is 
the  consideration  of  them  as  monumental  observances  sprung  up  in  dif- 
ferent ages,  and  accurately  recording  the  condition  and  feeling  of  each. 
Nothing  but  a  divine  enactment  can  give  to  the  external  forms  of  wor- 
ship an  invariable  character,  such  as  in  great  measure  was  bestowed  upon 
that  of  Israel.  Of  any  command  or  direction  to  give  a  specific  ritual, 
we  have  no  trace  in  the  new  law ;  and  the  Church,  ever  true  to  the  finest 
principles  of  nature,  after  prescribing  all  that  was  essential  and  necessary 
for  the  sacraments — allowed  the  instinctive  and  rational  feelings  of  man 
to  have  their  play,  watching  carefully  over  their  suggestions,  that  they 
should  not  lead  to  error  or  impropriety,  and  thus  gradually  formed  its 
code  of  religious  and  ceremonial  observances,  as  every  good  constitution 
has  ever  been  formed,  from  the  development  of  sound  fundamental 
principles,  through  the  experimental  knowledge  accumulated  by  ages. 
Was  it  wrong  in  so  doing?  This,  indeed,  is  a  question,  which  my  next 
and  last  discourse  will  better  give  materials  to  solve,  when  I  speak  of  the 
influence  which  the  offices  of  this  week  have  exercised  upon  the  social 
and  moral  world.  But  at  present  I  may  safely  ask,  does  the  parallel  I 
have  just  intirnated  suggest  that  it  was  wrong  ?  Is  not  that  form  of  rule, 
political  and  judicial,  in  our  estimation  most  perfect,  which  among  us  has 
risen  in  most  ancient  times,  and  has  retained  upon  and  within  itself  the 
impressions  and  experiences  of  ages,  different  in  purpose  and  in  spirit  ? 
We  love  to  trace  our  jury  to  the  institutions  of  the  Saxons ;  our  fore- 
fathers for  years  revered  and  demanded  the  laws  of  good  King  Edward. 
We  abolish  not  easily  the  words  and  phrases  introduced  by  the  Normans, 
though  in  a  speech  no  longer  our  own  ;  the  crier  in  our  courts  proclaims 
in  French,  and  the  king  agrees  to,  or  dissents  from,  parliamentary  enact- 
ments in  that  language.  Our  law  of  treason,  one  of  the  most  perfect,  we 
owe  to  the  third  Edward  ;  and  the  rights  of  the  subject  took  all  the  time 
from  John  to  William  III.  to  be  fully  developed.  Every  different  state, 
every  change  in  character,  every  variation  of  feeling,  which  successive 
vicissitudes  produced  in  the  nation,  is  to  be  traced,  as  upon  so  many 
monuments,  in  our  laws,  usages,  and  public  practices.  The  old  oppres- 
sion of  the  forest-laws  no  effort  has  been  able  to  cancel  entirely  from  our 
code  ;  in  spite  of  modern  ridicule,  baronial  rights  and  feudal  practices  yet 
attest  our  former  constitution  under  their  influence ;  the  municipal  char- 
ters of  our  cities  form  progressive  monuments  of  the  development  of 
power,  which  the  burghers  gradually  attained  by  industrious  commerce  ; 
our  guilds  and  companies  yet  record  the  spirit  of  religious  confraternity, 
which  originally  suggested  them  ;  the  universities  have,  almost  in  their 
own    despite,  preserved  the  forms,  institutions,  and   practices  of  their 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  51 

Catholic  founders ;  the  Presbyterian  rigor  of  certain  religious  observ- 
ances is  yet  struggling  with  public  good  sense,  to  deepen  the  morose 
wrinkles  which  it  once  left,  so  as  not  to  be  effaced,  upon  the  frank, 
smooth  brow  of  former  generations.  We  have  thus  our  history,  our 
changes,  our  variable  feelings  throughout  successive  generations,  recorded 
on  our  public  institutions.  Would  any  one  for  a  moment  entertain  the 
idea,  that  the  whole  should,  "  at  one  fell  swoop,"  be  abolished,  and  a  stiff, 
stark,  "  Code-Napoleon  "  system  of  law  be  introduced,  duly  divided  into 
"titles,"  sections,  and  articles,  upon  every  possible  subject,  social  and 
domestic,  from  the  sovereign's  rights  to  the  clerk's  fees  for  a  certificate ; 
all  bearing  the  impress  of  only  one  age's,  or  one  man's  mind  ?  Would  not 
this  be  considered  sacrilegious  ?  Would  it  not  be  abolishing  our  history, 
disowning  our  fathers,  abrogating  our  former  existence,  blotting  out  our 
monuments  and  saying,  like  a  child  whose  fabric  of  cards  has  fallen,  "  I 
will  begin  anew  "  ?  A  similar  train  of  reflections  I  have  wished  to  suggest 
respecting  the  offices  and  functions  of  Holy  Week.  I  have  represented 
these  to  you  as  an  aggregate  of  religious  observances,  gradually  framed 
in  the  Church,  not  by  a  cold  and  formal  enactment,  but  by  the  fervid 
manifestation  of  the  devout  impressions  of  every  age,  till  they  had  ac- 
quired a  uniform,  consistent,  and  compact  form.  They  have  retained 
upon  them  the  marks  of  that  humbled,  and  yet  deeply  mystical  spirit, 
which  the  persecuted  Church  necessarily  possessed  ;  they  have  preserved 
the  expression  of  triumph  and  glory  of  its  more  prosperous  condition  ; 
they  have  concealed  in  them  symptoms  of  the  modesty  and  charity  of 
the  later  period,  and  they  are  depositaries  of  many  relics  of  venerable 
antiquity,  by  yet  keeping  in  observance  rites  once  general,  but  now  else- 
where abolished. 

In  attending  them,  you  may  consider  yourselves  as  led  by  turns  to 
every  period  of  religious  antiquity,  and  in  the  institutions  of  each  may 
commune  with  its  peculiar  spirit ;  they  are  as  a  museum,  containing  the 
remains  of  every  age,  not  arranged  chronologically,  but,  as  the  good  taste 
that  presided  over  the  collections  has  suggested,  their  disposition  mingled 
in  a  happy  confusion,  which  shows  how  well  they  harmonize  with  each 
other,  and  how  completely  the  same  spirit  has  presided  over  the  institu- 
tion of  them  all.  To  abolish  them,  to  substitute  a  new,  systematic, 
formal,  and  coldly  meditated  form,  would  be  in  truth  a  vandalism,  a 
religious  barbarism,  of  which  the  Catholic  Church  is  quite  incapable. 

There  yet  remains  another  view  of  these  offices  and  ceremonies,  more 
interesting  and  more  important  than  any  I  have  yet  treated  of,  and  this 
shall  form  the  subject  of  my  concluding  discourse. 


RELIGIOUS  VIEW  OF  THESE  FUNCTIONS. 

The  influence  of  Holy  Week  upon  public  morals — On  the  conduct  of  princes — 
Pardoning  of  injuries — Their  mildening  influence  during  the  Middle  Ages — 
Their  action  extended  over  the  entire  year — The  Truce  of  God — Influence  of 
the  celebration  of  these  functions  upon  the  interior  life — Devotion  to  the 
Cross — Conclusion. 

ERE  I  to  let  my  subject  remain  where  last  we  left  it,  justly 
might  I  be  charged  with  having  deceived  fair  expectation. 
For,  till  now,  I  have  spoken  of  the  functions  which  on  Palm 
Sunday  will  begin,  as  of  things  beautiful  and  venerable  ;  while 
of  their  holiness  I  have  not  as  yet  spoken.  But  greatly  would  your  con- 
ception of  them  fall  below  their  worth,  and  sadly  should  I  have  failed  in 
discharging  my  duty,  were  you,  on  departing  hence,  for  the  last  time,  to 
consider  them  only  as  objects  wherewith  the  painter's  eye  may  be  en- 
tranced, or  the  musician's  ear  bewitched,  or  the  poet's  and  antiquarian's 
mind  pleased  and  instructed  ;  and  not  rather  as  sacred  institutions  by 
which  the  Christian's  soul  may  be  improved  and  perfected.  For,  after 
all,  it  is  not  to  a  mere  display  of  outward  ceremonial,  framed  never  so  art- 
fully, or  conceived  never  so  sublimely,  that  you  are  summoned,  but  to  as- 
sist at  a  solemn  commemoration  of  your  Redeemer's  most  sorrowful  pas- 
sion and  death.  Whatever  of  beauty  there  may  be  in  the  exterior  forms 
of  this  commemoration,  whatever  pathos  in  its  sounds,  whatever  poetry 
in  its  words,  whatever  feeling  in  its  action,  is  but  owing  to  the  ruling 
thought,  the  spirit  of  devotion  and  piety  which  forms  its  soul,  and  has 
breathed  its  own  influence  through  these  its  manifestations.  Vain,  in- 
deed, and  foolish,  and  ministering  unto  evil,  are  all  such  things,  unless  a 
high  destination  consecrate,  or  at  least  ennoble  them  ;  but  where  shall 
they  find  a  higher  sphere,  or  an  occasion  worthier  of  their  heavenly 
power,  than  in  the  scenes  which  commemorate  the  grandest  and  most 
pathetic  of  all  Christian  mysteries?  When  our  blessed  Saviour  expired, 
ife  would  seem  as  though  divine  power  were  exerted  to  bring  into  har- 
mony with  the  moment  the  appearances  of  nature.  The  sky  was  dark- 
ened, and  the  earth  trembled,  and  rocks  were  rent,  and  sepulchres  opened, 
that  whatever  was  seen  or  heard  might  sympathize  with  the  main  action 
of  the  awful  tragedy.  It  would  have  been  painfully  unnatural,  and  dis- 
cordant, had  the  catastrophe  taken  place  wherein  nature's  Author  suf- 
(53) 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  53 

fered,  amid  the  liquid  splendors  of  a  spring-day's  noon,  while  flowers 
were  opening  at  the  foot,  and  birds  chirping  their  connubial  songs  round 
the  head  of  His  Cross.  And  it  is  in  a  similar  spirit  that  the  Church,  His 
spouse,  observes  annually  the  representation  of  this  heart-rending  sight, 
seeking  to  attune  the  accessories  and  circumstances  thereof  to  the  melan- 
choly and  solemn  depth  of  sentiment  which  it  must  inevitably  infuse. 
Therefore  are  these  days  of  fasting  and  humiliation  ;  for  who  would  feast 
and  riot  when  his  Lord  is  refreshed  only  with  vinegar  and  gall  ?  They 
are  days  bare  of  all  costly  apparel  and  religious  splendor ;  for  who  would 
be  gayly  vested  when  his  Saviour's  seamless  garment  is  cast  for  with  lots  ? 
They  are  days  of  lamentation  and  lugubrious  strains ;  for  who  would 
bear  to  hear  joyful  melodies  in  commemoration  of  sighs  and  groans  ut- 
tered over  sin  ? 

It  is  then  no  more  than  natural  feeling  purified  by  religious  principle, 
which  guided  the  Church  through  succeeding  ages,  in  gradually  framing 
that  commemorative  service  which  will  occupy  Holy  Week.  Art  re- 
ceived its  lessons  from  her  under  this  influence,  and  hence  all  the  circum- 
stances have  been  made  to  accord  with  the  greater  and  solemner  event 
which  they  surround. 

And  after  having  employed  discourses  upon  the  less  important  con- 
siderations, it  may  seem  but  little  proportioned  to  the  relative  value  of 
things,  that,  into  one,  I  should  endeavor  to  compress  whatever  regards 
the  main  purpose  of  them  all.  For  you  have  not  forgotten,  I  trust,  that  I 
reserved  to  this  my  last  discourse,  to  treat  of  the  offices  and  ceremonies 
of  Holy  Week  in  a  religious  point  of  view ;  or,  as  I  explained  myself,  to 
consider  them  "  as  intended  to  excite  virtuous  and  devout  impression." 
This  portion  of  my  task  is  attended  with  many  difficulties.  For,  at  first 
sight,  it  would  appear  rather  to  belong  to  a  more  sacred  place  than  this ; 
it  partakes  of  emotions  which  a  sermon,  rather  than  an  essay,  should  aim 
at  exciting ;  and  the  impropriety  of  assuming  a  tone  unbecoming  the 
place  and  circumstances  of  our  here  assembling,  must  act  as  a  curb  upon 
that  bolder  and  more  appealing  form  of  address  which  would  better  suit 
the  theme.  I  feel,  too,  at  present,  as  though  whatever  I  have  said,  till 
now,  should  in  some  sort  prejudice  me  in  what  remains.  For,  if  my 
former  discourses  have  made  any  impression,  they  will  have  prepared 
your  mind  for  watching  the  beautiful  combination  of  art  and  feeling 
which  I  have  striven  to  show  you  in  these  ceremonials ;  and  it  is  hard  for 
the  eye  to  be  keen  in  examination,  and  the  heart,  at  the  same  time, 
tender  to  emotion.  I  fear  me,  therefore,  that,  the  two  appearing  incom- 
patible, the  one  may  be  preferred,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  better.  And, 
in  fact,  it  is  not  once  or  twice  attending  such  functions,  that  can  allow 
the  mind  simultaneously  to  act  through  the  various  organs  of  perception 


54  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

here  called  into  play,  so  as  to  admit  a  general  result  from  their  combina- 
tion. It  is  only  when,  after  a  time,  it  hath  been  familiarized  with  the 
outward  appearance,  till,  novelty  being  worn  out,  it  seems  to  our  minds 
the  most  obvious  and  natural  form  it  can  assume,  that  leisure  is  left  for 
meditation,  amid  the  paintings,  the  music,  and  the  ceremonial  of  these 
offices.  And  meditation  is  the  only  means  through  which  the  religious 
feelings  to  them  belonging  can  be  properly  reached. 

I  shall,  therefore,  perhaps,  require  a  greater  share  of  your  indulgence 
when  I  appear  to  come  up  even  less  than  in  any  preceding  discourses  to 
the  greatness  of  my  subject.  I  have  already  expressed  my  view,  when 
I  proposed  to  treat  of  our  coming  solemnities,  as  intended  to  convey 
virtuous  and  devout  impressions. 

These  two  epithets  must  not  be  considered  as  inadvertently  placed  ; 
for  they  represent  two  divisions  of  my  subject,  and  consequently  of  my 
discourse.  I  consider  the  one  as  expressive  of  the  external,  and  the 
other  of  the  internal,  influence  of  these  institutions.  Virtue  is,  indeed, 
an  inward  principle,  but  strongly  regulates  our  relations  with  others ;  de- 
votion is  a  feeling  of  whose  extent  and  intenseness  God  and  our  own 
souls  can  alone  be  conscious.  Virtuous  conduct  may  be  noticed  in  com- 
munities or  masses  of  men  ;  while  devotion  is  properly  an  individual  pos- 
session. I  will  endeavor  to  show  how  both  have  been,  and  may  be, 
nourished  by  the  solemn  and  detailed  commemoration  of  Holy  Week. 

Who  shall  gainsay,  that  men  are  powerfully  acted  on  by  formal  and 
external  acts  that  represent  inward  feelings,  although  even  the  latter  be 
not  excited  ?  In  times  of  bloody,  and  often  causeless  strife,  who  knows 
not  that  homage  and  fealty,  solemnly  given,  bound  men  often  to  loyalty 
and  liege  bearing,  more  almost  than  principle  ?  It  was  not  perhaps,  some- 
times, that  the  proud  baron,  or  the  monarch,  who  held  a  fief,  felt  much 
the  religious  obligation  of  an  oath ;  it  was  not  that  they  feared  punish- 
ment for  its  violation,  but  there  was  a  solemn  force  in  the  very  act  of 
homage,  in  the  placing  of  hand  within  hand,  and  plighting  faith  upon 
the  bended  knee,  and  with  the  attendance  of  a  court. 

Far  more  worth  than  all  this  circumstance,  would  have  been  a  stronger 
inward  conviction  of  obligation  ;  but  such  is  man,  that  the  determina- 
tions of  his  fickle  heart  require  some  outward  steadying  by  formal  decla- 
rations. Who  knows  not  how  much  the  coronation  ceremony  has  done 
for  fastening  the  crown  upon  the  heads  of  kings;  how  the  pretender  to 
a  nation  hath  fought  bloody  battles  to  have  it  done  on  him  in  the  proper 
place  ;  and  how  maidens  have  fought  with  knightly  prowess,  that  the 
rightful  owner  should,  in  his  turn,  receive  it  ?  And  has  not  the  wavering 
fidelity  of  subjects  been  secured  by  the  fear  of  raising  a  hand  against 
God's  anointed  ?    And  in  all  this,  which  is  not  of  divine  or  Scriptural  in- 


,   CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  55 

stitution,  who  sees  anything  less  than  wholesome,  as  conducing  to  the 
strengthening  of  sentiments  in  themselves  virtuous  and  publicly  useful  ? 

In  some  respects  similar  is  the  institution  of  a  season  set  apart  for 
outwardly  exhibiting  those  feelings,  which  should  ever  animate  the 
Christian  soul  toward  his  crucified  Redeemer.  It  must  be  greatly  con- 
ducive to  public  virtue,  to  appoint  a  time  when  all  men,  even  the  wicked, 
must  humble  themselves,  and  act  virtue.  It  is  a  homage  to  the  moral 
power,  an  acknowledgment,  at  least,  of  its  right  to  rule ;  a  recognition  of 
a  public  voice  in  virtue,  which  can  stand  on  the  highway,  and  command 
even  her  enemies  to  obey  her  laws.  It  is,  moreover,  a  compulsion  to 
thought:  many  a  virtuous  life  hath  been  led  in  earnest,  whose  beginning 
had  been  in  mockery  and  scorn.  You  have  always  gained  much  upon  the 
soul,  when  you  have  brought  the  behavior  to  what  becomes  it.  Now, 
all  this  hath  the  setting  aside  one  week  to  the  commemoration  of  Christ's 
passion  effected ;  because  being  not  merely  proposed  to  the  mind,  but 
represented  in  such  a  way  as  to  oblige  men  to  attend,  with  certain  pro- 
prieties of  deportment,  and  acting  moreover  on  the  public  feelings  of 
society,  it  produces  a  restraint  and  a  tone  of  conduct  which  must  prove 
beneficial.     But  examples  will  illustrate  this  better  than  words. 

St.  Bernard  clearly  intimates,  that  the  most  abandoned,  and  even 
those  who  had  no  idea  of  an  effectual  reform,  were  yet  compelled,  by 
public  decency,  to  abstain  from  vice  during  the  entire  Lent,  and  more 
especially  during  the  concluding  season.  "  The  lovers  of  the  world,"  he 
exclaims,  in  his  second  sermon  on  the  Resurrection,  "  the  enemies  of  the 
Cross  of  Christ,  through  this  time  of  Lent,  long  after  Easter,  that  they, 

alas !  may  indulge  in  pleasure Wretches !  thus  honor  ye  Christ 

whom  ye  have  received  ?  Ye  have  prepared  a  dwelling  for  Him  at  His 
coming,  confessing  your  sins  with  groans,  chastening  your  bodies  and 
giving  alms,  and,  behold,  ye  traitorously  betray  Him,  or  force  Him  to  go 
out  by  readmitting  your  former  wickedness.  Now,  should  Easter  require 
less  reverence  than  Passion-tide  ?  But  it  is  plain  that  ye  honor  neither. 
For  if  ye  suffered  with  Him,  ye  could  reign  with  Him ;  if  with  Him  ye 
died,  with  Him  ye  would  rise  again.  But  now,  only,  from  the  custom  of 
this  time,  and  from  a  certain  simulation,  hath  that  humiliation  proceeded, 
which  spiritual  exultation  foUoweth  not."  He  then  exhorts  all  to  perse- 
verance in  the  course  of  virtue  which  they  had  assumed.  But  it  is  evi- 
dent, from  these  words,  that  the  scandal  of  vice  was  arrested  by  the 
public  solemnization  of  this  time. 

It  has  been  the  custom,  too,  during  these  days,  consecrated  by  the 
remembrance  of  Christ's  passion,  for  sovereigns  to  lay  aside  their  state, 
and  proclaim,  before  their  subjects,  the  equality  of  all  men  when  viewed 
upon  Mount  Calvary.     When   the    Emperor  Heraclius  recovered  from 


56  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

King  Chosroes  the  relics  of  Golgotha,  and  bore  them  himself  in  triumph 
to  the  Holy  City,  old  historians  tell  us  how,  arrived  at  the  gate,  he  found 
himself,  of  a  sudden,  unable  to  proceed.  Then  the  patriarch,  Zachary, 
who  was  beside  him,  spoke  to  him,  saying,  "  You  are  bearing  the  Cross  shod 
and  crowned,  and  clad  in  costly  robes ;  but  He  who  bore  it  here  before 
you,  was  barefoot,  crowned  with  thorns,  and  meanly  attired."  Upon 
hearing  which  words,  the  emperor  cast  aside  his  shoes  and  crown,  and  all 
other  regal  state,  and  entered  the  city  to  the  church. 

The  spirit  of  this  reproof  was  fully  felt  in  later  times  through  every 
Christian  country.  In  many,  no  one  is  allowed  to  go  in  a  carriage  during 
the  last  days  of  Holy  Week ;  at  Naples  this  is  yet  observed,  and  the  king 
and  royal  family,  for  that  time,  are  reduced,  as  to  outward  pomp,  to  the 
level  of  their  subjects.  "  Now,"  says  a  modern  German  author,  speaking 
of  Lent,  "  the  songs  of  joy  gave  place  to  the  seven  penitential  psalms ; 
the  plentiful  board  was  exchanged  for  strict  temperance,  and  the  super- 
fluity given  to  the  poor.  Instead  of  the  music  of  the  bower  and  hall, 
the  chant  of  '  Miserere '  was  heard,  with  the  eloquent  warnings  of  the 
preacher.  Forty  days'  fast  overcame  the  people's  lust :  kings,  princes, 
and  lords  were  humbled  with  their  domestics,  and  dressed  in  black  instead 
of  their  gorgeous  habits.  In  Holy  Week,  the  mourning,  was  still  more 
strongly  expressed ;  the  church  became  more  solemn ;  the  fast  stricter ; 
no  altar  was  decorated ;  no  bell  sounded,  and  no  pompous  equipage 
rolled  in  the  streets.  Princes  and  vassals,  rich  and  pooi>  went  on  foot,  in 
habits  of  deep  mourning.  On  Palm  Sunday,  after  reading  out  of  the  his- 
tory of  Christ,  every  one  bore  his  palm,  and  nothing  else  was  heard  but 
the  suiTerings  of  the  Messiah.  After  receiving  the  blessed  sacrament  on 
Maundy-Thursday,  bishops,  priests,  kings,  and  princes  proceeded  to 
wash  the  feet  of  the  poor,  and  to  serve  them  at  table." 

In  the  life  of  that  most  amiable  and  holy  princess,  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary,  we  have  the  following  account  of  her  practices  during  these 
days:  "  Nothing  can  express  the  fervor,  love,  and  pious  veneration,  with 
which  she  celebrated  those  holy  days,  on  which  the  Church,  by  ceremonies 
so  touching  and  so  expressive,  recalls  to  the  mind  of  the  faithful,  the 
sorrowful  and  unspeakable  mystery  of  our  redemption.  On  Holy  Thurs- 
day, imitating  the  King  of  kings,  who,  on  this  day,  rising  from  table, 
laid  aside  His  garments,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Hungary,  putting  off 
whatever  could  remind  her  of  worldly  pomps,  dressed  herself  in  poor 
clothes,  and,  with  only  sandals  on  her  feet,  went  to  visit  different 
churches.  On  this  day,  she  washed  the  feet  of  twelve  poor  men,  some- 
times lepers,  and  gave  to  each  twelve  pieces,  a  white  dress,  and  a  loaf. 

"All  the  next  night  she  passed  in  prayer  and  meditation  upon  our 
Lord's  passion.     In  the  morning,  it  being  the  day  on  which  the  divine 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  67 

sacrifice  was  accomplished,  she  said  to  her  attendants,  '  This  day  is  a  day 
of  humiliation  for  all ;  I  desire  that  none  of  you  do  show  me  any  mark 
of  respect.'  Then  she  would  put  on  the  same  dress  as  before,  and  go 
barefoot  to  the  churches,  taking  with  her  certain  little  packets  of  linen, 
incense,  and  small  tapers ;  and,  kneeling  before  one  altar,  would  place 
thereon  of  these ;  |nd,  prostrating  herself,  would  pray  awhile  most 
devoutly,  and  so  pass  to  another  altar,  till  she  had  visited  all.  At  the 
door  of  the  church  she  gave  large  alms,  but  was  pushed  about  by  the 
crowd,  who  did  not  know  her.  Some  courtiers  reproached  her  for  the 
meanness  of  her  gifts,  as  unworthy  of  a  sovereign.  But  though,  at  other 
times,  her  alms-deeds  were  most  abundant,  so  that  few  ever  were  more 
splendidly  liberal  to  the  poor,  yet  a  certain  divine  instinct  in  her  heart 
taught  her,  how,  in  such  days,  she  should  not  play  the  queen,  but  the 
poor  sinner  for  whom  Christ  died." 

Every  one  will  feel  what  influence  such  annual  seasons  of  humiliation 
in  sovereigns  must  have  exercised  on  the  formation  of  their  own  hearts, 
and,  through  them,  on  the  happiness  of  their  subjects.  But  no  one 
either,  I  believe,  will  fail  to  notice  the  connection  established,  by  the 
biographer,  between  the  touching  ceremonies  of  these  days  and  the  con- 
duct of  this  princess,  as  of  many  others.  Had  there  been  no  special  com- 
memoration, day  by  day,  and  almost  hour  by  hour,  of  our  Saviour's 
actions  and  sufferings ;  had  there  not  been  services  which  especially 
separated  them  from  all  other  days,  for  this  solemn  occupation ;  and 
had  they  not  been  such  as  to  bring  the  feelings  of  men  into  harmony 
with  the  occasion,  certes  such  instances  of  royal  abasement  never  would 
have  been  witnessed.  Nor  is  this  thought  and  practice  far  from  your 
own  age  and  place ;  if,  on  the  evenings  of  Wednesday  and  Thursday, 
you  will  visit  the  hospital  of  the  pilgrims,  you  will  see  the  noblest  of 
Rome,  cardinals,  bishops,  and  princes,  performing  the  lowliest  works  of 
hospitable  charity  on  the  poor  strangers  who  have  arrived  from  afar. 
Washing  and  medicating  their  galled  feet,  and  serving  them  at  table ; 
while  dames,  of  highest  degree,  are  similarly  ministering  to  the  poor  of 
their  own  sex.  And  here  you  will  see,  I  promise  you,  no  coldness,  or 
precise  formality,  as  though  it  were  an  unwilling  duty ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, an  alacrity  and  cheerfulness,  a  familiarity  and  kindness,  which 
prove  it  to  be  a  deed  of  charity  done  for  Christ's  sake,  and  in  example  of 
the  humble  and  suffering  state  to  which  He  reduced  Himself  for  us.  And 
the  relation  between  this  uninterrupted  continuation  of  old  charitable 
hospitality,  and  the  similar  action  of  our  Saviour,  commemorated  in  the 
Church  ceremonial,  will  sufficiently  prove  the  influence  which  this  has  in 
keeping  up  an  exercise  so  accordant  with  His  precept. 

But  the  effects  of  these  solemnities  were  more  conspicuously  useful, 


58  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

inasmuch  as  they  suggested  an  imitation  not  only  of  our  Saviour's 
abasement,  but  still  more  of  His  charity.  I  will  not  detain  you  to 
quote  the  authorities  of  eminent  writers,  to  show  how  Holy  Week 
was  ever  distinguished  by  more  abundant  alms  and  works  of  charitable 
actions.  I  will  content  myself  with  instances  of  the  influence  it  had  in 
one  rarer  and  more  sovereign  exercise  of  this  virtue.  There  is  a  well- 
known  anecdote  of  a  young  prince,  who,  being  yet  m  tutelage,  besought 
in  vain  of  his  council  the  liberation  of  a  prisoner ;  wherefore,  going  into 
his  room,  he,  with  an  amiable  peevishness,  opened  wide  the  cage  of 
certain  singing-birds,  which  he  kept  for  his  pastime,  saying,  "  If  I  cannot 
free  any  other  prisoner,  no  one  can  prevent  my  freeing  you."  With  a 
better  spirit,  but  with  an  innocence  of  thought  no  less  amiable,  it  seemed 
a  rule  to  expiate  the  crime  of  Pilate  and  the  Jews,  in  unjustly  condemn- 
ing our  Lord,  by  freeing  captives  on  those  days  from  their  bonds ;  and 
in  this  manner  did  it  rightly  seem  to  Christian  souls  that  the  liberation 
of  man  from  eternal  captivity  was  most  suitably  commemorated. 

This  practice  began  with  the  earliest  emperors.  "  Not  only  we,"  safys 
St.  Chrysostom,  in  his  excellent  homily  on  Good  Friday,  "not  only  we 
honor  this  great  week,  but  the  emperor,  likewise,  of  the  entire  world. 
Nor  do  they  do  it  slightly  and  formally,  but  they  grant  vacation  to  all 
magistrates,  that,  free  from  cares,  they  may  employ  these  days  in  spiritual 
worship  ; — let  all  strife  and  contention,  they  say,  now  cease ; — as  the 
goods  which  the  Lord  purchased  belong  to  all,  let  us,  His  servants,  strive 
to  do  some  good  also.  Nor  by  this  only  do  they  honor  the  time,  but 
in  another  way  also ;  and  that  no  less  excellent.  Imperial  letters  are 
sent  forth,  enacting  that  the  prisoners'  chains  be  loosed ;  that,  as  our 
Lord,  descending  into  hell,  freed  all  there  detained  from  death,  so  His 
servants,  imitating  as  much  as  may  be  their  Master's  clemency,  may  free 
men  from  sensible  bands,  whom  they  cannot  free  from  spiritual." 

The  imperial  law  encouraged,  likewise,  private  individuals  to  imitate, 
as  far  as  possible,  this  practice  of  sovereign  clemency.  For  Theodosius 
prescribed  that,  while  every  other  judicial  act  should  cease  during  Holy 
and  Easter  Week,  an  exception  should  be  made  in  favor  of  all  such  acts 
as  were  necessary  for  the  emancipation  of  slaves.  St.  Gregory  of  Nyssa 
mentions  this  practice  of  manumission  to  have  been  a  frequent  manner 
of  honoring  the  season  commemorative  of  our  Lord's  death  and  resur- 
rection. At  a  late  period  St.  EHgius,  the  friend  of  Dagobert,  says  in 
a  homily  on  Maundy-Thursday :  "  Malefactors  are  pardoned,  and  the 
prison  gates  are  thrown  open  throughout  the  world."  Later,  the  kings 
of  France  used  to  pardon,  on  Good  Friday,  one  prisoner  convicted  of 
some  crime  otherwise  unpardonable ;  and  the  clergy  of  Notre  Dame,  on 
Palm  Sunday,  used  to  liberate  another  from  the  prison  of  the  Petit- 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  59 

Chatelet.  Howard  informs  us  that,  "in  Navarre,  the  viceroy  and  magis- 
trates used  to  repair  twice  a  year  to  the  prisons,  at  Christmas  and  eight 
days  before  Easter,  and  released  as  many  prisoners  as  they  pleased.  In 
1783,  they  released  thirteen  at  Easter;  and  some  years  before  they  re- 
leased all."  This  shows  that  the  indulgence  was  not  injudiciously 
granted,  but  after  a  proper  investigation. 

But  still  more  useful  was  the  influence  of  mercy,  in  accordance  with 
the  lessons  of  this  time,  and  the  example  of  our  Saviour,  when  it  served 
to  temper  personal  and  deadly  hatred,  such  as  feudal  strife  was  too  apt 
to  engender.  When  Roger  de  Breteuil  had  been  condemned  to  perpetual 
imprisonment,  for  conspiracy  against  William  the  Conqueror,  the  his- 
torian tells  us,  that  when  the  people  of  God  were  preparing  to  celebrate 
the  festival  of  Easter,  William  sent  to  him  in  prison  a  costly  suit  with 
precious  furs.  And,  again,  when  Duke  Robert  was  besieging  closely  a 
castle  wherein  his  enemy,  Balalard,  had  taken  refuge,  it  happened  that 
Balalard's  clothes  were  much  worn ;  whereupon  he  besought  the  duke's 
son  to  supply  him  with  all  that  was  necessary  becomingly  to  celebrate 
Easter ;  so  the  young  nobleman  spoke  to  his  father,  who  ordered  him  to 
be  provided  with  new  and  fair  apparel. 

When  an  ancient  writer,  speaking  of  the  enormous  crimes  of  Gilles 
Baignart,  tells  us  that  he  could  not  have  obtained  pardon,  "  not  even  on 
Good  Friday,"  methinks  such  an  expression  speaks  more  powerfully  than 
a  volume  of  instances,  on  the  pleading  for  mercy,  which  the  solemnity 
of  that  day  was  supposed  to  make.  It  seems  to  say,  that  a  man's  evil 
deeds  must  have  been  almost  fiendish,  for  pardon  to  have  been  refused 
when  asked  on  that  day.  What  a  beautiful  commentary  on  the  ex- 
pression does  the  history  of  St.  John  Gualbert  make.  His  only  brother, 
Hugo,  had  been  slain  by  one  whom  the  laws  could  not  reach.  John 
was  young  and  passionate,  and  his  father  urged  him  to  avenge  the 
murder,  and  wipe  off  the  disgrace  of  his  family.  It  was  in  the  eleventh 
century,  when  such  feuds  between  noble  families  were  not  easily  quenched  : 
and  he  determined  to  do  the  work  of  vengeance  to  the  utmost.  It 
so  happened  that,  on  Good  Friday,  he  was  riding  home  to  Flor- 
ence, accompanied  by  an  esquire,  when,  in  a  narrow  part  of  the  road, 
he  met  his  adversary  alone,  so  that  escape  was  impossible.  John 
drew  his  sword,  and  was  about  to  dispatch  his  unprepared  foe,  when 
he,  casting  himself  on  his  knees,  bade  him  remember  that,  on  that  day, 
Jesus  Christ  died  for  sinners,  and  besought  him  to  save  his  life  for  His 
dear  sake.  This  plea  was  irresistible.  To  have  spilt  blood  on  such 
a  day,  or  to  have  refused  forgiveness,  would  have  been  a  sacrilege ;  and 
the  young  nobleman  not  only  pardoned  his  bitter  enemy,  but,  after 
the    example  of   Christ,  who   received  a  kiss   from    Judas,  raised   him 


60  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

from  the  ground  and  embraced  him.  And  from  that  happy  day  began 
his  saintly  life. 

All  this  was  in  conformity  with  what  the  Church,  in  the  office  of  that 
day,  inculcates  by  example.  For,  whereas,  it  is  not  usual  publicly  to 
pray,  in  her  exercises,  for  those  who  live  not  visibly  in  her  pale  (although 
she  encourages  her  children  at  all  times  to  make  instant  supplication  for 
them),  on  that  day  she  separately  and  distinctly  prays  for  them,  not  ex- 
cluding any  order,  even  of  such  as  treat  her  like  an  enemy ;  but  striving 
to  make  her  zeal  and  love  as  boundless  as  her  Master's  charity.  Nothing, 
surely,  but  the  inculcation  of  this  feeling,  or  rather  the  making  it  the 
very  spirit  of  that  day's  solemnity,  could  have  given  it  such  a  might  in 
gaining  mercy.  Hear,  again,  how  wonderfully  the  precept  of  receiving 
the  holy  communion,  at  this  same  season,  worked  effects  of  charity. 
When  the  good  king,  Robert  of  France,  was  about  to  celebrate  Easter  at 
Compi^gne,  twelve  noblemen  were  attached  of  treason,  for  designing  to 
assassinate  him.  Having  interrogated  them,  he  ordered  them  to  be  con- 
fined in  a  house  and  royally  fed ;  and,  on  the  holiday  of  the  resurrection, 
strengthened  with  the  holy  sacrament.  Next  day,  being  tried,  they  were 
condemned  ;  but  the  pious  king  dismissed  them,  as  his  historian  says,  on 
account  of  the  benign  Jesus. 

Surely,  when  such  effects  as  these  were  produced,  by  the  observance 
of  a  holy  season  thus  set  aside  for  the  commemoration  of  Christ's  sacred 
passion  and  resurrection,  no  one  will  deny  that  this  must  be  a  most  wise 
institution,  as  a  cause  and  instrument  of  great  public  virtue.  And  the 
power,  which  it  had  and  hath,  must  not  be  disjoined  from  the  exact 
forms  which  it  then,  as  now,  observed.  For,  manifestly,  these  days 
would  never  have  received  consecration  in  the  minds  of  men,  nor  have 
been  thought  endowed  with  a  peculiar  grace,  if  nothing  had  been  acted 
on  them  that  distinguished  them  from  other  times.  In  countries,  where 
no  mark  seals  them  with  a  blessed  application,  they  slip  over  like  other 
days.  Good  Friday  alone  detains,  for  a  brief  hour,  the  attention  of  men 
to  the  recital  of  our  Redeemer's  dolorous  passion ;  but  how  faint  must 
be  the  impression  thus  produced,  compared  with  that  of  a  sorrowful  cer- 
emonial, which,  step  by  step,  leads  you  through  the  history  of  this  painful 
event,  pausing,  as  if  to  look  upon  each  distinct  act  of  graciousness,  and  to 
commemorate  each  expression  of  love,  and  to  study  every  lesson  of  virtue ! 
And,  indeed,  how  powerful  this  influence  was,  the  effects  I  have  described 
must  show. 

Nor  must  it  be  thought  for  a  moment,  that  they  resulted  rather  from 
custom  than  from  feeling ;  as  though  kings  and  princes  were  not  likely 
to  assist  with  much  earnestness  at  these  ceremonies,  but  rather  left 
them  to  be  performed  by  priests  in  their  churches  or  chantries.     On  the 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  61 

contrary,  they  would  have  greatly  shocked  their  subjects  had  they  neg- 
lected due  and  respectful  attention  to  these  ecclesiastical  offices.  When 
the  pious  emperor,  Henry  II.,  was  returning  from  Rome,  where  he  had 
been  crowned,  he  stayed  his  journey  at  Pavia,  that  he  might  celebrate 
Easter ;  and  so  our  own  and  foreign  chronicles  often  record  the  place 
where  the  holydays  were  passed.  Rymer  has  preserved  a  writ  of  Edward 
III.,  commanding  the  ornaments  of  his  chapel  to  be  sent  to  Calais,  where 
he  meant  to  keep  the  festival.  Abbot  Suger  has  given  us  a  minute 
account  of  the  magnificent  way  in  which  the  kings  of  France  used  to 
observe  the  sacred  time  in  the  Roman  style,  as  he  expresses  it.  On 
Wednesday,  the  king  proceeded  to  St.  Denis,  met  by  a  solemn  procession. 
There  he  spent  Thursday  (on  which  the  ceremonies  were  performed  with 
great  magnificence),  and  all  Friday.  The  night  of  Easter  eve  he  passed 
in  church ;  and,  after  privately  communicating  in  the  morning,  went  in 
splendid  state  to  celebrate  the  Easter  festivity. 

It  may  be,  perhaps,  objected,  that  the  impression  thus  made  by  a  few 
days  of  devotion  and  recollection,  must  have  been  very  transient,  and 
can  have  produced  no  permanent  effects.  This,  however,  was  far  from 
being  the  case.  For  the  Church,  with  a  holy  ingenuity,  was  able  to  pro- 
long the  sacred  character  of  these  days  throughout  the  year;  and  to 
make  the  lessons  we  have  seen  taught  by  them  enduring  and  continued. 
Every  one,  I  presume,  is  aware  that  Sunday  is  but  a  weekly  repetition, 
through  the  year,  of  Easter  day ;  for  the  Apostles  transferred  the  sab- 
batical rest  from  the  last  to  the  first  day  of  the  week  to  commemorate 
our  Lord's  resurrection.  Now,  a  similar  spirit  consecrated,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  Church,  the  sixth  day  of  every  week  as  a  day  of  humil- 
iation, in  continued  remembrance  of  the  day  whereon  He  was  crucified. 

From  the  beginning,  Friday  was  kept  as  a  fast,  and  that  of  so  strict 
observance,  that  the  blessed  martyr,  Fructuosus,  bishop  of  Tarracona,  in 
Spain,  when  led  to  execution,  in  259,  though  standing  much  in  need  of 
refreshment,  refused  to  drink,  it  being  Friday,  and  about  ten  of  the 
clock.  The  motives  for  this  fast,  as  well  as  of  that  on  Saturdays,  the 
remains  of  which  yet  exist  in  the  observance  of  these  two  days  as  days 
of  abstinence,  is  clearly  stated  to  be  what  I  have  described  it,  by  Pope 
Innocent  I.,  about  the  year  402.  For,  writing  to  Decentius,  he  says : 
"  On  Friday  we  fast  on  account  of  our  Lord's  passion.  Saturday  ought 
not  to  be  passed  over,  because  it  is  included  between  the  sorrow  and  the  joy 
of  that  season.  This  form  of  fasting  must  be  observed  every  week, 
because  the  commemoration  of  that  day  is  ever  to  be  observed."  Julius 
Pollux,  in  his  chronicle,  says  of  Constantine :  "  He  ordered  Friday  and 
Sunday  to  be  honored  ;  that  on  account  of  the  Cross  (or  crucifixion)  of 
Christ,  and  this  for  His  resurrection." 


62  DISCOURSES'  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

In  after  ages,  this  custom  was  rigidly  observed,  as  a  learned  and  pious 
living  author  has  proved  by  examples.  In  an  old  French  poem  upon  the 
Order  of  Chivalry,  Hue  de  Tabarie  informs  Saladin  of  the  four  things 
which  a  true  knight  should  observe  ;  one  is  abstinence  or  temperance. 
He  then  says  :  "  And  to  tell  you  the  truth,  he  should,  on  every  Friday, 
fast,  in  holy  remembrance,  that,  on  that  day,  Jesus  Christ,  with  a  lance, 
for  our  redemption  was  pierced  ;  throughout  his  life,  on  that  day,  he 
must  fast  for  our  Lord."  It  is  recorded,  in  old  memoirs  of  theMareschal 
de  Boucicaut,  that  he  held  Friday  in  great  reverence,  would  eat  nothing 
on  it  which  had  possessed  life,  and  dressed  in  black  to  commemorate  our 
Saviour's  passion.  And  hence,  on  the  other  hand,  the  people  of  his  time 
held  it  for  one  of  Robert  le  Diable's  worst  characteristics,  that  he 
neglected  that  day's  fast. 

This  powerful  association  of  one  day  in  the  week,  with  the  lessons  of 
meekness  and  forgiveness  which  we  have  seen  its  prototype  inculcates, 
and  this  one  day  observed  with  humble  devotion,  in  honor  of  man's 
redemption,  must  have  kept  alive  a  truly  Christian  spirit,  or  at  least  have 
acted  as  a  check,  salutary  and  powerful,  upon  the  course,  otherwise 
unrestrained,  of  passion.  The  feeling  which  inspired  this  dedication  is 
not  yet  extinct.  Here,  in  particular,  all  public  amusements  are  prohibited 
on  the  Friday,  as  inconsistent  with  the  mystery  which  it  still  commemo- 
rates. In  England,  it  has  lingered  in  the  form  of  a  popular  superstition, 
deeply  rooted  and  widely  extended,  that  no  new  undertaking  should  be 
commenced  on  that  day. 

But  this  perpetuation,  throughout  the  year,  of  the  feelings  which  the 
last  days  of  Holy  Week  are  intended  to  inspire,  is  much  better  and  more 
effectually  to  be  acknowledged  in  another  institution  of  past  ages.  The 
feudal  system,  however  beautiful  in  many  of  its  principles,  was  a  constant 
seed-bed  of  animosities  and  wars.  Each  petty  chief  arrogated  to  himself 
the  rights  of  sovereignty ;  and  all  those  passions  which  disturb  great 
monarchs,  revenge,  ambition,  jealousy,  and  restlessness,  were  multiplied 
in  innumerable  smaller  spheres,  which  occasioned  more  real  suffering  to 
those  exposed  to  their  influence  than  the  commotions  of  larger  govern- 
ments could  have  caused.  The  Church,  the  only  authority  which, 
unarmed,  could  throw  itself  between  two  foes,  and  act  as  a  mediating 
power,  essayed  in  every  possible  way  to  bring  a  love  of  peace  home  to 
men's  hearts.  But  they  were  men  ever  cased  in  steel,  on  whom  lessons 
of  general  principles  had  but  little  power.  Unable  to  cut  up  the  evil  by 
the  roots,  it  turned  its  care  to  the  rendering  it  less  hurtful,  and  devised 
expedients  for  lessening  the  horrors  and  abridging  the  calamities  of  feudal 
war.  For  this  purpose,  it  seized  upon  those  religious  feelings  which  I 
have  already  shown  to  have  resulted  from  the  celebration  of  Christ's  pas- 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  63 

sion  during  Holy  Week  ;  and  the  success  was  so  marked,  that  the  pious 
age  in  which  the  experiment  Weis  made,  hesitated  not  to  attribute  it  to 
the  interposition  of  Heaven. 

About  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  as  a  contemporary  writer 
informs  us,  a  covenant,  founded  upon  the  love,  as  well  as  the  fear,  of  God, 
was  established  in  Aquitaine,  and  thence  gradually  spread  over  all  France. 
It  was  of  this  tenor:  that,  from  the  vespers  of  Wednesday  until  Monday 
at  daybreak,  no  one  shall  presume  to  take  aught  from  any  man  by 
violence,  or  to  avenge  himself  of  his  adversary,  or  to  come  down  upon  a 
surety  for  his  engagements.  Whosoever  should  infringe  this  public  decree 
must  either  compound  for  his  life,  or,  being  excommunicate,  be  banished 
the  country.  In  this  also  did  all  agree,  that  this  compact  should  bear  the 
name  of  the  "  Truce  of  God."  There  could  be  no  doubt  regarding  the 
principle  of  this  important  regulation,  if  its  original  founders  had  left  us 
in  the  dark.  The  time  pronounced  sacred,  and  during  which  war  could 
not  be  carried  on,  is  precisely  that  which  the  Church  occupies  in  Holy 
Week  in  the  celebration  of  Christ's  passion.  That  the  ground  of  this 
consecration  was  this  passion  has  been  clearly  recorded  ;  but  it  is  plain, 
that  the  limits  thus  assigned  were  not  drawn  from  the  actual  time  during 
which  our  Saviour  suffered,  seeing  that  He  began  His  pains  on  Olivet  only 
in  the  evening  of  Thursday,  but  rather  from  the  ecclesiastical  period  of 
celebration,  which  is  from  the  Wednesday  afternoon  at  Tenebrae  till 
Monday  following.  Not  aware  of  this,  several  modern  authors  have 
fallen  into  the  mistake  of  shortening  by  one  day  this  Truce  of  God, 
asserting  it  to  have  begun  on  Thursday  evening. 

See,  then,  how  the  Church  extended  to  the  whole  year  the  virtuous 
effects  produced,  for  the  welfare  of  men,  by  the  offices  of  Holy  Week, 
and  turned  the  reverence  which  they  excited  to  good  and  durable  account 
in  promoting  public  happiness.  What  a  beneficial  influence  too  !  For 
all  men  could  now  reckon,  in  each  week,  upon  four  days'  security  and 
peace.  They  could  travel  abroad,  or  attend  to  their  domestic  affairs, 
without  danger  of  molestation,  shielded  by  the  religious  sanction  of  this 
sacred  convention.  The  ravages  of  war  were  restrained  to  three  days  ; 
there  was  leisure  for  passion  to  cool,  and  for  the  mind  to  sicken  at  a  lan- 
guishing warfare,  and  long  for  home. 

Nor  must  it  be  thought  that  this  law  remained  a  dead  letter.  The 
author  to  whom  I  have  referred  proceeds  to  say,  that  many  who  refused 
to  observe  it  were  soon  punished  either  by  Divine  judgments,  or  by  the 
sword  of  man.  "  And  this,"  he  adds,  "  most  justly ;  for  as  Sunday  is 
considered  venerable  on  account  of  our  Lord's  resurrection,  so  ought 
Thursday,  Friday,  and  Saturday,  through  reverence  of  His  Last  Supper 
and  Passion,  to  be  kept  free  of  all  wicked  actions."     Then  he  proceeds  to 


64  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

detail  one  or  two  striking  instances,  as  they  were  considered,  of  Divine 
vengeance  upon  transgressors.  William  the  Conqueror  acceded  to  this 
holy  truce,  approved  by  a  council  of  his  bishops  and  barons  held  at  Lille- 
bonne,  in  1080.  Count  Raymond  published  it  at  Barcelona,  and  succes- 
sive popes,  as  Urban  II.,  in  the  celebrated  synod  of  Clermont,  Paschal 
II.,  in  that  of  Rome,  and  particularly  Innocent  II.  and  Alexander  III.,  in 
the  first  and  second  Lateran  councils,  sanctioned  and  enforced  it. 

This  is  a  strong  and  incontrovertible  example  of  the  happy  influence 
which  the  celebration  of  these  coming  solemnities  has  exerted  upon  the 
general  happiness,  and  the  share  they  have  had  in  humanizing  men,  and 
rendering  their  actions  conformable  to  the  feelings  and  precepts  of  the 
gospel.  For  let  me  remark  to  you,  that  in  none  of  the  examples  I  have 
brought  can  it  be  said,  that  the  vulgar  solution  of  such  phenomena  will 
hold  good  ;  that  a  superstitious  awe,  or  fanatical  reverence  of  outward 
forms,  was  the  active  cause.  In  not  one  case  will  it  be  possible  to  show 
that  the  conduct  has  been  devoid  of  a  feeling  which  all  must  pronounce 
virtuous  and  holy ;  or  rather  that  it  hcis  not  sprung,  as  a  natural  result, 
from  the  inward  sentiment  which  these  sacred  observances  had  inspired. 
Nay,  I  have  passed  over  what,  perhaps,  would  have  been  a  proof, 
stronger  than  any  other,  of  their  influence,  because  I  feared  that  opinion 
concerning  its  value  might  be  divided,  or  the  motives  of  many,  among 
those  who  gave  it,  might  be  mere  easily  suspected.  I  allude  to  the 
crusades,  those  gigantic  quests  of  ancient  chivalry,  when  knighthood,  of 
its  own  nature  a  lover  of  solitary  adventure  and  individual  glory,  became, 
so  to  speak,  gregarious,  and  poured  its  blood  in  streams  to  regain  the 
sepulchre  of  Christ.  Could  such  a  spirit  of  religious  enterprise  have  any- 
where existed,  if  the  thoughts  of  men  had  not  been  taught  to  solemnize 
His  passion,  by  the  contemplation  of  scenes  which  led  them  yearly  in 
spirit  to  Jerusalem,  and  inflamed  their  minds  with  warm  devotion  toward 
the  place  of  their  redemption  ?  Would  pilgrims  have  flocked  to  Pales- 
tine, in  spite  of  paynim  oppression  and  stripes,  and  even  of  death,  if 
Passion-tide,  in  their  own  country,  had  ever  passed  over,  like  any  other 
week,  without  offices,  without  mourning,  without  deep  expressions  of 
sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  Christ?  Was  it  not  the  thought,  how 
much  more  feeling  will  all  these  functions  be,  upon  the  very  spot 
whereon  what  they  commemorate  occurred,  that  necessarily  formed  the 
first  link  in  the  reasoning  which  led  them  from  their  homes  ?  Couid  they 
have  been  induced  to  undertake  so  long,  so  wearisome,  and  so  perilous  a 
journey,  with  no  other  prospect,  during  the  season  commemorative  of  the 
passion,  than  a  solitary  every-day  service  on  one  morning  of  the  week  ? 
And  we  know,  that  to  secure  these  pious  palmers  from  the  vexatious 
tyranny  of  the  infidels,  was  one  of  the  great  motives  of  these  expeditions. 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  65 

.  But  on  this  subject  I  do  not  wish  to  dwell.  Without  entering  on  such 
contested  ground,  I  flatter  myself  that  enough  has  been  said  to  show 
what  an  important  influence,  upon  public  virtue,  the  solemn  yearly  cele- 
bration of  Christ's  passion,  through  its  affecting  ceremonial,  has  exerted. 
It  has  brought  men,  even  unwillingly,  to  the  observance  of  propriety ;  it 
has  taught  kings  humility  and  charity ;  it  has  softened  the  harshness  of 
feudal  enmities,  and  produced  meekness  in  forgiving  wrongs.  But  we 
have  also  seen  Holy  Week  become,  in  some  sort,  the  very  heart  of  the 
entire  year  (as  its  mystery  is  of  Christianity),  sending  forth  a  living  stream 
of  holy  and  solemn  feeling,  which  circulated  through  the  whole  twelve 
months,  beating  powerfully  at  short  intervals  through  its  frame,  and 
renewing  at  each  stroke  the  healthy  and  quickening  action  of  its  first 
impulse. 

The  effects  thus  produced  upon  society  must  have  depended,  in  a 
great  measure,  upon  the  operation  which  this  solemnization  had  in  each 
individual ;  and  we  cannot  doubt  that  these  were,  as  they  now  are,  excel- 
lently beneficial.  For,  if  the  death  of  Christ  be  the  sinner's  only  refuge, 
and  the  just  man's  only  hope,  according  as  the  Catholic  Church  hath  ever 
taught,  it  cannot  be  without  good  and  wholesome  effects,  to  turn  the 
mind  of  each,  for  a  certain  space,  entirely  toward  this  subject,  excluding, 
as  much  as  possible,  at  the  same  time,  all  other  distracting  thoughts.  To 
understand,  however,  the  power  of  this  most  wise  disposition,  it  is  fair  to 
consider  this  season  with  all  its  attendant  circumstances. 

And,  first,  we  should  not  forget  that  Holy  Week  appears  not  suddenly 
in  the  midst  of  the  year,  to  be  entered  upon  abruptly,  and  without  prep- 
aration. It  has  a  solemn  vestibule,  in  the  previous  humiliation  of  Lent,, 
which,  by  fasting  and  retirement  from  the  usual  dissipations  of  the  re- 
maining year,  brings  the  mind  to  a  proper  tone  for  feeling  what  is  to 
come.  This  is  like  a  solitude  round  a  temple,  such  as  girded  the  Egyptian 
Oasis ;  and  prevents  the  intrusion  of  thoughts  and  impressions  too  fresh 
from  the  world  and  its  vanities.  As  the  more  important  mom'ent  of 
initiation  approaches,  the  gloom  becomes  more  dense,  and^  during  Passion 
Week,  in  which  now  we  are,  we  feel  ourselves  surrounded  by  sad  prepara- 
tions, inasmuch  as  every  part  of  our  liturgy  speaks  of  Christ's  passion, 
and  the  outward  signs  of  mourning  have  already  appeared  in  our  churches. 
During  this  Lenten  season  there  are  daily  sermons  in  the  principal 
churches,  wherein  eloquent  men  unfold  all  the  truths  of  religion  with  unc- 
tion and  zeal.  In  the  week  just  passed,  you  may  have  noticed  how,  during 
certain  hours  of  the  afternoons,  every  place  of  ordinary  refreshment  was 
empty  and  closed.  But  instead  of  them  the  churches  were  all  open  and 
full ;  for,  during  those  days,  other  learned  priests,  in  familiar  discourse, 
expounded  to  the  people  the  duty  of  returning  to  God  by  repentance^ 


66  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

through  the  sacrament  of  penance.  They  taught  them,  in  the  strongest 
terms,  the  necessity  of  changing  their  lives,  and  effectually  turning  from 
sin  ;  and  then  dwelt  on  the  purity  of  heart  and  burning  love,  with  which 
at  Easter  they  should  comply  with  the  Church's  precept  of  receiving  the 
sacred  communion.  These  were  the  themes  prescribed  to  them  during 
the  week  just  elapsed. 

The  work  of  preparation  has  not  ended  here.  For  almost  every  order 
of  men  there  have  been  opened  courses  of  spiritual  exercises  or  retreats, 
that  is,  perfect  retirement,  from^all  other  occupation,  to  prayer  and  pious 
reflection.  The  noblemen  have  held  theirs  in  the  chapel  at  the  Gesii ; 
ladies  at  the  oratory  of  the  Caravita  ;  and  the  numerous  houses  set  aside 
for  this  purpose  have  been  crowded ;  and  not  a  few,  whom  infirmity  pre- 
vents from  joining  them,  have  observed  these  pious  practices  at  home. 
Saturday  evening,  the  university,  and  every  establishment  of  education, 
commences  a  similar  course  of  retirements  and  devotions,  which  will  close 
on  Wednesday  morning.  During  these  days,  the  time  is  divided  between 
hearing  the  word  of  God,  chiefly  in  regard  to  its  most  saving  truths,  and 
meditating  thereon  in  solitude. 

It  is  thus  prepared,  that  the  Catholic  approaches,  or  is  desired  to  ap- 
proach, the  closing  days  of  the  Holy  Week,  and  to  assist  at  those  beauti- 
ful services,  which  lead  us  through  the  history  of  Our  Dear  Redeemer's 
passion.  The  conscience  has  been  purged  from  sin,  and  the  pledge  of 
salvation  probably  received,  the  ordinary  distinctions  of  life  have  been 
gradually  excluded,  and  the  temper  of  the  soul  brought  into  harmony 
with  the  feeling  they  inspire.  They  are  not  intended,  therefore,  to  pro- 
duce a  sudden  and  magical  effect,  but  only  to  come  upon  the  soul  with  a 
natural  sympathetic  power,  resulting  as  much  from  the  disposition  of  our 
minds  as  from  their  own  intrinsic  worth. 

This  view  of  the  last  days,  or  rather  of  the  entire  of  Holy  Week,  as  a 
time  of  individual  sanctification,  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  Rome,  or  to 
this  age.  It  is  inculcated  in  every  Catholic  country.  In  Paris,  there  are 
always  such  public  exercises  preparatory  to  it ;  and  in  Spain,  as  well  as 
every  part  of  Italy,  the  same  course  is  pursued.  In  former  times  it  was 
so  in  our  own  country.  In  the  book  of  ecclesiastical  laws,  written  origi- 
nally by  Theodulph,  bishop  of  Orleans,  in  the  eighth  century,  and  adopted 
in  England,  in  994,  we  find  it  enacted,  that  all  the  faithful  partake  of  the 
holy  communion  every  Sunday  in  Lent,  and  on  the  Thursday,  Friday, 
and  Saturday  of  Holy  Week,  and  Easter  Sunday ;  and  likewise,  that  all 
the  days  of  Easter  Week  be  kept  with  equal  devotion. 

That  the  observance  of  this  time,  in  such  a  manner,  must  be  to  many 

most  blessed,  no  one  will,  I  think,  deny.     For  opportunities  are  thus 

'certainly  given,  on  occasion  of  it,  to  ponder  well  upon  the  great  duties  of 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  67 

the  Christian  state,  and  the  means  of  accomplishing  them ;  and  all  this, 
most  surely,  would  not  have  been  devised  nor  executed  but  for  the  venera- 
tion with  which  the  celebration  of  our  Saviour's  death  is  regarded,  and 
the  holiness  and  purity  with  which  it  seems  to  us  that  so  sacred  a  com- 
memoration and  so  awful  a  representation  should  be  attended. 

And  if  these  can  indirectly  perform  so  much,  through  the  preparation 
they  require,  what  shall  we  say  of  themselves?  Combining,  in  justest 
proportions,  all  that  can  reach  the  soul, — beauty,  solemnity,  dignity,  and 
pathos,  performed  under  circumstances  calculated  to  soothe  the  feelings 
of  the  sternest  mind,  and  dedicated  to  the  most  Christian  of  all  possible 
objects,  must  they  not  have  a  devotional  influence  on  all  that  court  it 
with  a  pious  disposition  ?  Go  to  the  Sixtine  chapel,  with  the  impression 
that  you  are  not  about  to  witness  a  ceremony,  but  to  assist  at  an  annual 
remembrance  of  His  death,  whom  you  should  love, — a  remembrance,  too, 
wherein  you  have  a  part,  as  you  had  in  the  reality — in  which  your  com- 
passion, not  your  curiosity,  your  heart  and  not  your  captiousness,  ought 
to  be  engaged ;  unlock  all  the  nerves  of  the  soul,  that  emotion  may  enter 
in  through  every  sense  ;  follow  the  words  which  are  recited,  join  in  the 
prayers  that  are  poured  forth,  listen  to  the  pathetic  strains  in  which  the 
Church  utters  her  wail,  drinking  in  their  feeling  rather  than  admiring 
their  art, — and  I  will  promise  you,  that,  when  the  evening  shade  has 
closed  over  the  last  cadences  of  the  plaintive  music,  you  will  arise  and  go 
home,  as  you  would  from  the  house  of  mourning,  "  a  sadder  but  a  better 
man." 

And  is  not  this  truly  the  house  of  mourning  into  which  you  will  enter? 
Is  it  not  to  the  perpetual  anniversary  of  One  most  dear  to  us  that  we  are 
summoned?  When  our  nearest  of  kin  depart,  we  put  on  mourning 
weeds,  and  we  sorrow  for  a  time.  And  when  the  year  comes  round,  so 
long  as  the  dark  suit  upon  our  bodies  reminds  us,  we  recall  the  day.  The 
Church,  unfailing  in  her  ordinances  as  in  her  existence,  willeth  not  that 
we  so  quickly  forget.  She  sets  no  limits  to  the  religious  remembrance  of 
the  departed,  in  our  supplications  to  God  ;  she  perpetuates  their  memory, 
if  they  live  among  the  saints,  to  the  end  of  time.  How,  then,  can  she 
ever  forget  that  awful  stroke  which  robbed  earth  of  its  glory,  and  brought 
ail  nature  into  sorrow  ?  Surely,  to  allow  its  anniversary  to  pass  over, 
without  a  celebration  worthy  of  the  event,  would  be  an  unnatural  indif- 
ference in  her,  not  even  to  be  suspected. 

Who  knoweth  not,  how  closely  allied  are  the  tender  emotions  of  piety 
unto  sorrow?  Who  hath  not  felt  how  moments  of  distress  are  moments 
of  fervor  for  the  soul  that  seeketh  God  ?  I  believe,  that  hardly  a  religion, 
true  or  false,  will  be  found,  without  a  festival  of  sorrow  wherein  men  be- 
wail the  past  loss  of  some  worshipped  or  honored  being.     The  ancient 


68  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

mysteries  of  Egypt  had  certainly  such  ;  and  the  maidens  of  Judah  annu- 
ally retired  into  the  hills  to  mourn  over  the  virginity  of  Jephtha's 
daughter.  The  Persians  annually  celebrate  their  Aaschoor,  or  mourning 
feast  for  Hussein's  death.  The  squares  are  covered  with  black,  and 
stages  are  erected  on  which  the  Mullahs  relate  the  sorrowful  story,  while 
the  audience  are  in  tears.  For  ten  days,  processions,  alms-deeds,  and 
scenes  of  extravagant  sorrow,  occupy  the  city,  and  ceremonies  are  per- 
formed which  graphically  and  dramatically  represent  the  fate  of  the  young 
Caliph.  These  are  all  various  expressions  of  the  same  want,  felt  in  every 
religion,  of  dedicating  the  tenderer  emotions  to  the  service  of  God,  as 
those  which  best  can  harmonize  with  affectionate  devotion.  And  shall 
the  Christian  worship  alone,  which  presents  a  just,  a  moving,  a  sublime 
occasion  of  sorrow,  in  the  death  of  an  incarnate  God  for  our  sin,  dry  up, 
by  stern  decree,  the  fountain  of  such  pure  emotion,  or  afford  no  room  for 
outwardly  exercising  such  true  and  holy  feelings  ? 

Nay,  rather,  was  she  not  bound  to  scoop  out  a  channel  through  which 
they  might  flow  undisturbed  by  the  troubled  waters  of  worldly  solicitude? 
Could  we  have  expected  from  her  less,  than  that  she  should  have  digged 
a  cistern,  deep  and  wide,  for  such  pure  sentiments,  and  thence  sluiced  it 
off,  as  we  have  seen  her  do,  over  the  barrenness  of  the  remaining  seasons, 
to  refresh  them  with  a  living  stream  ? 

It  is  difficult  to  say  from  what  principle  of  self-knowledge  the  notion 
sprang  in  modern  religions  that  outward  forms  destroy  or  disturb  the  in- 
ward spirit.  It  should  seem,  that  the  very  knowledge  of  man's  twofold 
constitution  would  expose  the  idea  to  scorn.  It  must  be  that  daily  ex- 
perience proves,  how  soon  and  how  easily  men  forget  their  inward  duty, 
unless  outwardly  reminded,  through  the  senses,  of  its  obligation.  Where- 
fore it  should  have  been  decided  in  later  times,  that  the  ear  alone  is  the 
channel  of  admonition  and  encouragement,  and  that  the  eye, — that 
noblest  and  quickest  of  senses,  which  seizes  by  impulse  what  the  other 
receives  by  succession, — is  not  worthily  to  be  employed  for  religion,  I 
own  the  reason  is  hidden  from  me.  One  hand  fashioned  both ;  and 
why  should  not  both  be  rendered  back  in  homage  to  Him?  If  the 
splendor  of  religious  ceremony  may  bewitch,  and  fix  the  eye  upon  the 
instrument  instead  of  the  object,  as  surely  may  the  orator's  skill,  or  the 
ornaments  of  his  speech. 

And  applying  these  ideas  to  our  present  subject ;  if  the  meditation 
upon  Christ's  Passion  be  the  worthiest  employment  of  any  true  Christian, 
what  shall  prevent  our  endeavoring  to  engage  every  good  feeling,  and 
every  channel  of  inward  communication,  in  assisting  us  to  the  exercise? 
Or,  who  shall  fear  that  we  shall  thereby  fail  ?  When  the  unfortunate 
Mary  Stuart  was  upon  the  scaffold,  having  prayed  for  her  implacable  per- 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  69 

secutor,  Elizabeth,  she  held  up  the  crucifix  which  she  bore,  exclaiming, 
"As  Thy  arms,  O  God,  were  stretched  out  upon  the  Cross,  so  receive  me 
into  the  arms  of  Thy  mercy,  and  forgive  me  my  sins."  Whereupon  the 
Earl  of  Kent  unfeelingly  said  :  "  Madam,  you  had  better  leave  such  pop- 
ish trumperies,  and  bear  Him  in  your  heart."  Now,  note  her  meek  and 
just  reply:  "I  cannot  hold  in  my  hand  the  representation  of  His  suffer- 
ings, but  I  must,  at  the  same  time,  bear  Him  in  my  heart."  Who  of 
those  two  spake  here  the  language  of  nature?  Whom  would  any  one 
wish  most  to  resemble  in  sentiment, — the  fanatic  who  presided,  or  the 
humble  queen  who  suffered  at  the  execution  ?  Sir  Thomas  Brown  is  not 
ashamed  to  own,  that  the  sight  of  a  Catholic  procession  has  sometimes 
moved  him  to  tears.     Who  will  say  that  these  were  not  salutary? 

But  the  best  proof  that  the  attention  paid  to  the  commemoration  of 
Christ's  Passion,  during  the  ensuing  days,  does  not  rest  outside  the  heart, 
but  penetrates  to  its  very  core,  saturating  it  with  a  rich  and  lasting  unc- 
tion of  true  devotion,  would  be  drawn  from  the  writings  of  our  Catholic 
authors.  It  would  be  impossible  even  to  enumerate  the  works  which  we 
possess  upon  the  Passion,  filled  with  a  fervor  of  eloquence,  a  depth  of 
feeling,  and  a  penetrating  power,  which  no  other  writings  possess.  Who- 
ever can  read  St.  Bernard's  sermons  on  Palm  Sunday,  Holy  Thursday, 
and  Good  Friday,  and  not  feel  the  tears  in  his  eyes,  will  not  easily  be 
moved  by  words ;  and  he  must  be  absolutely  without  a  heart  who  should 
pronounce  that  the  mysteries  of  those  days  produced  only  a  sensible  and 
ineffectual  devotion. 

But  there  is  another  writer  upon  this  inexhaustible  subject,  who  more 
than  any  other  will  justify  all  that  I  have  said ;  and,  moreover,  prove  the 
influence  which  these  festivals  of  the  Passion  may  exercise  upon  the  ha- 
bitual feelings  of  a  Christian.  I  speak  of  the  exquisite  meditations  of  St. 
Bonaventure  upon  the  life  of  Christ,  a  work  in  which  it  is  difficult  what 
most  to  admire,  the  richness  of  imagination,  surpassed  by  no  poet,  or  the 
tenderness  of  sentiment,  or  the  variety  of  adaptation.  After  having  led 
us  through  the  affecting  incidents  of  our  Saviour's  infancy  and  life,  and 
brought  us  to  the  last  moving  scenes,  his  steps  become  slower,  from  the 
variety  of  his  beautiful  but  melancholy  fancies ;  he  now  proceeds,  not  from 
year  to  year,  or  from  month  to  month,  or  from  day  to  day,  but  each  hour 
has  its  meditations,  and  every  act  of  the  last  tragedy  affords  him  matter 
for  pathetic  imagination.  But  when,  at  the  conclusion,  he  comes  to  pro- 
pose to  us  the  method  of  practicing  his  holy  contemplations,  he  so  dis- 
tributes them,  that  from  Monday  to  Wednesday  shall  embrace  the  whole 
of  our  Saviour's  life ;  but  from  Thursday  to  Sunday  inclusive,  each  day 
shall  be  entirely  taken  up  with  that  mystery  which  the  Church  in  Holy 
Week  has  allotted  to  it.     In  this  manner  did  he,  with  many  others,  ex- 


70  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

tend  throughout  the  whole  year  the  solemn  commemorations  of  Holy 
Week,  for  the  promotion  of  individual  devotion  and  sanctification,  even  as 
the  Church  had  done  for  the  public  welfare. 

These  are  but  a  few  examples.  What  shall  I  say  of  the  tender  and 
continual  devotion  of  so  many  holy  persons  to  the  Passion  of  Christ  ?  Of 
St.  John  of  the  Cross  ?  Of  the  blessed  Teresa,  who,  from  childhood, 
never  slept  till  she  had  meditated  on  it  ?  Above  all,  of  that  sublime 
saint,  the  seraphic  Francis,  "  The  Troubadour  of  love,"  as  Gorres  has 
justly  called  him,  whose  poems,  the  earliest  ascertainable  in  the  Italian 
language,  breathe  nothing  but  a  devotion  toward  Christ  and  Him  cruci- 
fied, which  proves  how  deeply  he  bore  Him  in  his  heart.  But  this  topic 
would  lead  me  far  astray.  Before,  however,  taking  leave  of  it,  I  would 
remark,  that  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,  and 
that  not  only  in  individuals,  but  in  their  communities.  It  is  this  St.  Ber- 
nard observes  of  his  constant  repetition  of  his  Saviour's  name,  "  It  is  in 
my  heart,"  he  says,  "and  thence  it  leaps  to  my  mouth."  It  is  difficult  to 
imagine  a  religion  whose  inward  and  vital  principles  are  not  expressed  in 
its  public  offices,  and  recorded,  as  on  monuments,  in  its  religious  enact- 
ments :  and  yet  it  would  not  be  impossible  to  find  an  example  of  such  a 
■phenomenon.  When  the  separation  of  religion  took  place  in  England, 
one  of  the  great  charges  against  the  Church  was,  that  it  had  abandoned 
Christ  and  the  sole  trust  in  His  blood,  and  had  rather  sought  favor  from 
saints  and  angels ;  and  these  things  were  called  abominations  and  foul 
corruption.  Now,  if  posterity  had  to  judge  on  this  matter,  how  aston- 
ished would  it  be  to  read  the  Act  of  5  and  6  Edward  VI.,  for  the  regu- 
lating of  feasts,  and  find  every  saint's  day  enjoined  to  be  kept  holy,  which 
the  Catholics  now  keep,  and  many  more ;  but  every  day  omitted  which 
in  the  leastwise  alludes  to  the  death  and  Passion  of  our  Lord !  But 
amongst  us  no  such  inconsistency  will  be  discovered.  We  profess  to 
honor  Christ  and  His  blessed  Passion  by  inward  and  devout  affection,  and 
we  carefully  lay  aside  days  and  circumstances  in  which  to  testify  our 
feelings. 

It  is  time,  however,  that  I  bring  you  to  some  conclusion.  I  have  pro- 
posed to  you  separate  views  of  the  functions  and  offices  of  Holy  Week, 
not  as  distinct  and  divisible  prospects,  whereof  each  may  choose  one  for 
himself,  but  rather  as  an  aggregate  of  harmonizing  sentiments,  all  uniting 
for  the  loftiest  and  holiest  of  purposes.  The  Christian  feeling  that  Christ 
is  to  be  unboundedly  honored  by  the  best  of  such  gifts  as  He  hath  be- 
stowed upon  man,  the  deeper  sentiment,  that  in  no  state  doth  He  more 
deserve  our  honor  and  affection  than  when  abased  and  afflicted  for  our 
sakes  ;  the  religious  enthusiasm  which  such  a  contemplation  of  Him  must 
excite ;  these  have  guided  the  Church,  from  age  to  age,  in  the  formation 


CARDINAL    WISEMAN.  71 

of  a  ceremonial  the  most  beautiful  and  poetical ;  these  have  inspired  the 
musician  with  his  plaintive  strains  ;  these  have  directed  the  artist's  mind 
and  hand  to  conceive  with  grandeur  and  adorn  with  solemnity  a  theatre 
befitting  so  holy,  so  great  a  celebration.  Thus  considered,  the  subject  of 
these  discourses,  disjointed  as  it  may  have  appeared,  receives  an  unity ; 
wfor  we  have  been  only  considering  the  various  emanations  of  one  and  the 
same  ruling  influence.  Who  would  wish  that  these  things  were  not  so? 
Who  would  hail  with  delight  a  reforming  power  that  should  remodel  all 
that  he  should  witness  upon  the  type  of  later  institutions,  and  work  those 
changes  which  such  an  alteration  would  require  ?  Away  with  the  tower- 
ing canopy  of  St.  Peter's  basilica,  with  its  angels  and  cross ;  extinguish 
forever  the  lights  that  have  there  burned  for  ages ;  fill  up  the  venerable 
confession  where  the  apostles'  bones  have  rested,  and  hew  down  the 
marble  altar ;  then  throw  a  screen  from  side  to  side,  to  be  locked  up  save 
for  one  short  hour ;  place  an  ordinary  table  at  the  upper  end,  exalt  the 
organ  beneath  the  dome,  and  fill  up  the  intermediate  space  with  pews 
and  stalls.  Banish  Palestrina's  magnificent  song  to  the  concert-room  ; 
shut  up  the  Sixtine  for  a  museum,  to  be  seen  by  permission ;  abolish  the 
entire  service,  and  make  the  days  which  solemnize  the  anniversary  of 
Christ's  torments  and  death  undistinguishable  from  those  which  precede 
and  follow  them.  What  would  religion  have  gained?  Would  a  purer 
love  for  Him  have  been  thus  shown  to  have  descended  among  men  ? 
Would  it  seem  to  you  that  thus  He  was  more  truly  honored  ?  Could 
you  desire  for  a  moment  to  see  such  changes  ? 

If  any  one's  heart  here  answer.  Yes !  I  entreat,  I  implore  him  not  to 
attend  the  ofifices  of  the  Holy  Week.  He  certainly  will  not  enjoy  them ; 
he  certainly  will  suffer  pain,  and  moreover  find  himself  distracted  by 
them  in  that  more  spiritual  and  peculiar  way  in  which  he  intends  to  com- 
memorate his  Saviour's  Passion.  He  will  be  doing  even  worse,  for  he 
will  necessarily  inspire  by  his  conduct  the  feelings  of  his  neighbors.  But 
whoever  shall  go  with  a  mind  duly  prepared,  and  with  a  heart  unpreju- 
diced, and  with  a  soul  alive  to  religious  impressions,  will  not  surely  re- 
turn disappointed. 

With  these  remarks  I  take  my  leave,  conscious  that  I  have  but 
glanced  over  the  surface  of  my  undertaking,  and  that  I  have  but  done 
little  justice  to  its  beauties.  To  do  this  would  require  a  treatise  rather 
than  a  few  short  essays.  I  shall  be  satisfied,  however,  if  I  have  fulfilled 
the  moderate  promise  which  I  made  at  the  outset,  of  presenting  such 
general  views  as  might  be  preparatory  to  appreciating  the  beauties,  and 
imbibing  the  feeling,  of  these  simple  yet  magnificent  ceremonials. 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 


Cardinal  John  Henry  Newman,  D.D.,  was  born  in  London,  in  1801. 
In  the  year  1824  he  was  ordained  clergyman  of  the  English  Church.  In 
1845  he  was  admitted  to  the  Catholic  Church,  and  shortly  afterward 
ordained  to  the  priesthood,  in  Rome.  In  1848  he  returned  to  England, 
and  established  a  branch  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Oratory  of  St.  Philip 
Neri,  of  which  he  became  Superior,  subsequently.  In  the  year  1852  he  was 
appointed  rector  of  the  Catholic  University,  established  in  Dublin,  and  in 
1879  created  Cardinal  by  Pope  Leo  XIII,     His  Eminence  died  in  1890. 


(73) 


■ 

^^^^m    A^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^L^^^^^^^^^^^^B^^I 

^ 

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^^^Zp^  iijK 

1^^    1 

^^^^^^■^^^^^KL- 

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I     ^ 

^                 ii  jiyStilSi 

€A\^0)flB^AL    ff^EWG^A^. 


THE  SALVATION  OF  THE  HEARER  THE  MOTIVE 
OF  THE  PREACHER. 

HEN  a  body  of  men  come  into  a  neighborhood  to  them  un- 
known, as  we  are  doing,  my  brethren,  strangers  to  strangers, 
and  there  set  themselves  down,  and  raise  an  altar,  and  open  a 
school,  and  invite,  or  even  exhort  all  men  to  attend  them,  it 
is  natural  that  they  who  see  them,  and  are  drawn  to  think  about  them, 
should  ask  the  question,  What  brings  them  hither  ?  Who  bids  them 
come  ?  What  do  they  want  ?  What  do  they  preach  ?  What  is  their 
warrant  ?  What  do  they  promise  ? — You  have  a  right,  my  brethren,  to 
ask  the  question. 

Many,  however,  will  not  stop  to  ask  it,  as  thinking  they  can  answer 
it  without  difficulty  for  themselves.  Many  there  are  who  would  prompt- 
ly and  confidently  answer  it,  according  to  their  own  habitual  view  of 
things,  on  their  own  principles,  the  principles  of  the  world.  The  views, 
the  principles,  the  aims  of  the  world  are  very  definite,  are  everywhere 
acknowledged,  and  are  incessantly  acted  on.  They  supply  an  explana- 
tion of  the  conduct  of  individuals,  whoever  they  be,  ready  at  hand,  and 
so  sure  to  be  true  in  the  common  run  of  cases,  as  to  be  probable  and 
plausible  in  any  case  in  particular.  When  we  would  account  for  effects 
which  we  see,  we  of  course  refer  them  to  causes  which  we  know  of.  To 
fancy  causes  of  which  we  know  nothing,  is  not  to  account  for  them  at  all. 
The  world  then  naturally  and  necessarily  judges  of  others  by  itself. 
Those  who  live  the  life  of  the  world,  and  act  from  motives  of  the  world, 
and  live  and  act  with  those  who  do  the  like,  as  a  matter  of  course  ascribe 
the  actions  of  others,  however  different  they  may  be  from  their  own,  to 
one  or  other  of  the  motives  which  weigh  with  themselves ;  for  some  mo- 
tive or  other  they  must  assign,  and  they  can  imagine  none  but  those  of 
which  they  have  experience. 

We  know  how  the  world  goes  on,  especially  in  this  country ;  it  is  a 
laborious,  energetic,  indefatigable  world.  It  takes  up  objects  enthusias- 
tically, and  vigorously  carries  them  through.  Look  into  the  world,  as  its 
course  is  faithfully  traced  day  by  day  in  those  publications  which  are  de- 
voted to  its  service,  and  you  will  see  at  once  the  ends  which  stimulate  it, 
and  the  views  which  govern  it.  You  will  read  of  great  and  persevering 
exertions,  made  for  some  temporal  end,  good  or  bad,  but  still  temporal. 

(75) 


76  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Some  temporal  end  it  is,  even  if  it  be  not  a  selfish  one  ; — generally,  in- 
deed, it  is  such  as  name,  influence,  power,  wealth,  station  ;  sometimes  it 
is  the  relief  of  the  ills  of  human  life  or  society,  of  ignorance,  sickness, 
poverty,  or  vice — still  some  temporal  end  it  is,  which  is  the  exciting  and 
animating  principle  of  those  exertions.  And  so  pleasant  is  the  excite- 
ment which  those  temporal  objects  create,  that  it  is  often  its  own  reward  ; 
insomuch  that,  forgetting  the  end  for  which  they  toil,  men  find  a  satis- 
faction in  the  toil  itself,  and  are  suflficiently  repaid  for  their  trouble  by 
their  trouble, — by  the  struggle  for  success,  and  the  rivalry  of  party,  and 
the  trial  of  their  skill,  and  the  demand  upon  their  resources,  by  the 
vicissitudes  and  hazards,  and  ever  new  emergencies,  and  varying  requisi- 
tions of  the  contest  which  they  carry  on,  though  that  contest  never 
comes  to  an  end. 

Such  is  the  way  of  the  world  ;  and  therefore,  I  say,  it  is  not  unnatural, 
that,  when  it  sees  any  persons  whatever  anywhere  begin  to  work  with 
energy,  and  attempt  to  get  others  about  them,  and  act  in  outward  ap- 
pearance like  itself,  though  in  a  different  direction  and  with  a  religious  pro- 
fession, it  should  unhesitatingly  impute  to  them  the  motives  which  in- 
fluence, or  would  influence  its  own  children.  Often  by  way  of  blame, 
but  sometimes  not  as  blaming,  but  as  merely  stating  a  plain  fact,  which 
it  thinks  undeniable,  it  takes  for  granted  that  they  are  ambitious,  or  rest- 
less,  or  eager  for  distinction,  or  fond  of  power.  It  knows  no  better ;  and 
it  is  vexed  and  annoyed  if,  as  time  goes  on,  one  thing  or  another  is 
seen  in  the  conduct  of  those  whom  it  criticises,  which  is  inconsistent  with 
the  assumption  on  which,  in  the  first  instance,  it  so  summarily  settled 
their  position  and  anticipated  their  course.  It  took  a  general  view  of 
them,  looked  them  through,  as  it  thought,  and  from  some  one  action  of 
theirs  which  came  to  its  knowledge,  assigned  to  them  unhesitatingly 
some  particular  motive  as  their  habitual  actuating  principle ;  but  present- 
ly it  finds  it  is  obliged  to  shift  its  ground,  to  take  up  some  new  hypothe- 
sis, and  explain  to  itself  their  character  and  their  conduct  over  again. 
O,  my  dear  brethren,  the  world  cannot  help  doing  so,  because  it  knows  us 
not ;  it  ever  will  be  impatient  with  us  for  not  being  of  the  world,  because 
it  is  the  world  ;  it  is  necessarily  blind  to  the  one  strong  motive  which 
has  influence  with  us,  and,  tired  out  at  length  with  hunting  through  its 
catalogues  and  note-books  for  a  description  of  us,  it  sits  down  in  disgust, 
after  its  many  conjectures,  and  flings  us  aside  as  inexplicable,  or  hates 
us  as  if  mysterious  and  designing. 

My  brethren,  we  have  secret  views — secret,  that  is  from  men  of  this 
world  ;  secret  from  politicians,  secret  from  the  slaves  of  mammon,  secret 
from  all  ambitious,  covetous,  selfish,  and  voluptuous  men.  For  religion 
itself,  like  its  Divine  Author  and  Teacher,  is,  as  I  have  said,  a  hidden 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  77 

thing  from  them  ;  and  not  knowing  it,  they  cannot  use  it  as  a  key  to  in- 
terpret the  conduct  of  those  who  are  influenced  by  it.  They  do  not 
know  the  ideas  and  motives  which  religion  sets  before  that  mind  which 
it  has  made  its  own.  They  do  not  enter  into  them,  or  realize  them,  even 
when  they  are  told  them  ;  and  they  do  not  believe  that  a  man  can  be  in- 
fluenced by  them,  even  when  he  professes  them.  They  cannot  put  them- 
selves into  the  position  of  a  man  simply  striving,  in  what  he  does,  to 
please  God.  They  are  so  narrow-minded,  such  is  the  meanness  of  their 
intellectual  make,  that,  when  a  Catholic  makes  profession  of  this  or  that 
doctrine  of  the  Church, — sin,  judgment,  heaven  and  hell,  the  blood  of 
Christ,  the  power  of  Saints,  the  intercession  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or  the 
real  presence  in  the  Eucharist, — and  says  that  these  are  the  objects  which 
inspire  his  thoughts  and  direct  his  actions  through  the  day,  they  cannot 
take  in  that  he  is  in  earnest ;  for  they  think,  forsooth,  that  these  points 
ought  to  be  his  very  difficulties,  and  are  at  most  nothing  more  than  trials 
to  his  faith,  and  that  he  gets  over  them  by  putting  force  on  his  reason, 
and  thinks  of  them  as  little  as  he  can ;  and  they  do  not  dream  that  truths 
such  as  these  have  a  hold  upon  his  heart,  and  exert  an  influence  on  his 
life.  No  wonder,  then,  that  the  sensual,  and  worldly-minded,  and  the 
unbelieving,  are  suspicious  of  one  whom  they  cannot  comprehend,  and 
are  so  intricate  and  circuitous  in  their  imputations,  when  they  cannot 
bring  themselves  to  accept  an  explanation  which  is  straight  before  them. 
So  it  has  been  from  the  beginning ;  the  Jews  preferred  to  ascribe  the 
conduct  of  our  Lord  and  His  forerunner  to  any  motive  but  that  of  a  de- 
sire to  fulfil  the  will  of  God.  To  the  Jews  they  were,  as  He  says,  "  like 
children  sitting  in  the  market-place,  which  cry  to  their  companions,  say- 
ing, We  have  piped  to  you,  and  you  have  not  danced ;  we  have  lamented 
to  you,  and  you  have  not  mourned."  And  then  He  goes  on  to  account 
for  it :  "I  thank  Thee,  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  Thou  hast 
hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  to 
little  ones.     Yea,  Father:  for  so  hath  it  been  pleasing  to  Thy  sight." 

Let  the  world  have  its  way,  let  it  say  what  it  will  about  us,  my 
brethren  ;  but  that  does  not  hinder  our  saying  what  we  think,  and  what 
the  eternal  God  thinks  and  says,  about  the  world.  We  have  as  good  a 
right  to  have  our  own  judgment  about  the  world,  as  the  world  to  have  its 
judgment  about  us  ;  and  we  mean  to  exercise  that  right ;  for,  while  we 
know  well  it  judges  us  amiss,  we  have  God's  testimony  that  we  judge  it 
truly.  While,  then,  it  is  eager  in  ascribing  our  earnestness  to  one  or 
other  of  its  own  motives,  listen  to  me,  while  I  show  you,  as  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  do,  that  it  is  our  very  fear  and  hatred  of  those  motives,  and  our 
compassion  for  the  souls  possessed  by  them,  which  makes  us  so  busy  and 
so  troublesome,  which  prompts  us  to  settle  down  in  a  district,  so  destitute 


78  L>JSCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

of  outward  recommendations,  but  so  overrun  with  religious  error  and  so 
populous  in  souls. 

O  my  brethren,  little  does  the  world,  engrossed,  as  it  is,  with  things 
of  time  and  sense,  little  does  it  trouble  itself  about  souls,  about  the  state 
of  souls  in  God's  sight,  about  their  past  history,  and  about  their  pros- 
pects for  the  future.  The  world  forms  its  views  of  things  for  itself,  and 
in  its  own  way,  and  lives  in  them.  It  never  stops  to  consider  whether 
they  are  sound  and  true ;  nor  does  it  come  into  its  thought  to  seek  for 
any  external  standard,  or  channel  of  information,  by  which  their  truth 
can  be  ascertained.  It  is  content  to  take  things  for  granted  according  to 
their  first  appearance  ;  it  does  not  stop  to  think  of  God  ;  it  lives  for  the 
day,  and  (in  a  perverse  sense)  "  is  not  solicitous  for  the  morrow."  What 
it  sees,  tastes,  handles,  is  enough  for  it ;  this  is  the  limit  of  its  knowledge 
and  of  its  aspirations ;  what  tells,  what  works  well,  is  alone  respectable  ; 
efficiency  is  the  measure  of  duty,  and  power  is  the  rule  of  right,  and  suc- 
cess is  the  test  of  truth.  It  believes  what  it  experiences,  it  disbelieves 
what  it  cannot  demonstrate.  And,  in  consequence,  it  teaches  that  a  man 
has  not  much  to  do  to  be  saved  ;  that  either  he  has  committed  no  great 
sins,  or  that  he  will,  as  a  matter  of  course,  be  pardoned  for  committing 
them  ;  that  he  may  securely  trust  in  God's  mercy  for  his  prospects  in 
eternity ;  and  that  he  ought  to  discard  all  self-reproach,  or  deprecation, 
or  penance,  all  mortification  and  self-discipline,  as  affronting  or  derogatory 
to  that  mercy.  This  is  what  the  world  teaches,  by  its  many  sects  and 
philosophies,  about  our  condition  in  this  life,  this  and  the  like  ;  but  what, 
on  the  other  hand,  does  the  Catholic  Church  teach  concerning  it  ? 

She  teaches  that  man  was  originally  made  in  God's  image,  was  God's 
adopted  son,  was  the  heir  of  eternal  glory,  and,  in  foretaste  of  eternity, 
was  partaker  here  on  earth  of  great  gifts  and  manifold  graces ;  and  she 
teaches  that  now  he  is  a  fallen  being.  He  is  under  the  curse  of  original 
sin  ;  he  is  deprived  of  the  grace  of  God  ;  he  is  a  child  of  wrath  ;  he  can- 
not attain  to  heaven,  and  he  is  in  peril  of  sinking  into  hell.  I  do  not 
mean  he  is  fated  to  perdition  by  some  necessary  law :  he  cannot  perish 
without  his  own  real  will  and  deed ;  and  God  gives  him,  even  in  his 
natural  state,  a  multitude  of  inspirations  and  helps  to  lead  him  on  to  faith 
and  obedience.  There  is  no  one  born  of  Adam  but  might  be  saved,  as 
far  as  divine  assistances  are  concerned ;  yet,  looking  at  the  power  of 
temptation,  the  force  of  the  passions,  the  strength  of  self-love  and  self- 
will,  the  sovereignty  of  pride  and  sloth,  in  every  one  of  his  children,  who 
will  be  bold  enough  to  assert  of  any  particular  soul,  that  it  will  be  able 
to  maintain  itself  in  obedience,  without  an  abundance,  a  profusion  of 
grace,  not  to  be  expected,  as  bearing  no  proportion,  I  do  not  say  simply 
to  the  claims  (for  they  are  none),  but  to  the  bare  needs  of  human  nature  ? 


•  CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  79 

We  may  securely  prophesy  of  every  man  born  into  the  world,  that,  if  he 
comes  to  years  of  understanding,  he  will,  in  spite  of  God's  general  assist- 
ances, fall  into  mortal  sin  and  lose  his  soul.  It  is  no  light,  no  ordinary 
succor,  by  which  man  is  taken  out  of  his  own  hands  and  defended 
against  himself.  He  requires  an  extraordinary  remedy.  Now  what  a 
thought  is  this  !  what  a  light  does  it  cast  upon  man's  present  state  !  how 
different  from  the  view  which  the  world  takes  of  it ;  how  piercing,  how 
overpowering  in  its  influence  on  the  hearts  that  admit  it. 

Contemplate,  my  brethren,  more  steadily  the  history  of  a  soul  bom 
into  the  world,  and  educated  according  to  its  principles,  and  the  idea, 
which  I  am  putting  before  you,  will  grow  on  you.  The  poor  infant 
passes  through  his  two,  or  three,  or  five  years  of  innocence,  blessed  in 
that  he  cannot  yet  sin  ;  but  at  length  (O  woeful  day  !)  he  begins  to  realize 
the  distinction  between  right  and  wrong.  Alas !  sooner  or  later,  for  the 
age  varies,  but  sooner  or  later  the  awful  day  has  come  ;  he  has  the  power, 
the  great,  the  dreadful,  the  awful  power  of  discerning  and  pronouncing  a 
thing  to  be  wrong,  and  yet  doing  it.  He  has  a  distinct  view  that  he  shall 
grievously  offend  his  Maker  and  his  Judge  by  doing  this  or  that ;  and 
while  he  is  really  able  to  keep  from  it,  he  is  at  liberty  to  choose  it,  and  to 
commit  it.  He  has  the  dreadful  power  of  committing  a  mortal  sin. 
Young  as  he  is,  he  has  as  true  an  apprehension  of  that  sin,  and  can  give 
as  real  a  consent,  as  did  the  evil  spirit,  when  he  fell.  The  day  is  come, 
and  who  shall  say  whether  it  will  have  closed,  whether  it  will  have  run 
out  many  hours,  before  he  will  have  exercised  that  power,  and  have 
perpetrated,  in  fact,  what  he  ought  not  to  do,  what  he  need  not  do,  what 
he  can  do?  Who  is  there  whom  we  ever  knew,  of  whom  we  can  assert 
that,  had  he  remained  in  a  state  of  nature,  he  would  have  used  the 
powers  given  him, — that  if  he  be  in  a  state  of  nature,  he  has  used  the 
powers  given  him, — in  such  a  way  as  to  escape  the  guilt  and  penalty  of 
offending  Almighty  God?  No,  my  brethren,  a  large  town  like  this  is  a 
fearful  sight.  We  walk  the  streets,  and  what  numbers  are  there  of  those 
who  meet  us  who  have  never  been  baptized  at  all !  And  the  remainder, 
what  is  it  made  up  of,  but  for  the  most  part  of  those  who,  though 
baptized,  have  sinned  against  the  grace  given  them,  and  even  from  early 
youth  have  thrown  themselves  out  of  that  fold  in  which  alone  is  salva- 
tion !  Reason  and  sin  have  gone  together  from  the  first.  Poor  child,  he 
looks  the  same  to  his  parents !  They  do  not  know  what  has  been  going 
on  in  him ;  or  perhaps  did  they  know  it,  they  would  think  very  little  of 
it,  for  they  are  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin  as  well  as  he.  They  too,  long 
before  they  knew  each  other,  had  sinned,  and  mortally  too,  and  were 
never  reconciled  to  God ;  thus  they  lived  for  years,  unmindful  of  their 
state.     At  length  they  married ;  it  was  a  day  of  joy  to  them,  but  not  to 


so  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

the  Angels ;  they  might  be  in  high  life  or  in  low  estate,  they  might  be 
prosperous  or  not  in  their  temporal  course,  but  their  union  was  not 
blessed  by  God.  They  gave  birth  to  a  child ;  he  was  not  condemned  to 
hell  on  his  birth,  but  he  had  the  omens  of  evil  upon  him,  it  seemed  that 
he  would  go  the  way  of  all  flesh ;  and  now  the  time  is  come ;  the  presage 
is  justified ;  and  he  willingly  departs  from  God.  At  length  the  forbidden 
fruit  has  been  eaten ;  sin  has  been  devoured  with  a  pleased  appetite ;  the 
gates  of  hell  have  yawned  upon  him,  silently  and  without  his  knowing  it ; 
he  has  no  eyes  to  see  its  flames,  but  its  inhabitants  are  gazing  upon  him ; 
his  place  in  it  is  fixed  beyond  dispute; — unless  his  Maker  interfere  in 
some  extraordinary  way,  he  is  doomed. 

Yet  his  intellect  does  not  stay  its  growth,  because  he  is  the  slave  of 
sin.  It  opens ;  time  passes ;  he  learns  perhaps  various  things ;  he  may 
have  good  abilities,  and  be  taught  to  cultivate  them.  He  may  have 
engaging  manners ;  anyhow  he  is  light-hearted  and  merry,  as  boys  are. 
He  is  gradually  educated  for  the  world ;  he  forms  his  own  judgments ; 
chooses  his  principles,  and  is  moulded  to  a  certain  character.  That 
character  may  be  more,  or  it  may  be  less  amiable ;  it  may  have  much  or 
little  of  natural  virtue :  it  matters  not — the  mischief  is  within ;  it  is  done, 
and  it  spreads.  The  devil  is  unloosed  and  abroad  in  him.  For  a  while  he 
used  some  sort  of  prayers,  but  he  has  left  them  off;  they  were  but  a 
form,  and  he  had  no  heart  for  them ;  why  should  he  continue  them  ?  and 
what  was  the  use  of  them?  and  what  the  obligation?  So  he  has 
reasoned ;  and  he  has  acted  upon  his  reasoning,  and  ceased  to  pray. 
Perhaps  this  was  his  first  sin,  that  original  mortal  sin,  which  threw  him 
out  of  grace — a  disbelief  in  the  power  of  prayer.  As  a  child,  he  refused 
to  pray,  and  argued  that  he  was  too  old  to  pray,  and  that  his  parents  did 
not  pray.  He  gave  prayer  up,  and  in  came  the  devil,  and  took  possession 
of  him,  and  made  himself  at  home,  and  revelled  in  his  heart. 

Poor  child  !  Every  day  adds  fresh  and  fresh  mortal  sins  to  his 
account ;  the  pleadings  of  grace  have  less  and  less  effect  upon  him ;  he 
breathes  the  breath  of  evil,  and  day  by  day  becomes  more  fatally 
corrupted.  He  has  cast  off  the  thought  of  God,  and  set  up  self  in  His 
place.  He  has  rejected  the  traditions  of  religion  which  float  about  him, 
and  has  chosen  instead  the  more  congenial  traditions  of  the  world,  to  be 
the  guide  of  his  life.  He  is  confident  in  his  own  views,  and  does  not 
suspect  that  evil  is  before  him,  and  in  his  path.  He  learns  to  scoff  at 
serious  men  and  serious  things,  catches  at  any  story  circulated  against 
them,  and  speaks  positively  when  he  has  no  means  of  judging  or 
knowing.  The  less  he  believes  of  revealed  doctrine,  the  wiser  he  thinks 
himself  to  be.  Or,  if  his  natural  temper  keeps  him  from  becoming  hard- 
hearted, still  from  easiness  and  from  imitation  he  joins  in  mockery  of 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  81 

holy  persons  and  holy  things,  as  far  as  they  come  across  him.  He  is 
sharp  and  ready,  and  humorous,  and  employs  these  talents  in  the  cause 
of  Satan.  He  has  a  secret  antipathy  to  religious  truths  and  religious 
doings,  a  disgust  which  he  is  scarcely  aware  of,  and  could  not  explain,  if 
he  were.  So  was  it  with  Cain,  the  eldest  born  of  Adam,  who  went  on  to 
murder  his  brother,  because  his  works  were  just.  So  was  it  with  those 
poor  boys  at  Bethel  who  mocked  the  great  prophet  Eliseus,  crying  out, 
Go  up,  thou  bald-head !  Anything  serves  the  purpose  of  a  scoff  and 
taunt  to  the  natural  man,  when  irritated  by  the  sight  of  religion, 

O  my  brethren,  I  might  go  on  to  mention  those  other  more  loathsome 
and  more  hidden  wickednesses  which  germinate  and  propagate  within 
him,  as  time  proceeds,  and  life  opens  on  him.  Alas!  who  shall  sound  the 
depths  of  that  evil  ^vhose  wages  is  death  ?  O  what  a  dreadful  sight  to 
look  on,  is  this  fallen  world,  specious  and  fair  outside,  plausible  in  its 
professions,  ashamed  of  its  own  sins  and  hiding  them,  yet  a  mass  of 
corruption  under  the  surface !  Ashamed  of  its  sins,  yet  not  confessing  to 
itself  that  they  are  sins,  but  defending  them  if  conscience  upbraids,  and 
perhaps  boldly  saying,  or  at  least  implying,  that,  if  an  impulse  be  allow- 
able in  itself,  it  must  be  always  right  in  an  individual,  nay,  that  self- 
gratification  is  its  own  warrant,  and  that  temptation  is  the  voice  of  God. 
Why  should  I  attempt  to  analyze  the  intermingling  influences,  or  to 
describe  the  combined  power,  of  pride  and  lust, — lust  exploring  a  way  to 
evil,  and  pride  fortifying  the  road, — till  the  first  elementary  truths  of 
Revelation  are  looked  upon  as  mere  nursery  tales  ?  No,  I  have  intended 
nothing  more  than  to  put  wretched  nature  upon  its  course,  as  I  may  call  it» 
and  there  to  leave  it,  my  brethren,  to  your  reflections,  to  that  individual 
comment  which  each  of  you  may  be  able  to  put  on  this  faint  delineation, 
realizing  in  your  own  mind  and  your  own  conscience  what  no  words  can 
duly  set  forth. 

His  secular  course  proceeds :  the  boy  has  become  a  man ;  he  has  taken 
up  a  profession  or  a  trade ;  he  has  fair  success  in  it ;  he  marries,  as  his 
father  did  before  him.  He  plays  his  part  in  the  scene  of  mortal  life  ;  his 
connections  extend  as  he  gets  older:  whether  in  a  higher  or  a  lower 
sphere  of  society,  he  has  his  reputation  and  his  influence :  the  reputation 
and  the  influence  of,  we  will  say,  a  sensible,  prudent,  and  shrewd  man. 
His  children  grow  up  around  him ;  middle  age  is  over, — his  sun  declines 
in  the  heavens.  In  the  balance  and  by  the  measure  of  the  world,  he  is 
come  to  an  honorable  and  venerable  old  age ;  he  has  been  a  child  of  the 
world,  and  the  world  acknowledges  and  praises  him.  But  what  is  he  in 
the  balance  of  heaven  ?  What  shall  we  say  of  God's  judgment  of  him  ? 
What  about  his  soul? — about  his  soul?  Ah,  his  soul;  he  had  forgotten 
that ;  he  had  forgotten  he  had  a  soul,  but  it  remains  from  first  to  last  in 


82  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

the  sight  of  its  Maker.  Posuisti  scBcuhim  nostrum  in  illu7ninatione  vultHs 
Tui;  "  Thou  hast  placed  our  life  in  the  illumination  of  Thy  countenance." 
Alas !  alas !  about  his  soul  the  world  knows,  the  world  cares,  nought ;  it 
does  not  recognize  the  soul;  it  owns  nothing  in  him  but  an  intellect 
manifested  in  a  mortal  frame;  it  cares  for  the  man  while  he  is  here,  it 
loses  sight  of  him  when  he  is  there.  Still  the  time  is  coming  when  he 
is  leaving  here,  and  will  find  himself  there ;  he  is  going  out  of  sight,  amid 
the  shadows  of  that  unseen  world,  about  which  the  visible  world  is  so 
sceptical ;  so,  it  concerns  us  who  have  a  belief  in  that  unseen  world,  to 
inquire,  "  How  fares  it  all  this  while  with  his  soul  ?  "  Alas !  he  has  had 
pleasures  and  satisfactions  in  life,  he  has,  I  say,  a  good  name  among  men ; 
he  sobered  his  views  as  life  went  on,  and  he  began  to  think  that  order 
and  religion  were  good  things,  that  a  certain  deference  was  to  be  paid  to 
the  religion  of  his  country,  and  a  certain  attendance  to  be  given  to  its 
public  worship ;  but  he  is  still,  in  our  Lord's  words,  nothing  else  but  a 
whited  sepulchre ;  he  is  foul  within  with  the  bones  of  the  dead  and  all 
uncleanness.  All  the  sins  of  his  youth,  never  repented  of,  never  really 
put  away,  his  old  profanenesses,  his  impurities,  his  animosities,  his 
idolatries,  are  rotting  with  him;  only  covered  over  and  hidden  by  suc- 
cessive layers  of  newer  and  later  sins.  His  heart  is  the  home  of  darkness, 
it  has  been  handled,  defiled,  possessed  by  evil  spirits ;  he  is  a  being  without 
faith,  and  without  hope ;  if  he  holds  anything  for  truth,  it  is  only  as  an 
opinion,  and  if  he  has  a  sort  of  calmness  and  peace,  it  is  the  calmness, 
not  of  heaven,  but  of  decay  and  dissolution.  And  now  his  old  enemy 
has  thrust  aside  his  good  Angel,  and  is  sitting  near  him ;  rejoicing  in  his 
victory,  and  patiently  waiting  for  his  prey ;  not  tempting  him  to  fresh 
sins  lest  they  should  disturb  his  conscience,  but  simply  letting  well  alone; 
letting  him  amuse  himself  with  shadows  of  faith,  shadows  of  piety, 
shadows  of  worship ;  aiding  him  readily  in  dressing  himself  up  in  some 
form  of  religion  which  may  satisfy  the  weakness  of  his  declining  age,  as 
knowing  well  that  he  cannot  last  long,  that  his  death  is  a  matter  of  time, 
and  that  he  shall  soon  be  able  to  carry  him  down  with  him  to  his  fiery 
dwelling. 

O  how  awful !  and  at  last  the  inevitable  hour  is  come.  He  dies — he 
dies  quietly — his  friends  are  satisfied  about  him.  They  return  thanks 
that  God  has  taken  him,  has  released  him  from  the  troubles  of  life  and 
the  pains  of  sickness ;  "  a  good  father,"  they  say,  "  a  good  neighbor,"  "  sin- 
cerely lamented,"  "  lamented  by  a  large  circle  of  friends."  Perhaps  they 
add,  "  dying  with  a  firm  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God  "; — nay,  he  has  need  of 
something  beyond  mercy,  he  has  need  of  some  attribute  which  is  incon- 
sistent with  perfection,  and  which  is  not,  cannot  be,  in  the  All-glorious, 
All-holy  God ; — "  with  a  trust,"  forsooth,  "  in  the  promises  of  the  Gos- 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  83 

pel,"  which  never  were  his,  or  were  early  forfeited.  And  then,  as  time 
travels  on,  every  now  and  then  is  heard  some  passing  remembrance  of  him, 
respectful  or  tender ;  but  he  all  the  while  (in  spite  of  this  false  world, 
and  though  its  children  will  not  have  it  so,  and  exclaim,  and  protest,  and 
are  indignant  when  so  solemn  a  truth  is  hinted  at),  he  is  lifting  up  his 
eyes,  being  in  torment,  and  lies  "  buried  in  hell." 

Such  is  the  history  of  a  man  in  a  state  of  nature,  or  in  a  state  of 
defection,  to  whom  the  Gospel  has  never  been  a  reality,  in  whom  the 
good  seed  has  never  taken  root,  on  whom  God's  grace  has  been  shed  in 
vain,  with  whom  it  has  never  prevailed  so  far  as  to  make  him  seek  His 
face  and  to  ask  for  those  higher  gifts  which  lead  to  heaven.  Such  is  his 
dark  record.  But  I  have  spoken  of  only  one  man :  alas !  my  dear 
brethren,  it  is  the  record  of  thousands ;  it  is,  in  one  shape  or  other,  the 
record  of  all  the  children  of  the  world.  "  As  soon  as  they  are  born,"  the 
wise  man  says,  "  they  forthwith  have  ceased  to  be,  and  they  are  power- 
less  to  show  any  sign  of  virtue,  and  are  wasted  away  in  their  wickedness." 
They  may  be  rich  or  poor,  learned  or  ignorant,  polished  or  rude,  decent 
outwardly  and  self-disciplined,  or  scandalous  in  their  lives, — but  at  bottom 
they  are  all  one  and  the  same  ;  they  have  no  faith,  they  have  no  love  ; 
they  are  impure,  they  are  proud  ;  they  all  agree  together  very  well,  both  in 
opinions  and  in  conduct ;  they  see  that  they  agree ;  and  this  agreement 
they  take  as  a  proof  that  their  conduct  is  right  and  their  opinions  true. 
Such  as  is  the  tree,  such  is  the  fruit ;  no  wonder  the  fruit  is  the  same  in 
all  when  it  comes  of  the  same  root  of  unregenerate,  unrenewed  nature ; 
but  they  consider  it  good  and  wholesome,  because  it  is  matured  in  so 
many ;  and  they  chase  away,  as  odious,  unbearable,  and  horrible,  the  pure 
and  heavenly  doctrine  of  Revelation,  because  it  is  so  severe  upon  them- 
selves. No  one  likes  bad  news,  no  one  welcomes  what  condemns  him  ; 
the  world  slanders  the  Truth  in  self-defense,  because  the  Truth  denounces 
the  world. 

My  brethren,  if  these  things  be  so,  or  rather  (for  this  is  the  point 
here),  if  we  Catholics  firmly  believe  them  to  be  so,  so  firmly  believe  them 
that  we  feel  it  would  be  happy  for  us  to  die  rather  than  doubt  them,  is  it 
wonderful,  does  it  require  any  abstruse  explanation,  that  men  minded  as 
we  are  should  come  into  the  midst  of  a  population  such  as  this,  and  into 
a  neighborhood  where  religious  error  has  sway,  and  where  corruption  of 
life  prevails  both  as  its  cause  and  as  its  consequence  ; — a  population,  not 
worse  indeed  than  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  not  better;  not  better, 
because  it  has  not  with  it  the  gift  of  Catholic  truth ;  not  purer,  because 
it  has  not  within  it  that  gift  of  grace  which  alone  can  destroy  impurity  ; 
a  population,  sinful,  I  am  certain,  given  to  unlawful  indulgences,  laden 
with  guilt  and  exposed  to  eternal  ruin,  because  it  is  not  blessed  with 


84  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

that  Presence  of  the  Word  Incarnate,  which  diffuses  sweetness,  and  tran- 
quillity, and  chastity  over  the  heart ; — is  it  a  thing  to  be  marvelled  at, 
that  we  begin  to  preach  to  such  a  population  as  this,  for  which  Christ 
died,  and  try  to  convert  it  to  Him  and  to  His  Church  ?  Is  it  necessary 
to  ask  for  reasons  ?  is  it  necessary  to  assign  motives  of  this  world,  for  a 
proceeding  which  is  so  natural  in  those  who  believe  in  the  announcements 
and  requirements  of  the  other?  My  dear  brethren,  if  we  are  sure  that 
the  Most  Holy  Redeemer  has  shed  His  blood  for  all  men,  is  it  not  a  very 
plain  and  simple  consequence  that  we.  His  servants.  His  brethren.  His 
priests,  should  be  unwilling  to  see  that  blood  shed  in  vain, — wasted  I  may 
say,  as  regards  you,  and  should  wish  to  make  you  partakers  of  those 
benefits  which  have  been  vouchsafed  to  ourselves  ?  Is  it  necessary  for 
any  bystander  to  call  us  vainglorious,  or  ambitious,  or  restless,  greedy 
of  authority,  fond  of  power,  resentful,  party-spirited,  or  the  like,  when 
here  is  so  much  more  powerful,  more  present,  more  influential  a  motive 
to  which  our  eagerness  and  zeal  may  be  ascribed  ?  What  is  so  powerful 
an  incentive  to  preaching  as  the  sure  belief  that  it  is  the  preaching  of  the 
truth  ?  What  so  constrains  to  the  conversion  of  souls,  as  the  conscious- 
ness that  they  are  at  present  in  guilt  and  in  peril  ?  What  so  great  a  per- 
suasive to  bring  men  into  the  Church,  as  the  conviction  that  it  is  the 
special  means  by  which  God  effects  the  salvation  of  those  whom  the 
world  trains  in  sin  and  unbelief  ?  Only  admit  us  to  believe  v/hat  we  pro- 
fess, and  surely  that  is  not  asking  a  great  deal  (for  what  have  we  done 
that  we  should  be  distrusted  ?) — only  admit  us  to  believe  what  we  profess, 
and  you  will  understand  without  difficulty  what  we  are  doing.  We  come 
among  you,  because  we  believe  there  is  but  one  way  of  salvation,  marked 
out  from  the  beginning,  and  that  you  are  not  walking  along  it ;  we  come 
among  you  as  ministers  of  that  extraordinary  grace  of  God,  which  you 
need  ;  we  come  among  you  because  we  have  received  a  great  gift  from 
God  ourselves,  and  wish  you  to  be  partakers  of  our  joy  ;  because  it  is 
written,  "  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give  ";  because  we  dare  not  hide 
in  a  napkin  those  mercies,  and  that  grace  of  God,  which  have  been  given 
us,  not  for  our  own  sake  only,  but  for  the  benefit  of  others. 

Such  a  zeal,  poor  and  feeble  though  it  be  in  us,  has  been  the  very  life 
of  the  Church,  and  the  breath  of  her  preachers  and  missionaries  in  all 
ages.  It  was  a  fire  such  as  this  which  brought  our  Lord  from  heaven, 
and  which  He  desired,  which  He  travailed,  to  communicate  to  all  around 
Him.  "  I  am  come  to  send  fire  on  the  earth,"  He  says,  "  and  what  will 
I,  but  that  it  be  kindled  ?  "  Such,  too,  was  the  feeling  of  the  great 
Apostle  to  whom  his  Lord  appeared  in  order  to  impart  to  him  this  fire. 
"  I  send  thee  to  the  Gentiles,"  He  had  said  to  him  on  his  conversion,  "  to 
open  their  eyes,  that  they  may  be  converted  from  darkness  to  light,  and 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  85 

from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God."  And,  accordingly,  he  at  once 
began  to  preach  to  them,  that  they  should  do  penance,  and  turn  to  God 
with  worthy  fruits  of  penance,  "  for,"  as  he  says,  "  the  charity  of  Christ 
constrained  him,"  and  he  was  "  made  all  things  to  all  that  he  might  save 
all,"  and  he  "  bore  all  for  the  elect's  sake,  that  they  might  obtain  the 
salvation  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  with  heavenly  glory."  Such,  too,  was 
the  fire  of  zeal  which  burned  within  those  preachers,  to  whom  we  English 
owe  our  Christianity.  What  brought  them  from  Rome  to  this  distant 
isle  and  to  a  barbarous  people,  amid  many  fears,  and  with  much  suffering, 
but  the  sovereign  uncontrollable  desire  to  save  the  perishing,  and  to  knit 
the  members  and  slaves  of  Satan  into  the  body  of  Christ  ?  This  has 
been  the  secret  of  the  propagation  of  the  Church  from  the  very  first,  and 
will  be  to  the  end  ;  this  is  why  the  Church,  under  the  grace  of  God,  to  the 
surprise  of  the  world,  converts  the  nations,  and  why  no  sect  can  do  the 
like  ;  this  is  why  Catholic  missionaries  throw  themselves  so  generously 
among  the  fiercest  savages,  and  risk  the  most  cruel  torments,  as  knowing 
the  worth  of  the  soul,  as  realizing  the  world  to  come,  as  loving  their 
brethren  dearly,  though  they  never  saw  them,  as  shuddering  at  the 
thought  of  the  eternal  woe,  and  as  desiring  to  increase  the  fruit  of  their 
Lord's  passion,  and  the  triumph  of  His  grace. 

We,  my  brethren,  are  not  worthy  to  be  named  in  connection  with 
Evangelists,  Saints,  and  Martyrs  ;  we  come  to  you  in  a  peaceable  time 
and  in  a  well-ordered  state  of  society,  and  recommended  by  that  secret 
awe  and  reverence,  which,  say  what  they  will.  Englishmen  for  the  most 
part,  or  in  good  part,  feel  for  that  Religion  of  their  fathers,  which  has 
left  in  the  land  so  many  memorials  of  its  former  sway.  It  requires  no 
great  zeal  in  us,  no  great  charity,  to  come  to  you  at  no  risk,  and  entreat 
you  to  turn  from  the  path  of  death  and  be  saved.  It  requires  nothing 
great,  nothing  heroic,  nothing  saintlike  ;  it  does  but  require  conviction, 
and  that  we  have,  that  the  Catholic  Religion  is  given  from  God  for  the 
salvation  of  mankind,  and  that  all  other  religions  are  but  mockeries ;  it 
requires  nothing  more  than  faith,  a  single  purpose,  an  honest  heart,  and 
a  distinct  utterance.  We  come  to  you  in  the  name  of  God ;  we  ask  no 
more  of  you  than  that  you  listen  to  us ;  we  ask  no  more  than  that  you 
would  judge  for  yourselves  whether  or  not  we  speak  God's  words ;  it 
shall  rest  with  you  whether  we  be  God's  priests  and  prophets  or  no.  This 
is  not  much  to  ask,  but  it  is  more  than  most  men  will  grant ;  they  do  not 
dare  listen  to  us,  they  are  impatient  through  prejudice,  or  they  dread 
conviction.  Yes  1  many  a  one  there*  is,  who  has  even  good  reason  to 
listen  to  us,  nay,  on  whom  we  have  a  claim  to  be  heard,  who  ought  to 
have  a  certain  trust  in  us,  who  yet  shuts  his  ears,  and  turns  away,  and 
chooses  to  hazard  eternity  without  weighing  what  we  have  to  say.     How 


86 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


frightful  is  this !  but  you  are  not,  you  cannot  be  such  ;  we  ask  not  your 
confidence,  my  brethren,  for  you  have  never  known  us :  we  are  not  asking 
you  to  take  for  granted  what  we  say,  for  we  are  strangers  to  you  ;  we  do 
but  simply  bid  you  first  to  consider  that  you  have  souls  to  be  saved,  and 
next  to  judge  for  yourselves,  whether,  if  God  has  revealed  a  religion  of 
His  own  whereby  to  save  those  souls,  that  religion  can  be  any  other  than 
the  faith  which  we  preach. 


NEGLECT   OF   DIVINE    CALLS    AND   WARNINGS. 

|0  one  sins  without  making  some  excuse  to  himself  for  sinning. 
He  is  obliged  to  do  so  :  man  is  not  like  the  brute  beasts ;  he 
has  a  divine  gift  within  him  which  we  call  reason,  and  which 
constrains  him  to  account  before  its  judgment-seat  for  what  he 
does.  He  cannot  act  at  random  ;  however  he  acts,  he  must  act  by  some 
kind  of  rule,  on  some  sort  of  principle,  else  he  is  vexed  and  dissatisfied 
with  himself.  Not  that  he  is  very  particular  whether  he  finds  a  good 
reason  or  a  bad,  when  he  is  very  much  straitened  for  a  reason ;  but  a 
reason  of  some  sort  he  must  have.  Hence  you  sometimes  find  those 
who  give  up  religious  duty  altogether,  attacking  the  conduct  of  relig- 
ious men,  whether  their  acquaintance,  or  the  ministers  or  professors  of 
religion,  as  a  sort  of  excuse — a  very  bad  one — for  their  neglect.  Others 
will  make  the  excuse  that  they  are  so  far  from  church,  or  so  closely 
occupied  at  home,  whether  they  will  or  not,  that  they  cannot  serve 
God  as  they  ought.  Others  say  that  it  is  no  use  trying  to  do  so,  that 
they  have  again  and  again  gone  to  confession  and  tried  to  keep  out  of 
mortal  sin,  and  cannot  ;  and  so  they  gave  up  the  attempt  as  hopeless. 
Others,  when  they  fall  into  sin,  excuse  themselves  on  the  plea  that  they 
are  but  following  nature  ;  that  the  impulses  of  nature  are  so  very  strong, 
and  that  it  cannot  be  wrong  to  follow  that  nature  which  God  has  given 
us.  Others  are  bolder  still,  and  they  cast  off  religion  altogether :  they 
deny  its  truth ;  they  deny  Church,  Gospel,  and  Bible ;  they  go  so  far 
perhaps  as  even  to  deny  God's  governance  of  His  creatures.  They  boldly 
deny  that  there  is  any  life  after  death  :  and,  this  being  the  case,  of  course 
they  would  be  fools  indeed  not  to  take  their  pleasure  here,  and  to  make 
as  much  of  this  poor  life  as  they  can. 

And  there  are  others,  and  to  these  I  am  going  to  address  myself,  who 
try  to  speak  peace  to  themselves  by  cherishing  the  thought  that  some- 
thing or  other  will  happen  after  all  to  keep  them  from  eternal  ruin, 
though  they  now  continue  in  their  neglect  of  God ;  that  it  is  a  long  time 
yet  to  death ;  that  there  are  many  chances  in  their  favor ;  that  they  shall 
repent  in  process  of  time  when  they  get  old,  as  a  matter  of  course ;  that 
they  mean  to  repent  some  day ;  that  they  mean,  sooner  or  later,  seriously 
to  take  their  state  into  account,  and  to  make  their  ground  good ;  and,  if 
they  are  Catholics,  they  add,  that  they  will  take  care  to  die  with  the  last 

(87) 


88  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Sacraments,  and  that  therefore  they  need  not  trouble  themselves  about 
the  matter. 

Now  these  persons,  my  brethren,  tempt  God  ;  they  try  Him,  how  far 
His  goodness  will  go ;  and,  it  may  be,  they  will  try  Him  too  long,  and 
will  have  experience,  not  of  His  gracious  forgiveness,  but  of  His  severity 
and  His  justice.  In  this  spirit  it  was  that  the  Israelites  in  the  desert 
conducted  themselves  toward  Almighty  God :  instead  of  feeling  awe  of 
Him,  they  were  free  with  Him,  treated  Him  familiarly,  made  excuses,  pre- 
ferred complaints,  upbraided  Him ;  as  if  the  Eternal  God  had  been  a 
weak  man,  as  if  He  had  been  their  minister  and  servant ;  in  consequence, 
•we  are  told  by  the  inspired  historian,  "  The  Lord  sent  among  the  people 
fiery  serpents."  To  this  St.  Paul  refers  when  he  says,  "  Neither  let  us 
tempt  Christ,  as  some  of  them  tempted,  and  perished  by  the  serpents  "; 
a  warning  to  us  now,  that  those  who  are  forw^ard  and  bold  with  their  Al- 
mighty Saviour,  will  gain,  not  the  pardon  which  they  look  for,  but  will 
find  themselves  within  the  folds  of  the  old  serpent,  will  drink  in  his 
poisonous  breath,  and  at  length  will  die  under  his  fangs.  That  seducing 
spirit  appeared  in  person  to  our  Lord  in  the  days  of  His  flesh,  and  tried 
to  entangle  Him,  the  Son  of  the  Highest,  in  this  very  sin.  He  placed 
Him  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  and  said  to  Him,  "  If  Thqu  art  the 
Son  of  God,  cast  Thyself  down,  for  it  is  written.  He  has  given  His  Angels 
charge  of  Thee,  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  lift  Thee,  lest  perchance 
Thou  strike  Thy  foot  against  a  stone  ";  but  our  Lord's  answer  was,  "  It 
is  also  written,  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God."  And  so  num- 
bers are  tempted  now  to  cast  themselves  headlong  down  the  precipice  of 
sin,  assuring  themselves  the  while  that  they  will  never  reach  the  hell 
which  lies  at  the  bottom,  never  dash  upon  its  sharp  rocks,  or  be  plunged 
into  its  flames ;  for  Angels  and  Saints  are  there,  in  their  extremity,  in 
their  final  need, — or  at  least,  God's  general  mercies,  or  His  particular 
promises, — to  interpose  and  bear  them  <away  safely.  Such  is  the  sin  of 
these  men,  my  brethren,  of  which  I  am  going  to  speak ;  not  the  sin  of 
unbelief,  or  of  pride,  or  of  despair,  but  of  presumption. 

I  will  state  more  distinctly  the  kind  of  thoughts  which  go  through 
their  minds,  and  which  quiet  and  satisfy  them  in  their  course  of  irreligion. 
They  say  to  themselves,  "  I  cannot  give  up  sin  now ;  I  cannot  give  up 
this  or  that  indulgence ;  I  cannot  break  myself  of  this  habit  of  intemper- 
ance ;  I  cannot  do  without  these  unlawful  gains ;  I  cannot  leave  these 
employers  or  superiors,  who  keep  me  from  following  my  conscience.  It 
is  impossible  I  should  serve  God  now ;  and  I  have  no  leisure  to  look  into 
myself ;  and  I  do  not  feel  the  wish  to  repent ;  I  have  no  heart  for 
religion.  But  it  will  come  easier  by  and  by ;  it  will  be  as  natural  then  to 
repent  and  be  religious,  as  it  is  now  natural  to  sin.     I  shall  then  have 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  89 

fewer  temptations,  fewer  difficulties.  Old  people  are  sometimes  indeed 
reprobates,  but,  generally  speaking,  they  are  religious ;  they  are  religious 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course ;  they  may  curse  and  swear  a  little,  and  tell 
lies,  and  do  such-like  little  things  ;  but  still  they  are  clear  of  mortal  sin, 
and  would  be  safe  if  they  were  suddenly  taken  off."  And  when  some 
particular  temptation  comes  on  them,  they  think,  "  It  is  only  one  sin,  and 
once  in  a  way ;  I  never  did  the  like  before,  and  never  will  again  while  I 
live  ";  or,  *'  I  have  done  as  bad  before  now,  and  it  is  only  one  sin  more, 
and  I  shall  have  to  repent  anyhow ;  and  while  I  am  about  it,  it  will  be 
as  easy  to  repent  of  one  sin  more  as  of  one  less,  for  I  shall  have  to  repent 
of  all  sin  ";  or  again,  "  If  I  perish,  I  shall  not  want  company ; — what  will 
happen  to  this  person  or  that  ?  I  am  quite  a  Saint  compared  with  such 
a  one ;  and  I  have  known  men  repent,  who  have  done  much  worse  things 
than  I  have  done." 

Now,  my  dear  brethren,  those  who  make  such  excuses  to  themselves, 
know  neither  what  sin  is  in  its  own  nature,  nor  what  their  own  sins  are 
in  particular ;  they  understand  neither  the  heinousness  nor  the  multitude 
of  their  sins.  It  is  necessary,  then,  to  state  distinctly  one  or  two  points 
of  Catholic  doctrine,  which  will  serve  to  put  this  matter  in  a  clearer  view 
than  men  are  accustomed  to  take  of  it.  These  truths  are  very  simple  and 
very  obvious,  but  are  quite  forgotten  by  the  persons  of  wliom  I  have 
been  speaking,  or  they  would  never  be  able  to  satisfy  their  reason  and 
their  conscience  by  such  frivolous  pleas  and  excuses,  as  those  which  I 
have  been  drawing  out. 

First  then  observe,  that  when  a  person  says,  "  I  have  sinned  as  badly 
before  now,"  or,  "  This  is  only  one  sin  more,"  or,  "  I  must  repent  any- 
how, and  then  will  repent  once  for  all,"  and  the  like,  he  forgets  that  all 
his  sins  are  in  God's  hand  and  in  one  page  of  the  book  of  judgment,  and 
already  added  up  against  him,  according  as  each  is  committed,  up  to  the 
last  of  them ;  that  the  sin  he  is  now  committing  is  not  a  mere  single, 
isolated  sin,  but  that  it  is  one  of  a  series,  of  a  long  catalogue ;  that 
though  it  be  but  one,  it  is  not  sin  one,  or  sin  two,  or  sin  three  in  the  list, 
but  it  is  the  thousandth,  the  ten  thousandth,  or  the  hundred  thousandth, 
in  a  long  course  of  sinning.  It  is  not  the  first  of  his  sins,  but  the  last, 
and  perhaps  the  very  last  and  finishing  sin.  He  himself  forgets,  manages 
to  forget,  or  tries  to  forget,  wishes  to  forget,  all  his  antecedent  sins,  or 
remembers  them  merely  as  instances  of  his  having  sinned  with  impunity 
before,  and  proofs  that  he  may  sin  with  impunity  still.  But  every  sin 
has  a  history :  it  is  not  an  accident ;  it  is  the  fruit  of  former  sins  in 
thought  or  in  deed ;  it  is  the  token  of  a  habit  deeply  seated  and  widely 
spread  ;  it  is  the  aggravation  of  a  virulent  disease  ;  and,  as  the  last  straw  is 
said  to  break  the  horse's  back,  so  our  last  sin,  whatever  it  is,  is  that  which 


90  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

destroys  our  hope  and  forfeits  our  place  in  heaven.  Therefore,  my 
brethren,  it  is  but  the  craft  of  the  devil,  which  makes  you  take  your  sins 
one  by  one,  while  God  views  them  as  a  whole.  "  Signasti,  quasi  in 
sacculo,  delicta  mea"  says  holy  Job,  " Thou  hast  sealed  up  my  sins  as  in 
a  bag,"  and  one  day  they  will  all  be  counted  out.  Separate  sins  are  like 
the  touches  and  strokes  which  the  painter  gives,  first  one  and  then 
another,  to  the  picture  on  his  canvas ;  or  like  the  stones  which  the 
mason  piles  up  and  cements  together  for  the  house  he  is  building.  They 
are  all  connected  together ;  they  tend  to  a  whole ;  they  look  toward  an 
end,  and  they  hasten  on  to  their  fulfilment. 

Go,  commit  this  sin,  my  brethren,  to  which  you  are  tempted,  which 
you  persist  in  viewing  in  itself  alone,  look  on  it  as  Eve  looked  on  the 
forbidden  fruit,  dwell  upon  its  lightness  and  insignificance ;  and  perhaps 
you  may  find  it  after  all  to  be  just  the  coping-stone  of  your  high  tower, 
of  rebellion,  which  comes  into  remembrance  before  God,  and  fills  up  the 
measure  of  your  iniquities.  "  Fill  ye  up,"  says  our  Lord  to  the  hypo- 
critical Pharisees,  "the  measure  of  your  fathers."  The  wrath,  which 
came  on  Jerusalem,  was  not  simply  caused  by  the  sins  of  that  day,  in 
which  Christ  came,  though  in  that  day  was  committed  the  most  awful  of 
all  sins,  viz.,  His  rejection ;  for  that  was  but  the  crowning  sin  of  a  long 
course  of  rebellion.  So  again,  in  an  earlier  age,  the  age  of  Abraham,  ere 
the  chosen  people  had  got  possession  of  the  land  of  promise,  there  was 
already  great  and  heinous  sin  among  the  heathen  who  inhabited  it,  yet 
they  were  not  put  out  at  once,  and  Abraham  brought  in  ; — why  ?  because 
God's  mercies  were  not  yet  exhausted  toward  them.  He  still  bestowed 
His  grace  on  the  abandoned  people,  and  waited  for  their  repentance. 
But  He  foresaw  that  He  should  wait  in  vain,  and  that  the  time  of  venge- 
ance would  come ;  and  this  He  implied  when  He  said  that  He  did  not 
give  the  chosen  seed  the  land  at  once,  "  for  as  yet  the  iniquities  of  the 
Amorrhites  were  not  at  the  full,"  But  they  did  come  to  the  full  some 
hundred  years  afterward,  and  then  the  Israelites  were  brought  in,  with  the 
command  to  destroy  them  utterly  with  the  sword.  And  again,  you 
know  the  history  of  the  impious  Baltassar.  In  his  proud  feast,  when  he 
was  now  filled  with  wine,  he  sent  for  the  gold  and  silver  vessels  which 
belonged  to  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  had  been  brought  to  Babylon 
on  the  taking  of  the  holy  city, — he  sent  for  these  sacred  vessels,  that  out 
of  them  he  might  drink  more  wine,  he,  his  nobles,  his  wives,  and  his  con- 
cubines. In  that  hour,  the  fingers  as  of  a  man's  hand  were  seen  upon 
the  wall  of  the  banqueting-room,  writing  the  doom  of  the  king  and  of  his 
kingdom.  The  words  were  these :  "  God  hath  numbered  thy  kingdom, 
and  hath  finished  it :  thou  art  weighed  in  the  balance,  and  art  found 
wanting."     That  wretched  prince  had  kept  no  account  of  his  sins ;  as  a 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  91 

spendthrift  keeps  no  account  o^  his  debts,  so  he  went  on  day  after  day 
and  year  after  year,  revelling  in  pride,  cruelty,  and  sensual  indulgence, 
and  insulting  his  Master,  till  at  length  he  exhausted  the  Divine  Mercy, 
and  filled  up  the  chalice  of  wrath.  His  hour  came :  one  more  sin  he  did, 
and  the  cup  overflowed ;  vengeance  overtook  him  on  the  instant,  and  he 
was  cut  off  from  the  earth. 

And  that  last  sin  need  not  be  a  great  sin,  need  not  be  greater  than 
those  which  have  gone  before  it ;  perhaps  it  may  be  less.  There  was  a 
rich  man,  mentioned  by  our  Lord,  who,  when  his  crops  were  plentiful, 
said  within  himself,  *'  What  shall  I  do,  for  I  have  not  where  to  bestow 
my  fruits?  I  will  pull  down  my  barns,  and  build  greater;  and  I  will 
say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years ;  take 
thy  rest,  eat,  drink,  make  good  cheer."  He  was  carried  off  that  very 
night.  This  was  not  a  very  striking  sin,  and  surely  it  was  not  his  first 
great  sin ;  it  was  the  last  instance  of  a  long  course  of  acts  of  self- 
sufficiency  and  forgetfulness  of  God,  not  greater  in  intensity  than  any 
before  it,  but  completing  their  number.  And  so  again,  when  the  father 
of  that  impious  king,  whom  I  just  now  spoke  of,  when  Nabuchodonosor 
had  for  a  whole  year  neglected  the  warning  of  the  prophet  Daniel,  calling 
him  to  turn  from  his  pride  and  to  repent,  one  day  as  he  walked  in  the 
palace  of  Babylon,  he  said,  "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon,  which  I  have 
built  for  the  home  of  the  kingdom,  in  the  strength  of  my  power  and  in 
the  glory  of  my  excellence  ?  "  and  forthwith,  while  the  word  was  yet  in 
his  mouth,  judgment  came  upon  him,  and  he  was  smitten  with  a  new  and 
strange  disease,  so  that  he  was  driven  from  men,  and  ate  hay  like  the  ox, 
and  grew  wild  in  his  appearance,  and  lived  in  the  open  field.  His  con- 
summating act  of  pride  was  not  greater,  perhaps,  than  any  one  of  those 
which  through  the  twelvemonth  had  preceded  it. 

No ;  you  cannot  decide,  my  brethren,  whether  you  are  outrunning 
God's  mercy,  merely  because  the  sin  you  now  commit  seems  to  be  a 
small  one ;  it  is  not  always  the  greatest  sin  that  is  the  last.  Moreover, 
you  cannot  calculate,  which  is  to  be  your  last  sin,  by  the  particular  num- 
ber of  those  which  have  gone  before  it,  even  if  you  could  count  them, 
for  the  number  varies  in  different  persons.  This  is  another  very  serious 
circumstance.  You  may  have  committed  but  one  or  two  sins,  and  yet 
find  that  you  are  ruined  beyond  redemption,  though  others  who  have 
done  more  are  not.  Why  we  know  not,  but  God,  who  shows  mercy  and 
gives  grace  to  all,  shows  greater  mercy  and  gives  more  abundant  grace  to 
one  man  than  another.  To  all  He  gives  grace  sufficient  for  their  salva- 
tion ;  to  all  He  gives  far  more  than  they  have  any  right  to  expect,  and 
they  can  claim  nothing;  but  to  some  He  gives  far  more  than  to  others. 
He  tells  us  Himself,  that,  if  the  inhabitants  of  Tyre  and  Sidon  had  seen 


92  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  miracles  done  in  Chorazin,  they  would  have  done  penance  and  turned 
to  Him.  That  is,  there  was  that  which  would  have  converted  them,  and 
it  was  not  granted  to  them.  Till  we  set  this  before  ourselves,  we  have 
not  a  right  view  either  of  sin  in  itself,  or  of  our  own  prospects  if  we  live 
in  it.  As  God  determines  for  each  the  measure  of  his  stature,  and  the 
complexion  of  his  mind,  and  the  number  of  his  days,  yet  not  the  same 
for  all ;  as  one  child  of  Adam  is  preordained  to  live  one  day,  and  another 
eighty  years,  so  is  it  fixed  that  one  should  be  reserved  for  his  eightieth 
sin,  another  cut  off  after  his  first.  Why  this  is,  we  know  not ;  but  it  is 
parallel  to  what  is  done  in  human  matters  without  exciting  any  surprise. 
Of  two  convicted  offenders  one  is  pardoned,  one  is  left  to  suffer ;  and 
this  might  be  done  in  a  case  where  there  was  nothing  to  choose  be- 
tween the  guilt  of  the  one  and  of  the  other,  and  where  the  reasons  which 
determine  the  difference  of  dealing  toward  the  one  and  the  other,  what- 
ever they  are,  are  external  to  the  individuals  themselves.  In  like  man- 
ner you  have  heard,  L  daresay,  of  decimating  rebels,  when  they  had  been 
captured,  that  is,  of  executing  every  tenth  and  letting  off  the  rest.  So  it 
is  also  with  God's  judgments,  though  we  cannot  sound  the  reasons  of 
them.  He  is  not  bound  to  let  off  any ;  He  has  the  power  to  condemn 
all :  I  only  bring  this  to  show  how  our  rule  of  justice  here  below  does 
not  preclude  a  difference  of  dealing  with  one  man  and  with  another. 
The  Creator  gives  one  man  time  for  repentance.  He  carries  off  another 
by  sudden  death.  He  allows  one  man  to  die  with  the  last  Sacraments ; 
another  dies  without  a  Priest  to  receive  his  imperfect  contrition,  and  to 
absolve  him  ;  the  one  is  pardoned,  and  will  go  to  heaven ;  the  other  goes 
to  the  place  of  eternal  punishment.  No  one  can  say  how  it  will  happen 
in  his  own  case ;  no  one  can  promise  himself  that  he  shall  have  time  for 
repentance ;  or,  if  he  have  time,  that  he  shall  have  any  supernatural 
movement  of  the  heart  toward  God ;  or,  even  then,  that  a  Priest  will  be 
at  hand  to  give  him  absolution.  We  may  have  sinned  less  than  our 
next-door  neighbor,  yet  that  neighbor  may  be  reserved  for  repentance 
and  may  reign  with  Christ,  while  we  may  be  punished  with  the  evil 
spirit. 

Nay,  some  have  been  cut  off  and  sent  to  hell  for  their  first  sin.  This 
was  the  case,  as  divines  teach,  as  regards  the  rebel  Angels.  For  their 
first  sin,  and  that  a  sin  of  thought,  a  single  perfected  act  of  pride,  they 
lost  their  first  estate,  and  became  devils.  And  Saints  and  holy  people 
record  instances  of  men,  and  even  children,  who  in  like  manner  have  ut- 
tered a  first  blasphemy  or  other  deliberate  sin,  and  were  cut  off  without 
remedy.  And  a  number  of  similar  instances  occur  in  Scripture;  I  mean 
of  the  awful  punishment  of  a  single  sin,  without  respect  to  the  virtue  and 
general  excellence  of  the  sinner.     Adam,  for  a  single  sin,  small  in  appear- 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  93 

ance,  the  eating  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  lost  Paradise,  and  implicated  all 
his  posterity  in  his  own  ruin.  The  Bethsamites  were  irreverent  toward 
the  ark  of  the  Lord,  and  more  than  fifty  thousand  of  them  in  consequence 
were  smitten.  Oza  touched  it  with  his  hand,  as  if  to  save  it  from  falling, 
and  he  was  struck  dead  on  the  spot  for  his  rashness.  The  man  of  God 
from  Juda  ate  bread  and  drank  water  at  Bethel,  against  the  command  of 
God,  and  he  was  forthwith  killed  by  a  lion  on  his  return.  Ananias  and 
Sapphira  told  one  lie,  and  fell  down  dead  almost  as  the  words  left  their 
mouth.  Who  are  we,  that  God  should  wait  for  our  repentance  any 
longer,  when  He  has  not  waited  at  all,  before  He  cut  off  those  who  sin- 
ned less  than  we  ? 

O  my  dear  brethren,  these  presumptuous  thoughts  of  ours  arise  from 
a  defective  notion  of  the  malignity  of  sin  viewed  in  itself.  We  are  crim- 
inals, and  we  are  no  judges  in  our  own  case.  We  are  fond  of  ourselves, 
and  we  take  our  own  part,  and  we  are  familiar  with  sin,  and,  from  pride, 
we'do  not  like  to  confess  ourselves  lost.  For  all  these  reasons,  we  have 
no  real  idea  what  sin  is,  what  its  punishment  is,  and  what  grace  is.  We  do 
not  know  what  sin  is,  because  we  do  not  know  what  God  is ;  we  have  no 
standard  with  which  to  compare  it,  till  we  know  what  God  is.  Only  God's 
glories.  His  perfections.  His  holiness.  His  majesty,  His  beauty,  can  teach 
us  by  the  contrast  how  to  think  of  sin  ;  and  since  we  do  not  see  God 
here,  till  we  see  Him,  we  cannot  form  a  just  judgment  what  sin  is ,  till 
we  enter  heaven,  we  must  take  what  God  tells  us  of  sin,  mainly  on  faith. 
Nay,  even  then,  we  shall  be  able  to  condemn  sin,  only  so  far  as  we  are 
able  to  see  and  praise  and  glorify  God ;  He  alone  can  duly  judge  of  sin 
who  can  comprehend  God  ;  He  only  judged  of  sin  according  to  the  ful- 
ness of  its  evil,  who,  knowing  the  Father  from  eternity  with  a  perfect 
knowledge,  showed  what  He  thought  of  sin  by  dying  for  it ;  He  only, 
who  was  willing,  though  He  was  God,  to  suffer  inconceivable  pains  of 
soul  and  body  in  order  to  make  a  satisfaction  for  it.  Take  His  word,  or 
rather,  His  deed,  for  the  truth  of  this  awful  doctrine, — that  a  single  mor- 
tal sin  is  enough  to  cut  you  off  from  God  forever.  Go  down  to  the  grave 
with  a  single  unrepented,  unforgiven  sin  upon  you,  and  you  have  enough 
to  sink  you  down  to  hell ;  you  have  that,  which  to  a  certainty  will  be 
your  ruin.  It  may  be  the  hundredth  sin,  or  it  may  be  the  first  sin,  no 
matter:  one  is  enough  to  sink  you;  though  the  more  you  have,  the 
deeper  you  will  sink.  You  need  not  have  your  fill  of  sin  in  order  to  per- 
ish without  remedy ;  there  are  those  who  lose  both  this  world  and  the 
next ;  they  choose  rebellion,  and  receive,  not  its  gains,  but  death. 

Or  grant,  that  God's  anger  delays  its  course,  and  you  have  time  to 
add  sin  to  sin,  this  is  only  to  increase  the  punishment  when  it  comes. 
God  is  terrible,  when  He  speaks  to  the  sinner ;  He  is  more  terrible,  when 


94  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

He  refrains ;  He  is  more  terrible,  when  He  is  silent  and  accumulates 
wrath.  Alas !  there  are  those  who  are  allowed  to  spend  a  long  life,  and 
a  happy  life,  in  neglect  of  Him,  and  have  nothing  in  the  outward  course 
of  things  to  remind  them  of  what  is  coming,  till  their  irreversible  sen- 
tence bursts  upon  them.  As  the  stream  flows  smoothly  before  the  cat- 
aract, so  with  these  persons  does  life  pass  along  swiftly  and  silently, 
serenely  and  joyously.  "  They  are  not  in  the  labor  of  men,  neither  shall 
they  be  scourged  like  other  men."  "  They  are  filled  with  hidden  things ; 
they  are  full  of  children,  and  leave  what  remains  of  them  to  their  little 
ones."  "  Their  houses  are  secure  and  at  peace,  neither  is  the  rod  of  God 
upon  them.  Their  little  ones  go  out  like  a  flock,  and  their  children 
dance  and  play.  They  take  the  timbrel  and  the  harp,  and  rejoice  at  the 
sound  of  the  organ.  They  spend  their  days  in  good,  and  in  a  moment 
they  go  down  to  hell."  So  was  it  with  Jerusalem,  when  God  had  de- 
serted it ;  it  seemed  never  so  prosperous  before.  Herod  the  king  had 
lately  rebuilt  the  Temple ;  and  the  marbles  with  which  it  was  cased  were 
wonderful  for  size  and  beauty,  and  it  rose  bright  and  glittering  in  the 
morning  sun.  The  disciples  called  their  Lord  to  look  at  it,  but  He  did 
but  see  in  it  the  whited  sepulchre  of  a  reprobate  people,  and  foretold  its 
overthrow.  "  See  ye  all  these  things  ?  "  He  answered  them,  "  Amen,  I 
say  to  you,  stone  shall  not  be  here  left  upon  stone,  which  shall  not  be 
thrown  down."  And  "  He  beheld  the  city,  and  wept  over  it,  saying.  If  thou 
hadst  known,  even  thou,  and  in  this  thy  day,  the  things  that  are  for  thy 
peace,  but  now  they  are  hidden  from  thine  eyes ! "  Hid,  indeed,  was  her 
doom ;  for  millions  crowded  within  the  guilty  city  at  her  yearly  festival, 
and  her  end  seemed  a  long  way  off,  and  ruin  to  belong  to  a  far  future  age, 
when  it  was  at  the  door, 

O  the  change,  my  brethren,  the  dismal  change  at  last  when  the  sen- 
tence has  gone  forth,  and  life  ends,  and  eternal  death  begins !  The  poor 
sinner  has  gone  on  so  long  in  sin,  that  he  has  forgotten  he  has  sin  to  re- 
pent of.  He  has  learned  to  forget  that  he  is  living  in  a  state  of  enmity 
to  God.  He  no  longer  makes  excuses,  as  he  did  at  first.  He  lives  in  the 
world,  and  believes  nothing  about  the  Sacraments,  nor  puts  any  trust  in 
a  Priest  if  he  falls  in  with  one.  Perhaps  he  has  hardly  ever  heard  the 
Catholic  religion  mentioned  except  for  the  purpose  of  abuse  ;  and  never 
has  spoken  of  it,  but  to  ridicule  it.  His  thoughts  are  taken  up  with  his 
family  and  with  his  occupation  ;  and  if  he  thinks  of  death,  it  is  with  re 
pugnance,  as  what  will  separate  him  from  this  world,  not  with  fear,  as 
what  will  introduce  him  to  another.  He  has  ever  been  strong  and  hale. 
He  has  never  had  an  illness.  His  family  is  long-lived,  and  he  reckons  he 
has  a  long  time  before  him.  His  friends  die  before  him,  and  he  feels 
rather  contempt  at  their  nothingness,  than  sorrow  at  their  departure.    He 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  95 

has  just  married  a  daughter,  or  established  a  son  in  Hfe,  and  he  thinks  of 
retiring  from  his  l^ibors,  except  that  he  is  at  a  loss  to  know  how  he  shall 
employ  himself  when  he  is  out  of  work.  He  cannot  get  himself  to  dwell 
upon  the  thought  of  what  and  where  he  will  be,  when  life  is  over,  or,  if 
he  begins  to  muse  awhile  over  himself  and  his  prospects,  then  he  is  sure 
of  one  thing,  that  the  Creator  is  absolute  and  mere  benevolence,  and  he 
is  indignant  and  impatient  when  he  hears  eternal  punishment  spoken  of. 
And  so  he  fares,  whether  for  a  long  time  or  a  short ;  but  whatever  the 
period,  it  must  have  an  end,  and  at  last  the  end  comes.  Time  has  gone 
forward  noiselessly,  and  comes  upon  him  like  a  thief  in  the  night ;  at 
length  the  hour  of  doom  strikes,  and  he  is  taken  away. 

Perhaps,  however,  he  was  a  Catholic,  and  then  the  very  mercies  of 
God  have  been  perverted  by  him  to  his  ruin.  He  has  rested  on  the 
Sacrarnents,  without  caring  to  have  the  proper  dispositions  for  attending 
them.  At  one  time  he  had  lived  in  neglect  of  religion  altogether ;  but 
there  was  a  date  when  he  felt  a  wish  to  set  himself  right  with  his  Maker; 
so  he  began,  and  has  continued  ever  since,  to  go  to  Confession  and  Com- 
munion at  convenient  intervals.  He  comes  again  and  again  to  the 
Priest ;  he  goes  through  his  sins ;  the  Priest  is  obliged  to  take  his  account 
of  them,  which  is  a  very  defective  account,  and  sees  no  reason  for  not 
giving  him  absolution.  He  is  absolved,  as  far  as  words  can  absolve  him  ; 
he  comes  again  to  the  Priest  when  the  season  comes  round  ;  again  he 
confesses,  and  again  he  has  the  form  pronounced  over  him.  He  falls 
sick,  he  receives  the  last  Sacraments :  he  receives  the  last  rites  of  the 
Church,  and  he  is  lost.  He  is  lost,  because  he  has  never  really  turned  his 
heart  to  God  ;  or,  if  he  had  some  poor  measure  of  contrition  for  a  while, 
it  did  not  last  beyond  his  first  or  second  confession.  He  soon  taught 
himself  to  come  to  the  Sacraments  without  any  contrition  at  all ;  he  de- 
ceived himself,  and  left  out  his  principal  and  most  important  sins.  Some- 
how he  deceived  himself  into  the  notion  that  they  were  not  sins,  or  not 
mortal  sins ;  for  some  reason  or  other  he  was  silent,  and  his  confession 
became  as  defective  as  his  contrition.  Yet  this  scanty  show  of  religion 
was  sufficient  to  soothe  and  stupefy  his  conscience :  so  he  went  on  year 
after  year,  never  making  a  good  confession,  communicating  in  mortal  sin, 
till  he  fell  ill ;  and  then,  I  say,  the  viaticum  and  holy  oil  were  brought  to 
him,  and  he  committed  sacrilege  for  his  last  time, — and  so  he  went  to  his 
God. 

O  what  a  moment  for  the  poof  soul,  when  it  comes  to  itself,  and  finds 
itself  suddenly  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ !  O  what  a  moment, 
when,  breathless  with  the  journey,  and  dizzy  with  the  brightness,  and 
overwhelmed  with  the  strangeness  of  what  is  happening  to  him,  and  un- 
able to  realize  where  he  is,  the  sinner  hears  the  voice  of  the  accusing 


96  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

spirit,  bringing  up  all  the  sins  of  his  past  life,  which  he  has  forgotten,  or 
which  he  has  explained  away,  which  he  would  not  allow  to  be  sins, 
though  he  suspected  they  were;  when  he  hears  him  detailing  all  the  mer- 
cies of  God  which  he  has  despised,  all  His  warnings  which  he  has  set  at 
nought,  all  His  judgments  which  he  has  outlived  ;  when  that  evil  one  fol- 
lows out  into  detail  the  growth  and  progress  of  a  lost  soul, — how  it 
expanded  and  was  confirmed  in  sin, — how  it  budded  forth  into  leaves  and 
flowers,  grew  into  branches,  and  ripened  into  fruit, — till  nothing  was 
wanted  for  its  full  condemnation !  And,  O  !  still  more  terrible,  still  more 
distracting,  when  the  Judge  speaks,  and  consigns  it  to  the  jailors,  till  it 
shall  pay  the  endless  debt  which  lies  against  it !  "  Impossible,  I  a  lost 
soul !  I  separated  from  hope  and  from  peace  forever !  It  it  not  I  of 
whom  the  Judge  so  spake  !  There  is  a  mistake  somewhere  ;  Christ,  Sav- 
iour, hold  Thy  hand, — one  minute  to  explain  it !  My  name  is  Demas :  I 
am  but  Demas,  not  Judas,  or  Nicolas,  or  Alexander,  or  Philetus,  or  Dio- 
trephes.  What?  hopeless  pain!  for  me!  impossible,  it  shall  not  be." 
And  the  poor  soul  struggles  and  wrestles  in  the  grasp  of  the  mighty 
demon  which  has  hold  of  it,  and  whose  every  touch  is  torment.  "  Oh, 
atrocious ! "  it  shrieks  in  agony,  and  in  anger  too,  as  if  the  very  keenness 
of  the  affliction  were  a  proof  of  its  injustice.  "  A  second  !  and  a  third  1 
I  can  bear  no  more !  stop,  horrible  fiend,  give  over ;  I  am  a  man,  and  not 
such  as  thou  !  I  am  not  food  for  thee,  or  sport  for  thee !  I  never  was  in 
hell  as  thou,  I  have  not  on  me  the  smell  of  fire,  nor  the  taint  of  the 
charnel-house !  I  know  what  human  feelings  are ;  I  have  been  taught 
religion ;  I  have  had  a  conscience ;  I  have  a  cultivated  mind ;  I  am  well 
versed  in  science  and  art ;  I  have  been  refined  by  literature ;  I  have  haci 
an  eye  for  the  beauties  of  nature ;  I  am  a  philosopher  or  a  poet,  or  a 
shrewd  observer  of  men,  or  a  hero,  or  a  statesman,  or  an  orator,  or  a  man 
of  wit  and  humor.  Nay, — I  am  a  Catholic ;  I  am  not  an  unregenerate 
Protestant ;  I  have  received  the  grace  of  the  Redeemer ;  I  have  attended 
the  Sacraments  for  years ;  I  have  been  a  Catholic  from  a  child ;  I  am  a 
son  of  the  Martyrs;  I  died  in  communion  with  the  Church:  nothing, 
nothing  which  I  have  ever  been,  which  I  have  ever  seen,  bears  any 
resemblance  to  thee,  and  to  the  flame  and  stench  which  exhale  from  thee ; 
so  I  defy  thee,  and  abjure  thee,  O  enemy  of  man  !  " 

Alas  !  poor  soul ;  and  whilst  it  thus  fights  with  that  destiny  which  it 
has  brought  upon  itself,  and  with  those  companions  whom  it  has  chosen, 
the  man's  name  perhaps  is  solemnly  chanted  forth,  and  his  memory 
decently  cherished  among  his  friends  orf  earth.  His  readiness  in  speech, 
his  fertility  in  thought,  his  sagacity,  or  his  wisdom,  are  not  forgotten. 
Men  talk  of  him  from  time  to  time ;  they  appeal  to  his  authority ;  they 
quote  his  words ;  perhaps  they  even  raise  a  monument  to  his  name,  or 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  97 

write  his  history.  "So  comprehensive  a  mind !  such  a  power  of  throwing 
light  on  a  perplexed  subject,  and  bringing  conflicting  ideas  or  facts  into 
harmony ! "  "  Such  a  speech  it  was  that  he  made  on  such  and  such  an 
occasion ;  I  happened  to  be  present,  and  never  shall  forget  it  ";  or,  "  It 
was  the  saying  of  a  very  sensible  man  ";  or,  "  A  great  personage,  whom 
some  of  us  knew  ";  or,  "  It  was  a  rule  with  a  very  worthy  and  excellent 
friend  of  mine,  now  no  more  ";  or,  "  Never  was  his  equal  in  society,  so 
just  in  his  remarks,  so  versatile,  so  unobtrusive  ";  or,  "  I  was  fortunate  to 
see  him  once  when  I  was  a  boy ";  or,  "  So  great  a  benefactor  to  his 
country  and  to  his  kind  !  "  "  His  discoveries  so  great ";  or,  "  His  philos- 
ophy so  profound."  O  vanity  !  vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity  !  What 
profitethit?  What  profiteth  it  ?  His  soul  is  in  hell.  O  ye  children  of 
men,  while  thus  ye  speak,  his  soul  is  in  the  beginning  of  those  torments 
in  which  his  body  will  soon  have  part,  and  which  will  never  die. 

Vanity  of  vanities  !  misery  of  miseries !  they  will  not  attend  to  us, 
they  will  not  believe  us.  We  are  but  a  few  in  number,  and  they  are 
many ;  and  the  many  will  not  give  credit  to  the  few.  O  misery  of  mis- 
eries !  Thousands  are  dying  daily ;  they  are  waking  up  into  God's  ever- 
lasting wrath  ;  they  look  back  on  the  days  of  the  flesh,  and  call  them  few 
and  evil ;  they  despise  and  scorn  the  very  reasonings  which  then  they 
trusted,  and  which  have  been  disproved  by  the  event ;  they  curse  the  reck- 
lessness which  made  them  put  off  repentance  ;  they  have  fallen  under  His 
justice,  whose  mercy  they  presumed  upon  ; — and  their  companions  and 
friends  are  going  on  as  they  did,  and  are  soon  to  join  them.  As  the  last 
generation  presumed,  so  does  the  present.  The  father  would  not  believe 
that  God  could  punish,  and  now  the  son  will  not  believe ;  the  father  was 
indignant  when  eternal  pain  was  spoken  of,  and  the  son  gnashes  his  teeth 
and  smiles  contemptuously.  The  world  spoke  well  of  itself  thirty  years 
ago,  and  so  will  it  thirty  years  to  come.  And  thus  it  is  that  this  vast 
flood  of  life  is  carried  on  from  age  to  age ;  myriads  trifling  with  God's 
love,  tempting  His  justice,  and  like  the  herd  of  swine,  falling  headlong 
down  the  steep !  O  mighty  God  !  O  God  of  love !  it  is  too  much  !  it 
broke  the  heart  of  Thy  sweet  Son  Jesus  to  see  the  misery  of  man  spread 
out  before  His  eyes.  He  died  by  it  as  well  as  for  it.  And  we,  too,  in 
our  measure,  our  eyes  ache,  and  our  hearts  sicken,  and  our  heads  reel, 
when  we  but  feebly  contemplate  it.  O  most  tender  heart  of  Jesus,  why 
wilt  Thou  not  end,  when  wilt  Thou  end,  this  ever-growing  load  of  sin 
and  woe?  When  wilt  Thou  chase  away  the  devil  into  his  own  hell,  and 
close  the  pit's  mouth,  that  Thy  chosen  may  rejoice  in  Thee,  quitting  the 
thought  of  those  who  perish  in  their  wilfulness?  But,  oh  !  by  those  five 
dear  Wounds  in  Hands,  and  Feet,  and  Side — perpetual  founts  of  mercy, 
from  which  the  fulness  of  the  Eternal  Trinity  flows  ever  fresh,  ever  pow- 


98 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


erful,  ever  bountiful  to  all  who  seek  Thee — if  the  world  must  still  endure, 
at  least  gather  Thou  a  larger  and  a  larger  harvest,  an  ampler  proportion 
of  souls  out  of  it  into  Thy  garner,  that  these  latter  times  may,  in  sanctity, 
and  glory,  and  the  triumphs  of  Thy  grace,  exceed  the  former. 

"  Deus  misereatur  nostri,  et  benedicat  nobis  "y  "  God,  have  mercy  on  us, 
and  bless  us ;  and  cause  His  face  to  shine  upon  us,  and  have  mercy  on 
us  ;  that  we  may  know  Thy  way  upon  earth,  Thy  salvation  among  all  the 
nations.  Let  the  people  praise  Thee,  O  God ;  let  all  the  people  praise 
Thee.  Let  the  nations  be  glad,  and  leap  for  joy ;  because  Thou  dost 
judge  the  people  in  equity,  and  dost  direct  the  nations  on  the  earth. 
God,  even  our  God,  bless  us ;  may  God  bless  us,  and  may  all  the  ends  of 
the  earth  fear  Him." 


MEN,  NOT  ANGELS,  THE  PRIESTS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

HEN  Christ,  the  great  Prophet,  the  great  Preacher,  the  great 
Missionary,  came  into  the  world,  He  came  in  a  way  the  most 
holy,  the  most  august,  and  the  most  glorious.  Though  He 
came  in  humiliation,  though  He  came  to  suffer,  though  He 
was  born  in  a  stable,  though  He  was  laid  in  a  manger,  yet  He  issued  from 
the  womb  of  an  Immaculate  Mother,  and  His  infant  form  shone  with 
heavenly  light.  Sanctity  marked  every  lineament  of  His  character  and 
every  circumstance  of  His  mission.  Gabriel  announced  His  incarnation  ; 
a  Virgin  conceived,  a  Virgin  bore,  a  Virgin  suckled  Him  ;  His  foster- 
father  was  the  pure  and  saintly  Joseph  ;  Angels  proclaimed  His  birth  ; 
a  luminous  star  spread  the  news  among  the  heathen  ;  the  austere  Baptist 
went  before  His  face ;  and  a  crowd  of  shriven  penitents,  clad  in  white 
garments  and  radiant  with  grace,  followed  Him  wherever  He  went.  As 
the  sun  in  heaven  shines  through  the  clouds,  and  is  reflected  in  the 
landscape,  so  the  eternal  Sun  of  justice,  when  He  rose  upon  the  earth, 
turned  night  into  day,  and  in  His  brightness  made  all  things  bright. 

He  came  and  He  went ;  and,  seeing  that  He  came  to  introduce  a  new 
and  final  Dispensation  into  the  world,  He  left  behind  Him  preachers, 
teachers,  and  missionaries,  in  His  stead.  Well  then,  my  brethren,  you 
will  say,  since  on  His  coming  all  about  Him  was  so  glorious,  such  as  He 
was,  such  must  His  servants  be,  such  His  representatives,  His  ministers, 
in  His  absence ;  as  He  was  without  sin,  they  too  must  be  without  sin  ; 
as  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  they  must  surely  be  Angels.  Angels,  you 
will  say,  must  be  appointed  to  this  high  office  ;  Angels  alone  are  fit  to 
preach  the  birth,  the  sufferings,  the  death  of  God.  They  might  indeed 
have  to  hide  their  brightness,  as  He  before  them,  their  Lord  and  Master, 
had  put  on  a  disguise ;  they  might  come,  as  they  came  under  the  Old 
Covenant,  in  the  garb  of  men ;  but  still,  men  they  could  not  be,  if  they 
were  to  be  preachers  of  the  everlasting  Gospel,  and  dispensers  of  its  di- 
vine mysteries.  If  they  were  to  sacrifice,  as  He  had  sacrificed  ;  to  con- 
tinue, repeat,  apply,  the  very  Sacrifice  which  He  had  offered  ;  to  take 
into  their  hands  that  very  Victim  which  was  He  Himself  ;  to  bind  and 
to  loose,  to  bless  and  to  ban,  to  receive  the  confessions  of  His  people,  and 
to  give  them  absolution  for  their  sins ;  to  teach  them  the  way  of  truth, 
and  to  guide  them  along  the  way  of  peace ;  who  was  sufficient  for  these 

(99) 


100  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

things  but  an  inhabitant  of  those  blessed  realms  of  which  the  Lord  is 
the  never-failing  Light  ? 

And  yet,  my  brethren,  so  it  is,  He  has  sent  forth  for  the  ministry  of 
reconciliation,  not  Angels,  but  men  ;  He  has  sent  forth  your  brethren  to 
you,  not  beings  of  some  unknown  nature  and  some  strange  blood,  but  of 
your  own  bone  and  your  own  flesh,  to  preach  to  you.  "  Ye  men  of  Gali- 
lee, why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven  ?  "  Here  is  the  royal  style  and 
tone  in  which  Angels  speak  to  men,  even  though  these  men  be  Apostles ; 
it  is  the  tone  of  those  who,  having  never  sinned,  speak  from  their  lofty 
eminence  to  those  who  have.  But  such  is  not  the  tone  of  those  whom 
Christ  has  sent ;  for  it  is  your  brethren  whom  He  has  appointed,  and 
none  else, — sons  of  Adam,  sons  of  your  nature,  the  same  by  nature,  dif- 
fering only  in  grace, — men,  like  you,  exposed  to  temptations,  to  the  same 
temptations,  to  the  same  warfare  within  and  without ;  with  the  same 
three  deadly  enemies — the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  with  the 
same  human,  the  same  wayward  heart :  differing  only  as  the  power 
of  God  has  changed  and  rules  it.  So  it  is ;  we  are  not  Angels  from 
Heaven  that  speak  to  you,  but  men,  whom  grace,  and  grace  alone, 
has  made  to  differ  from  you.  Listen  to  the  Apostle : — When  the 
barbarous  Lycaonians,  seeing  his  miracle,  would  have  sacrificed  to 
him  and  St.  Barnabas,  as  to  gods,  he  rushed  in  among  them,  crying 
out,  "O  men,  why  do  ye  this?  we  also  are  mortals,  men  like  unto 
you ";  or,  as  the  words  run  more  forcibly  in  the  original  Greek 
"  We  are  of  like  passions  with  you."  And  again  to  the  Corinthians  he 
writes,  "  We  preach  not  ourselves,  but  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord;  and  our- 
selves your  servants  through  Jesus.  God,  who  commanded  the  light  to 
shine  out  of  darkness,  He  hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Christ  Jesus ;  but  we 
hold  this  treasure  in  earthen  vessels.'*  And  further,  he  says  of  himself 
most  wonderfully,  that,  "  lest  he  should  be  exalted  by  the  greatness  of 
the  revelations,"  there  was  given  him  "  an  angel  of  Satan  "  in  his  flesh 
"  to  buffet  him."  Such  are  your  Ministers,  your  Preachers,  your  Priests, 
O  my  brethren ;  not  Angels,  not  Saints,  not  sinless,  but  those  who  would 
have  lived  and  died  in  sin  except  for  God's  grace,  and  who,  though 
through  God's  mercy  they  be  in  training  for  the  fellowship  of  Saints 
hereafter,  yet  at  present  are  in  the  midst  of  infirmity  and  temptation,  and 
have  no  hope,  except  from  the  unmerited  grace  of  God,  of  persevering 
unto  the  end. 

What  a  strange,  what  a  striking  anomaly  is  this  !  All  is  perfect,  all  is 
heavenly,  all  is  glorious,  in  the  Dispensation  which  Christ  has  vouchsafed 
us,  except  the  persons  of  His  Ministers.  He  dwells  on  our  altars  Him- 
self, the  Most  Holy,  the  Most  High,  in  light  inaccessible,  and  Angels  fall 


CARDINAL   NEWMAN.  101 

6own  before  Him  there ;  and  out  of  visible  substances  and  forms  He 
chooses  what  is  choicest  to  represent  and  to  hold  Him.  The  finest 
wheat-flour,  and  the  purest  wine,  are  taken  as  His  outward  symbols ;  the 
most  sacred  and  majestic  words  minister  to  the  sacrificial  rite ;  altar  and 
sanctuary  are  adorned  decently  or  splendidly,  as  our  means  allow ;  and 
the  Priests  perform  their  office  in  befitting  vestments,  lifting  up  chaste 
hearts  and  holy  hands ;  yet  those  very  Priests,  so  set  apart,  so  conse- 
crated, they,  with  their  girdle  of  celibacy  and  their  maniple  of  sorrow, 
are  sons  of  Adam,  sons  of  sinners,  of  a  fallen  nature,  which  they  have 
not  put  off,  though  it  be  renewed  through  grace,  so  that  it  is  almost  the 
definition  of  a  Priest  that  he  has  sins  of  his  own  to  offer  for.  "  Every 
high  Priest,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  taken  from  among  men,  is  appointed  for 
men,  in  the  things  that  appertain  unto  God,  that  he  may  offer  gifts  and 
sacrifices  for  sins ;  who  can  condole  with  those  who  are  in  ignorance  and 
error,  because  he  also  himself  is  compassed  with  infirmity.  And  there- 
fore he  ought,  as  for  the  people,  so  also  for  himself,  to  offer  for  sins." 
And  hence  in  the  Mass,  when  he  offers  up  the  Host  before  consecration, 
he  says,  Suscipe,  Sancie  Pater,  Omnipotens,  ceterne  Deus,  "Accept,  Holy 
Father,  Almighty,  Everlasting  God,  this  immaculate  Host,  which  I, 
Thine  unworthy  servant,  offer  to  Thee,  my  Living  and  True  God,  for 
mi7te  innumerable  sins,  offenses,  and  negligences,  and  for  all  who  stand 
around,  and  for  all  faithful  Christians,  living  and  dead." 

Most  strange  is  this  in  itself,  my  brethren,  but  not  strange,  when  you 
consider.it  is  the  appointment  of  an  all-merciful  God;  not  strange  in 
Him,  because  the  Apostle  gives  the  reason  of  it  in  the  passage  I  have 
quoted.  The  priests  of  the  New  Law  are  men,  in  order  that  they  may 
*'  condole  with  those  who  are  in  ignorance  and  error,  because  they  too 
are  compassed  with  infirmity."  Had  Angels  been  your  Priests,  my 
brethren,  they  could  not  have  condoled  with  you,  sympathized  with  you, 
have  had  compassion  on  you,  felt  tenderly  for  you,  and  made  allowances 
for  you,  as  we  can  ;  they  could  not  have  been  your  patterns  and  guides, 
and  have  led  you  on  from  your  old  selves  into  a  new  life,  as  they  can  who 
come  from  the  midst  of  you,  who  have  been  led  on  themselves  as  you  are 
to  be  led,  who  know  well  your  difficulties,  who  have  had  experience,  at 
least  of  your  temptations,  who  know  the  strength  of  the  flesh  and  the 
wiles  of  the  devil,  even  though  they  have  baffled  them,  who  are  already 
disposed  to  take  your  part,  and  be  indulgent  toward  you,  and  can  advise 
you  most  practically,  and  warn  you  most  seasonably  and  prudently. 
Therefore  did  He  send  you  men  to  be  the  ministers  of  reconciliation  and 
intercession ;  as  He  Himself,  though  He  could  not  sin,  yet  even  He,  by 
becoming  man,  took  on  Him,  as  far  as  was  possible  to  God,  man's  burden 
of  infirmity  and  trial  in  His  own  person.     He  could  not  be  a  sinner,  but 


UNlVERfJTTY  OT?  C.AIJFORNIA 


102  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

He  could  be  a  man,  and  He  took  to  Himself  a  man's  heart  that  we  might 
intrust  our  hearts  to  Him,  and  "  was  tempted  in  all  things,  like  as  we  are,, 
yet  without  sin." 

Ponder  this  truth  well,  my  brethren,  and  let  it  be  your  comfort. 
Among  the  Preachers,  among  the  Priests  of  the  Gospel,  there  have  been 
Apostles,  there  have  been  Martyrs,  there  have  been  Doctors ; — Saints  in 
plenty  among  them ;  yet  out  of  them  all,  high  as  has  been  their  sanctity,, 
varied  their  graces,  awful  their  gifts,  there  has  not  been  one  who  did  not 
begin  with  the  old  Adam  ;  not  one  of  them  who  was  not  hewn  out  of  the 
same  rock  as  the  most  obdurate  of  reprobates ;  not  one  of  them  who  was 
not  fashioned  unto  honor  out  of  the  same  clay  which  has  been  the 
material  of  the  most  polluted  and  vile  of  sinners ;  not  one  who  was  not 
by  nature  brother  of  those  poor  souls  who  have  now  commenced  an 
eternal  fellowship  with  the  devil,  and  are  lost  in  hell.  Grace  has  van- 
quished nature ;  that  is  the  whole  history  of  the  Saints.  Salutary 
thought  for  those  who  are  tempted  to  pride  themselves  in  what  they  do, 
and  what  they  are  ;  wonderful  news  for  those  who  sorrowfully  recognize 
in  their  hearts  the  vast  difference  that  exists  between  them  and  the 
Saints ;  and  joyful  news,  when  men  hate  sin,  and  wish  to  escape  from  its 
miserable  yoke,  yet  are  tempted  to  think  it  impossible ! 

Come,  my  brethren,  let  us  look  at  this  truth  more  narrowly,  and  lay  it 
to  heart.  First  consider,  that,  since  Adam  fell,  none  of  his  seed  but  has 
been  conceived  in  sin  ;  none,  save  one.  One  exception  there  has  been, — 
who  is  that  one?  not  our  Lord  Jesus,  for  He  was  not  conceived  of  man,, 
but  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  not  our  Lord  :  but  I  mean  His  Virgin  Mother^ 
who  though  conceived  and  born  of  human  parents,  as  others,  yet  was 
rescued  by  anticipation  from  the  common  condition  of  mankind,  and 
never  was  partaker  in  fact  of  Adam's  transgression.  She  was  conceived 
in  the  way  of  nature,  she  was  conceived  as  others  are ;  but  grace  in- 
terfered and  was  beforehand  with  sin ;  grace  filled  her  soul  from  the 
first  moment  of  her  existence,  so  that  the  evil  one  breathed  not  on  her, 
nor  stained  the  work  of  God.  Tota  pulchra  es,  Maria  ;  et  macula  origi- 
nalis  non  est  in  te.  "  Thou  art  all  fair,  O  Mary,  and  the  stain  original  is 
not  in  thee."  But  putting  aside  the  Most  Blessed  Mother  of  God,  every 
one  else,  the  most  glorious  Saint,  and  the  most  black  and  odious  of  sin- 
ners, I  mean,  the  soul  which,  in  the  event,  became  the  most  glorious,  and 
the  soul  which  became  the  most  devilish,  were  both  born  in  one  and  the 
same  original  sin,  both  were  children  of  wrath,  both  were  unable  to  attain 
heaven  by  their  natural  powers,  both  had  the  prospect  of  meriting  for 
themselves  hell. 

They  were  both  born  in  sin  ;  they  both  lay  in  sin ;  and  the  soul,  which 
afterward  became  a  Saint,  would  have  continued  in  sin,  would  have  sinned 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  103 

wilfully,  and  would  have  been  lost,  but  for  the  visitings  of  an  unmerited 
supernatural  influence  upon  it,  which  did  for  it  what  it  could  not  do  for 
itself.  The  poor  infant,  destined  to  be  an  heir  of  glory,  lay  feeble,  sick- 
ly, fretful,  wayward,  and  miserable ;  the  child  of  sorrow ;  without  hope, 
and  without  heavenly  aid.  So  it  lay  for  many  a  long  and  weary  day  ere 
it  was  born ;  and  when  at  length  it  opened  its  eyes  and  saw  the  light,  it 
shrank  back,  and  wept  aloud  that  it  had  seen  it.  But  God  heard  its  cry 
from  heaven  in  this  valley  of  tears,  and  He  began  that  course  of  mercies 
toward  it  which  led  it  from  earth  to  heaven.  He  sent  His  Priest  to  ad- 
minister to  it  the  first  sacrament,  and  to  baptize  it  with  His  grace.  Then 
a  great  change  took  place  in  it,  for,  instead  of  its  being  any  more  the 
thrall  of  Satan  it  forthwith  became  a  child  of  God ;  and  had  it  died  that 
minute,  and  before  it  came  to  the  age  of  reason,  it  would  have  been 
carried  to  heaven  without  delay  by  Angels,  and  been  admitted  into  the 
presence  of  God. 

But  it  did  not  die ;  it  came  to  the  age  of  reason,  and,  O,  shall  we  dare 
to  say,  though  in  some  blessed  cases  it  may  be  said,  shall  we  dare  to  say, 
that  it  did  not  misuse  the  great  talent  which  had  been  given  to  it,  pro- 
fane the  grace  which  dwelt  in  it,  and  fall  into  mortal  sin  ?  In  some  in- 
stances, praised  be  God !  we  dare  affirm  it ;  such  seems  to  have  been  the 
case  with  my  own  dear  father,  St.  Philip,  who  surely  kept  his  baptismal 
robe  unsullied  from  the  day  he  was  clad  in  it,  never  lost  his  state  of  grace, 
from  the  day  he  was  put  into  it,  and  proceeded  from  strength  to  strength, 
and  from  merit  to  merit,  and  from  glory  to  glory,  through  the  whole 
course  of  his  long  life,  till  at  the  age  of  eighty  he  was  summoned  to  his 
account,  and  went  joyfully  to  meet  it,  and  was  carried  across  purgatory, 
without  any  scorching  of  its  flames,  straight  to  heaven. 

Such  certainly  have  sometimes  been  the  dealings  of  God's  grace  with 
the  souls  of  His  elect;  but  more  commonly,  as  if  more  intimately  to  as- 
sociate them  with  their  brethren,  and  to  make  the  fulness  of  His  favors 
to  them  a  ground  of  hope  and  an  encouragement  to  the  penitent  sinner, 
those  who  have  ended  in  being  miracles  of  sanctity,  and  heroes  in  the 
Church,  have  passed  a  time  in  wilful  disobedience,  have  thrown  them- 
selves out  of  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  have  been  led  captive  by 
this  or  that  sin,  by  this  or  that  religious  error,  till  at  length  they  were  in 
various  ways  recovered,  slowly  or  suddenly,  and  regained  the  state  of 
grace,  or  rather  a  much  higher  state,  than  that  which  they  had  forfeited. 
Such  was  the  blessed  Magdalen,  who  had  lived  a  life  of  shame ;  so  much 
so,  that  even  to  be  touched  by  her  was,  according  to  the  religious  judg- 
ment of  her  day,'a  pollution.  Happy  in  this  world's  goods,  young  and 
passionate,  she  had  given  her  heart  to  the  creature,  before  the  grace  of 
God  prevailed  with  her.     Then  she  cut  off  her  long  hair,  and  put  aside 


104  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

her  gay  apparel,  and  became  so  utterly  what  she  had  not  been,  that,  had 
you  known  her  before  and  after,  you  had  said  it  was  two  persons  you  had 
seen,  not  one ;  for  there  was  no  trace  of  the  sinner  in  the  penitent,  except 
the  affectionate  heart,  now  set  on  heaven  and  Christ ;  no  trace  besides, 
no  memory  of  that  glittering  and  seductive  a'pparition,  in  the  modest 
form,  the  serene  countenance,  the  composed  gait,  and  the  gentle  voice  of 
her  who  in  the  garden  sought  and  found  her  Risen  Saviour.  Such,  too, 
was  he  who  from  a  publican  became  an  Apostle  and  an  Evangelist ;  one 
who  for  filthy  lucre  scrupled  not  to  enter  the  service  of  the  heathen  Ro- 
mans, and  to  oppress  his  own  people.  Nor  were  the  rest  of  the  Apostles 
made  of  better  clay  than  the  other  sons  of  Adam  ;  they  were  by  nature 
animal,  carnal,  ignorant ;  left  to  themselves,  they  would,  like  the  brutes, 
have  grovelled  on  the  earth,  and  gazed  upon  the  earth,  and  fed  on  the 
earth,  had  not  the  grace  of  God  taken  possession  of  them,  and  set  them 
on  their  feet,  and  raised  their  faces  heavenward.  And  such  was  the 
learned  Pharisee,  who  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  well  satisfied  with  his 
station,  jealous  of  his  reputation,  confident  in  his  reason  ;  but  the  time  at 
length  came,  when,  even  though  disciples  fled,  he  remained  to  anoint  the 
abandoned  corpse  of  Him,  whom  when  living  he  had  been  ashamed  to 
own.  You  see  it  was  the  grace  of  God  that  triumphed  in  Magdalen,  in 
Matthew,  and  in  Nicodemus ;  heavenly  grace  came  down  upon  corrupt 
nature ;  it  subdued  impurity  in  the  youthful  woman,  covetousness  in  the 
publican,  fear  of  man  in  the  Pharisee. 

Let  me  speak  of  another  celebrated  conquest  of  God's  grace  in  an 
after  age,  and  you  will  see  how  it  pleases  Him  to  make  a  Confessor,  a 
Saint  and  Doctor  of  His  Church,  out  of  sin  and  heresy  both  together. 
It  was  not  enough  that  the  Father  of  the  Western  Schools,  the  author  of 
a  thousand  works,  the  triumphant  controversialist,  the  especial  champion 
of  grace,  should  have  been  once  a  poor  slave  of  the  flesh,  but  he  was  the 
victim  of  a  perverted  intellect  also.  He,  who  of  all  others,  was  to  extol 
the  grace  of  God,  was  left  more  than  others  to  experience  the  helpless- 
ness of  nature.  The  great  St.  Augustine  (I  am  not  speaking  of  the  holy 
missionary  of  the  same  name,  who  came  to  England  and  converted  our 
pagan  forefathers,  and  became  the  first  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  but  of 
the  great  African  Bishop,  two  centuries  before  him) — Augustine,  I  say, 
not  being  in  earnest  about  his  soul,  not  asking  himself  the  question,  how 
was  sin  to  be  washed  away,  but  rather  being  desirous,  while  youth  and 
strength  lasted,  to  enjoy  the  flesh  and  the  world,  ambitious  and  sensual, 
judged  of  truth  and  falsehood  by  his  private  judgment  and  his  private 
fancy  ;  despised  the  Catholic  Church  because  it  spoke  so  much  of  faith 
and  subjection,  thought  to  make  his  own  reason  the  measure  of  all 
things,  and  accordingly  joined  a  far-spread  sect,  which  affected  to  be 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  105 

philosophical  and  enlightened,  to  take  large  views  of  things,  and  to  cor- 
rect the  vulgar,  that  is  the  Catholic  notions  of  God  and  Christ,  of  sin, 
and  of  the  way  to  heaven.  In  this  sect  of  his  he  remained  for  some 
years ;  yet  what  he  was  taught  there  did  not  satisfy  him.  It  pleased  him 
for  a  time,  and  then  he  found  he  had  been  eating  as  if  food  what  had  no 
nourishment  in  it ;  he  became  hungry  and  thirsty  after  something  more 
substantial,  he  knew  not  what ;  he  despised  himself  for  being  a  slave  to 
the  flesh,  and  he  found  his  religion  did  not  help  him  to  overcome  it ;  thus 
he  understood  that  he  had  not  gained  the  truth,  and  he  cried  out,  "  O, 
who  will  tell  me  where  to  seek  it,  and  who  will  bring  me  into  it  ?  " 

Why  did  he  not  join  the  Catholic  Church  at  once  ?  I  have  told  you 
why ;  he  saw  that  truth  was  nowhere  else ;  but  he  was  not  sure  it  was 
there.  He  thought  there  was  something  mean,  narrow,  irrational,  in  her 
system  of  doctrine ;  he  lacked  the  gift  of  faith.  Then  a  great  conflict 
began  within  him, — the  conflict  of  nature  with  grace;  of  nature  and  her 
children,  the  flesh  and  false  reason,  against  conscience  and  the  pleadings 
of  the  Divine  Spirit,  leading  him  to  better  things.  Though  he  was  still 
in  a  state  of  perdition,  yet  God  was  visiting  him,  and  giving  him  the  first- 
fruits  of  those  influences  which  were  in  the  event  to  bring  him  out  of  it. 
Time  went  on  ;  and  looking  at  him,  as  his  Guardian  Angel  might  look  at 
him,  you  would  have  said  that,  in  spite  of  much  perverseness,  and  many 
a  successful  struggle  against  his  Almighty  Adversary,  in  spite  of  his  still 
being,  as  before,  in  a  state  of  wrath,  nevertheless  grace  was  making  way 
in  his  soul, — he  was  advancing  toward  the  Church.  He  did  not  know  it 
himself,  he  could  not  recognize  it  himself ;  but  an  eager  interest  in  him, 
and  then  a  joy,  was  springing  up  in  heaven  among  the  Angels  of  God. 
At  last  he  came  within  the  range  of  a  great  Saint  in  a  foreign  country ; 
and,  though  he  pretended  not  to  acknowledge  him,  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  him,  and  he  could  not  help  coming  to  sacred  places  to  look 
at  him  again  and  again.  He  began  to  watch  him  and  speculate  about 
him,  and  wondered  with  himself  whether  he  was  happy.  He  found  him- 
self frequently  in  church,  listening  to  the  holy  preacher,  and  he  once 
asked  his  advice  how  to  find  what  he  was  seeking.  And  now  a  final  con- 
flict came  on  him  with  the  flesh :  it  was  hard,  very  hard,  to  part  with  the 
indulgences  of  years,  it  was  hard  to  part  and  never  to  meet  again.  O, 
sin  was  so  sweet,  how  could  he  bid  it  farewell  ?  how  could  he  tear  him- 
self away  from  its  embrace,  and  betake  himself  to  that  lonely  and  dreary 
way  which  led  heavenwards  ?  But  God's  grace  was  sweeter  far,  and  it 
convinced  him  while  it  won  him :  it  convinced  his  reason,  and  prevailed ; 
— and  he  who  without  it  would  have  lived  and  died  a  child  of  Satan,  be- 
came, under  its  wonder-working  power,  an  oracle  of  sanctity  and  truth. 

And  do  you  not  think,  my  brethren,  that  he  was  better  fitted  than 


106  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT, 

another  to  persuade  his  brethren  as  he  had  been  persuaded,  and  to  preach 
the  holy  doctrine  which  he  had  despised?  Not  that  sin  is  better  than 
obedience,  or  the  sinner  than  the  just ;  but  that  God  in  His  mercy  makes 
use  of  sin  against  itself,  that  He  turns  past  sin  into  a  present  benefit, 
that,  while  He  washes  away  its  guilt  and  subdues  its  power,  He  leaves  it 
in  the  penitent  in  such  sense  as  enables  him,  from  his  knowledge  of  its 
devices,  to  assault  it  more  vigorously,  and  strike  at  it  more  truly,  when  it 
meets  him  in  other  men  ;  that,  while  our  Lord,  by  His  omnipotent  grace, 
can  make  the  soul  as  clean  as  if  it  had  never  been  unclean,  He  leaves  it 
in  possession  of  a  tenderness  and  compassion  for  other  sinners,  an  ex- 
perience how  to  deal  with  them,  greater  than  if  it  had  never  sinned ;  and 
again  that,  in  those  rare  and  special  instances,  of  one  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking,  He  holds  up  to  us,  for  our  instruction  and  our  comfort, 
what  He  can  do,  even  for  the  most  guilty,  if  they  sincerely  corqe  to  Him 
for  a  pardon  and  a  cure.  There  is  no  limit  to  be  put  to  the  bounty  and 
power  of  God's  grace ;  and  that  we  feel  sorrow  for  our  sins,  and  supplicate 
His  mercy,  is  a  sort  of  present  pledge  to  us  in  our  hearts,  that  He  will 
grant  us  the  good  gifts  we  are  seeking.  He  can  do  what  He  will  with 
the  soul  of  man.  He  is  infinitely  more  powerful  than  the  foul  spirit  to 
whom  the  sinner  has  sold  himself,  and  can  cast  him  out. 

O  my  dear  brethren,  though  your  conscience  witnesses  against  you,  He 
can  disburden  it ;  whether  you  have  sinned  less  or  whether  you  have 
sinned  more.  He  can  make  you  as  clean  in  His  sight  and  as  acceptable  to 
Him  as  if  you  had  never  gone  from  Him.  Gradually  will  He  destroy 
your  sinful  habits,  and  at  once  will  He  restore  you  to  His  favor.  Such  is 
the  power  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance,  that,  be  your  load  of  guilt 
heavier  or  be  it  lighter,  it  removes  it,  whatever  it  is.  It  is  as  easy  to  Him 
to  wash  out  the  many  sins  as  the  few.  Do  you  recollect  in  the  Old 
Testament  the  history  of  the  cure  of  Naaman  the  Syrian,  by  the  prophet 
Eliseus?  He  had  that  dreadful,  incurable  disease  called  the  leprosy, 
which  was  a  white  crust  upon  the  skin,  making  the  whole  person  hideous, 
and  typifying  the  hideousness  of  sin.  The  prophet  bade  him  bathe  in 
the  river  Jordan,  and  the  disease  disappeared ;  "  his  flesh,"  says  the  in- 
spired writer,  was  "  restored  to  him  as  the  flesh  of  a  little  child."  Here, 
then,  we  have  a  representation  not  only  of  what  sin  is,  but  of  what  God's 
grace  is.  It  can  undo  the  past,  it  can  realize  the  hopeless.  No  sinner, 
ever  so  odious,  but  may  become  a  Saint ;  no  Saint,  ever  so  exalted,  but 
has  been,  or  might  have  been,  a  sinner.  Grace  overcomes  nature,  and 
grace  only  overcomes  it.  Take  that  holy  child,  the  blessed  St.  Agnes, 
who,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  resolved  to  die  rather  than  deny  the  faith, 
and  stood  enveloped  in  an  atmosphere  of  purity,  and  diffused  around  her 
a  heavenly  influence,  in  the  very  home  of  evil  spirits  into  which  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  lOT 

heathen  brought  her;  or  consider  the  angelical  Aloysius,  of  whom  it 
hardly  is  left  upon  record  that  he  committed  even  a  venial  sin ;  or  St. 
Agatha,  St.  Juliana,  St.  Rose,  St.  Casimir,  or  St.  Stanislas,  to  whom  the 
very  notion  of  any  unbecoming  imagination  had  been  as  death ;  well, 
there  is  not  one  of  these  seraphic  souls  but  might  have  been  a  degraded, 
loathsome  leper,  except  for  God's  grace,  an  outcast  from  his  kind ;  not 
one  but  might,  or  rather  would,  have  lived  the  life  of  a  brute  creature, 
and  died  the  death  of  a  reprobate,  and  lain  down  in  hell  eternally  in  the 
devil's  arms,  had  not  God  put  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit  within  him, 
and  made  him  what  he  could  not  make  himself. 

All  good  men  are  not  Saints,  my  brethren — all  converted  souls  do  not 
become  Saints.  I  will  not  promise,  that,  if  you  turn  to  God,  you  will 
reach  that  height  of  sanctity  which  the  Saints  have  reached  : — true ;  still, 
I  am  showing  you  that  even  the  Sairits  are  by  nature  no  better  than  you  ; 
and  so  (much  more)  that  the  Priests,  who  have  the  charge  of  the  faithful, 
whatever  be  their  sanctity,  are  by  nature  no  better  than  those  whom  they 
have  to  convert,  whom  they  have  to  reform.  It  is  God's  special  mercy 
toward  you  that  we  by  nature  are  no  other  than  you  :  it  is  His  considera- 
tion and  compassion  for  you  that  He  has  made  us,  who  are  your  brethren, 
His  legates  and  ministers  of  reconciliation. 

This  is  what  the  world  cannot  understand  ;  not  that  it  does  not  appre- 
hend clearly  enough  that  we  are  by  nature  of  like  passions  with  itself ;  but 
what  it  is  so  blind,  so  narrow-minded  as  not  to  comprehend,  is,  that,  being  so 
like  itself  by  nature,  we  may  be  made  so  different  by  grace.  Men  of  the 
world,  my  brethren,  know  the  power  of  nature  ;  they  know  not,  experience 
not,  believe  not,  the  power  of  God's  grace ;  and  since  they  are  not  them- 
selves acquainted  with  any  power  that  can  overcome  nature,  they  think  that 
none  exists,  and  therefore,  consistently,  they  believe  that  every  one,  Priests 
or  not,  remains  to  the  end  such  as  nature  made  him,  and  they  will  not  believe 
it  possible  that  any  one  can  lead  a  supernatural  life.  Now,  not  Priest  only, 
but  every  one  who  is  in  the  grace  of  God,  leads  a  supernatural  life,  more 
or  less  supernatural,  according  to  his  calling,  and  the  measure  of  the  gifts 
given  him,  and  his  faithfulness  to  them.  This  they  know  not,  and  admit 
not ;  and  when  they  hear  of  the  life  which  a  Priest  must  lead  by  his  pro- 
fession from  youth  to  age,  they  will  not  credit  that  he  is  what  he  pro- 
fesses to  be.  They  know  nothing  of  the  presence  of  God,  the  merits  of 
Christ,  the  intercession  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  ;  the  virtue  of  recurring 
prayers,  of  frequent  confession,  of  daily  Masses ;  they  are  strangers  to  the 
transforming  power  of  the  Most  Holy  Sacrament,  the  Bread  of  Angels; 
they  do  not  contemplate  the  efficacy  of  salutary  rules,  of  holy  compan- 
ions, of  long-enduring  habit,  of  ready  spontaneous  vigilance,  of  abhor- 
rence of  sin  and  indignation  at  the  tempter,  to  secure  the  soul  from  evil. 


108  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

They  only  know  that  when  the  tempter  once  has  actually  penetrated  into 
the  heart,  he  is  irresistible ;  they  only  know  that  when  the  soul  has  ex- 
posed and  surrendered  itself  to  his  malice,  there  is  (so  to  speak)  a  neces- 
sity of  sinning.  They  only  know  that  when  God  has  abandoned  it,  and 
good  Angels  are  withdrawn,  and  all  safeguards,  and  protections,  and  pre- 
ventives are  neglected,  that  then  (which  is  their  own  case),  when  the 
victory  is  all  but  gained  already,  it  is  sure  to  be  gained  altogether.  They 
themselves  have  ever,  in  their  best  estate,  been  all  but  beaten  by  the  Evil 
One  before  they  began  to  fight ;  this  is  the  only  state  they  have  ex- 
perienced ;  they  know  this,  and  they  know  nothing  else.  They  have  never 
stood  on  vantage  ground  ;  they  have  never  been  within  the  walls  of  the 
strong  city,  about  which  the  enemy  prowls  in  vain,  into  which  he  cannot 
penetrate,  and  outside  of  which  the  faithful  soul  will  be  too  wise  to  ven- 
ture. They  judge,  I  say,  by  their  experience,  and  will  not  believe  what 
they  never  knew. 

If  there  be  those  here  present,  my  dear  brethren,  who  will  not  believe 
that  grace  is  effectual  within  the  Church,  because  it  does  little  outside  of 
it,  to  them  I  do  not  speak :  I  speak  to  those  who  do  not  narrow  their 
belief  to  their  experience ;  I  speak  to  those  who  admit  that  grace  can 
make  human  nature  what  it  is  not ;  and  such  persons,  I  think,  will  feel  it, 
not  a  cause  of  jealousy  and  suspicion,  but  a  great  gain,  a  great  mercy, 
that  those  are  sent  to  preach  to  them,  to  receive  their  confessions,  and  to 
advise  them,  who  can  sympathize  with  their  sins,  even  though  they  have 
not  known  them.  Not  a  temptation,  my  brethren,  can  befall  you,  but 
what  befalls  all  those  who  share  your  nature,  though  you  may  have 
yielded  to  it,  and  they  may  not  have  yielded.  They  can  understand  you, 
they  can  anticipate  you,  they  can  interpret  you,  though  they  have  not 
kept  pace  with  you  in  your  course.  They  will  be  tender  to  you,  they 
will  "  instruct  you  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,"  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  con- 
sidering themselves  lest  they  also  be  tempted."  Come  then  unto  us,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls ; 
come  unto  us,  who  now  stand  to  you  in  Christ's  stead,  and  who  speak  in 
Christ's  name ;  for  we  too,  like  you,  have  been  saved  by  Christ's  all- 
saving  blood.  We  too,  like  you,  should  be  lost  sinners,  unless  Christ  had 
had  mercy  on  us,  unless  His  grace  had  cleansed  us,  unless  His  Church  had 
received  us,  unless  His  Saints  had  interceded  for  us.  Be  ye  saved,  as  we 
have  been  saved ;  "  come,  listen,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  we  will  tell  you 
what  He  hath  done  for  our  souls."  Listen  to  our  testimony ;  behold  our 
joy  of  heart,  and  increase  it  by  partaking  in  it  yourselves.  Choose  that 
good  part  which  we  have  chosen ;  join  ye  yourselves  to  our  company ;  it 
will  never  repent  you,  take  our  word  for  it,  who  have  a  right  to  speak,  it 
will  never  repent  you  to  have  sought  pardon  and  peace  from  the  Catholic 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 


109 


Church,  which  alone  has  grace,  which  alone  has  power,  which  alone  has 
Saints ;  it  will  never  repent  you,  though  you  go  through  trouble,  though 
you  have  to  give  up  much  for  her  sake.  It  will  never  repent  you,  to 
have  passed  from  the  shadows  of  sense  and  time,  and  the  deceptions  of 
human  feeling  and  false  reason,  to  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of 
God. 

And  O,  my  brethren,  when  you  have  taken  the  great  step,  and  stand 
in  your  blessed  lot,  as  sinners  reconciled  to  the  Father  you  had  offended 
(for  I  will  anticipate,  what  I  surely  trust  will  be  fulfilled  as  regards  many 
of  you),  O  then  forget  not  those  who  have  been  the  ministers  of  your 
reconciliation  ;  and  as  they  now  pray  you  to  make  your  peace  with  God, 
so  do  you,  when  reconciled,  pray  for  them,  that  they  may  gain  the  great 
gift  of  perseverance,  that  they  may  continue  to  stand  in  the  grace  in 
which  they  trust  they  stand  now,  even  till  the  hour  of  death,  lest,  per- 
chance, after  they  have  preached  to  others,  they  themselves  become 
reprobate. 


PURITY  AND  LOVE. 

E  find  two  especial  manifestations  of  divine  grace  in  the 
human  heart,  whether  we  turn  to  Scripture  for  instances  of  it, 
or  to  the  history  of  the  Church ;  whether  we  trace  it  in  the 
case  of  Saints,  or  in  persons  of  holy  and  rehgious  life ;  and 
the  two  are  even  found  among  our  Lord's  Apostles,  being  represented  by 
the  two  foremost  of  that  favored  company,  St.  Peter  and  St.  John.  St. 
John  is  the  Saint  of  purity,  and  St.  Peter  is  the  Saint  of  love.  Not  that 
love  and  purity  can  ever  be  separated ;  not  as  if  a  Saint  had  not  all  vir- 
tues in  him  at  once ;  not  as  if  St.  Peter  were  not  pure  as  well  as  loving, 
and  St.  John  loving,  for  all  he  was  so  pure.  The  graces  of  the  Spirit 
cannot  be  separated  from  each  other ;  one  implies  the  rest ;  what  is  love 
but  a  delight  in  God,  a  devotion  to  Him,  a  surrender  of  the  whole  self  to 
Him?  what  is  impurity,  on  the  other  hand,  but  the  turning  to  something 
of  this  world,  something  sinful,  as  the  object  of  our  affections  instead  of 
God  ?  What  is  it  but  a  deliberate  abandonment  of  the  Creator  for  the 
creature,  and  seeking  pleasure  in  the  shadow  of  death,  not  in  the  all- 
blissful  Presence  of  light  and  holiness?  The  impure  then  cannot  love 
God ;  and  those  who  are  without  love  of  God  cannot  really  be  pure. 
Purity  prepares  the  soul  for  love,  and  love  confirms  the  soul  in  purity. 
The  flame  of  love  will  not  be  bright  unless  the  substance  which  feeds  it 
be  pure  and  unadulterate ;  and  the  most  dazzling  purity  is  but  as  iciness 
and  desolation  unless  it  draws  its  life  from  fervent  love. 

Yet,  certain  as  this  is,  it  is  certain  also  that  the  spiritual  works  of 
God  show  differently  from  each  other  to  our  eyes,  and  that  they  display, 
in  their  character  and  their  history,  some  of  them  this  virtue  more  than 
other  virtues,  and  some  that.  In  other  words,  it  pleases  the  Giver  of 
grace  to  endue  His  Saints  specially  with  certain  gifts,  for  His  glory, 
which  light  up  and  beautify  one  particular  portion  or  department  of  their 
souls,  so  as  to  cast  their  other  excellences  into  the  shade.  And  then  this 
special  gift  of  grace  becomes  their  characteristic,  and  we  put  it  first  in  our 
thoughts  of  them,  and  consider  what  they  have  besides,  as  included  in  it, 
or  dependent  upon  it,  and  speak  of  them  as  if  they  had  not  the  rest, 
though  we  know  they  really  have  them ;  and  we  give  them  some  title  or 
description  taken  from  that  particular  grace  which  is  so  emphatically 
theirs.  And  in  this  way  we  may  speak,  as  I  intend  to  do  in  what  I  am 
(110) 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  \\\ 

going  to  say,  of  two  chief  classes  of  Saints,  whose  emblems  are  the  lily 
and  the  rose,  who  are  bright  with  angelic  purity  or  who  bum  with  divine 
love. 

The  two  St.  Johns  are  the  great  instances  of  the  Angelic  life.  Whom, 
my  brethren,  can  we  conceive  to  have  such  majestic  and  severe  sanctity 
as  the  Holy  Baptist  ?  He  had  a  privilege  which  reached  near  upon  the 
prerogative  of  the  Most  Blessed  Mother  of  God ;  for,  if  she  was  con- 
ceived without  sin,  at  least  without  sin  he  was  born.  She  was  all-pure, 
all-holy,  and  sin  had  no  part  in  her:  but  St.  John  was  in  the  beginning 
of  his  existence  a  partaker  of  Adam's  curse:  he  lay  under  God's  wrath, 
deprived  of  that  grace  which  Adam  had  received,  and  which  is  the  life 
and  strength  of  human  nature.  Yet,  as  soon  as  Christ,  his  Lord  and 
Saviour,  came  to  him,  and  Mary  saluted  his  own  mother,  Elizabeth,  forth- 
with the  grace  of  God  was  given  to  him,  and  the  original  guilt  was  wiped 
away  from  his  soul.  And  therefore  it  is  that  we  celebrate  the  nativity 
of  St.  John ;  nothing  unholy  does  the  Church  celebrate ;  not  St.  Peter's 
birth,  nor  St.  Paul's,  nor  St.  Augustine's,  nor  St.  Gregory's,  nor  St.  Ber- 
nard's, nor  St.  Aloysius's,  nor  the  nativity  of  any  other  Saint,  however 
glorious,  because  they  were  all  born  in  sin.  She  celebrates  their  conver- 
sions, their  prerogatives,  their  martyrdoms,  their  deaths,  their  transla- 
tions, but  not  their  birth,  because  in  no  case  was  it  holy.  Three  nativi- 
ties alone  does  she  commemorate,  our  Lord's,  His  Mother's,  and  lastly, 
St.  John's.  What  a  special  gift  was  this,  my  brethren,  separating  the 
Baptist  off,  and  distinguishing  him  from  all  prophets  and  preachers,  who 
ever  lived,  however  holy,  except  perhaps  the  prophet  Jeremias !  And 
such  as  was  his  commencement,  was  the  course  of  his  life.  He  was  car- 
ried away  by  the  Spirit  into  the  desert,  and  there  he  lived  on  the  simplest 
fare,  in  the  rudest  clothing,  in  the  caves  of  wild  beasts,  apart  from  men, 
for  thirty  years,  leading  a  life  of  mortification  and  of  prayer,  till  he  was 
called  to  preach  penance,  to  proclaim  the  Christ,  and  to  baptize  Him  ; 
and  then  having  done  his  work,  and  having  left  no  act  of  sin  on  record, 
he  was  laid  aside  as  an  instrument  which  had  lost  its  use,  and  languished 
in  prison,  till  he  was  suddenly  cut  off  by  the  sword  of  the  executioner. 
Sanctity  is  the  one  idea  of  him  impressed  upon  us  from  first  to  last ; 
a  most  marvellous  Saint,  a  hermit  from  his  childhood,  then  a  preacher 
to  a  fallen  people,  and  then  a  Martyr.  Surely  such  a  life  fulfils  that 
expectation  concerning  him  which  follows  on  Mary's  salutation  of  his 
mother  before  his  birth. 

Yet  still  more  beautiful,  and  almost  as  majestic,  is  the  image  of  his 
namesake,  that  great  Apostle,  Evangelist,  and  Prophet  of  the  Church, 
who  came  so  early  into  our  Lord's  chosen  company,  and  lived  so  long 
after  all  his  fellows.    We  can  contemplate  him  in  his  youth  and  in  his  ven- 


112  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

erable  age ;  and  on  his  whole  life,  from  first  to  last,  as  his  special  gift,  is 
marked  purity.  He  is  the  virgin  Apostle,  who  on  that  account  was  so 
dear  to  his  Lord,  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,"  who  lay  on  His 
Bosom,  who  received  His  Mother  from  Him  when  upon  the  Cross,  who 
had  the  vision  of  all  the  wonders  which  were  to  come  to  pass  in  the 
world  to  the  end  of  time.  **  Greatly  to  be  honored,"  says  the  Church, 
"  is  blessed  John,  who  on  the  Lord's  Breast  lay  at  supper,  to  whom,  a 
virgin,  did  Christ  on  the  Cross  commit  His  Virgin  Mother.  He  was 
chosen  a  virgin  by  the  Lord  and  was  more  beloved  than  the  rest.  The 
special  prerogative  of  chastity  had  made  him  meet  for  his  Lord's  larger 
love,  because,  being  chosen  by  Him  a  virgin,  a  virgin  he  remained  unto 
the  end."  He  it  was  who  in  his  youth  professed  his  readiness  to  drink 
Christ's  chalice  with  Him  ;  who  wore  away  a  long  life  as  a  desolate 
stranger  in  a  foreign  land  ;  who  was  at  length  carried  to  Rome  and 
plunged  into  the  hot  oil,  and  then  was  banished  to  a  far  island,  till  his 
days  drew  near  their  close. 

O  how  impossible  it  is  worthily  to  conceive  of  the  sanctity  of  these 
two  great  servants  of  God,  so  different  is  their  whole  history,  in  their 
lives  and  in  their  deaths,  yet  agreeing  together  in  their  seclusion  from  the 
world,  in  their  tranquillity,  and  in  their  all  but  sinlessness !  Mortal  sin 
had  never  touched  them,  and  we  may  well  believe  that  even  from  delib- 
erate venial  sin  they  were  ever  exempt ;  nay,  that  at  particular  seasons  or 
on  certain  occasions  they  did  not  sin  at  all.  The  rebellion  of  the 
reason,  the  waywardness  of  the  feelings,  the  disorder  of  the  thoughts,  the 
fever  of  passion,  the  treachery  of  the  senses,  these  evils  did  the  all-pow- 
erful grace  of  God  subdue  in  them.  They  lived  in  a  world  of  their  own, 
uniform,  serene,  abiding;  in  visions  of  peace,  in  communion  with  heaven, 
in  anticipation  of  glory;  and,  if  they  spoke  to  the  world  without,  as 
preachers  or  as  confessors,  they  spoke  as  from  some  sacred  shrine,  not 
mixing  with  men  while  they  addressed  them,  as  "  a  voice  crying  in  the 
wilderness  "  or  "  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's  Day."  And  therefore  it  is 
we  speak  of  them  rather  as  patterns  of  sanctity  than  of  love,  because  love 
regards  an  external  object,  runs  toward  it  and  labors  for  it,  whereas  such 
Saints  came  so  close  to  the  Object  of  their  love,  they  were  granted  so  to 
receive  Him  into  their  breasts,  and  so  to  make  themselves  one  with  Him, 
that  their  hearts  did  not  so  much  love  heaven  as  were  themselves  a 
heaven,  did  not  so  much  see  light  as  were  light ;  and  they  lived  among 
men  as  those  Angels  in  the  old  time,  who  came  to  the  patriarchs  and 
spake  as  though  they  were  God,  for  God  was  in  them,  and  spake  by  them. 
Thus  these  two  were  almost  absorbed  in  the  Godhead,  living  an  angelical 
life,  as  far  as  man  could  lead  one,  so  calm,  so  still,  so  raised  above  sorrow 
and  fear,  disappointment  and  regret,  desire  and  aversion,  as  to  be  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  113 

most  perfect  images  that  earth  has  seen  of  the  peate  and  immutability  of 
God.  Such  too  are  the  many  virgin  Saints  whom  history  records  for  our 
veneration,  St.  Joseph,  the  great  St.  Antony,  St.  Cecilia  who  was  waited 
on  by  Angels,  St.  Nicolas  of  Bari,  St.  Peter  Celestine,  St.  Rose  of 
Viterbo,  St.  Catharine  of  Sienna,  and  a  host  of  others,  and  above  all,  the 
Virgin  of  Virgins,  and  Queen  of  Virgins,  the  Blessed  Mary,  who,  though 
replete  and  overflowing  with  the  grace  of  love,  yet  for  the  very  reason 
that  she  was  the  "  seat  of  wisdom,"  and  the  "  ark  of  the  covenant,"  is 
more  commonly  represented  under  the  emblem  of  the  lily  than  of  the 
rose. 

But  now,  my  brethren,  let  us  turn  to  the  other  class  of  Saints.  I 
have  been  speaking  of  those  who  in  a  wonderful,  sometimes  in  a  miracu- 
lous way,  have  been  defended  from  sin,  and  conducted  from  strength  to 
strength,  from  youth  till  death  ;  but  now  suppose  it  has  been  the  will  of 
God  to  shed  the  light  and  power  of  His  Spirit  upon  those  who  have 
misused  the  talents,  and  quenched  the  grace  already  given  them,  and  who 
therefore  have  a  host  of  evils  within  them  of  which  they  are  to  be  dis- 
possessed, who  are  under  the  dominion  of  obstinate  habits,  indulged  pas- 
sions, false  opinions  ;  who  have  served  Satan,  not  as  infants  before  their 
baptism,  but  with  their  will,  with  their  reason,  with  their  faculties  respon- 
sible, and  their  hearts  alive  and  conscious.  Is  He  to  draw  these  elect 
souls  to  Him  without  themselves,  or  by  means  of  themselves?  Is  He  to 
change  them  at  His  word,  as  He  created  them,  as  He  will  make  them  die, 
as  He  will  raise  them  from  the  grave,  or  is  He  to  enter  into  their  souls, 
to  address  Himself  to  them,  to  persuade  them,  and  so  to  win  them? 
Doubtless  He  might  have  been  urgent  with  them,  and  masterful ;  He  might 
by  a  blessed  violence  have  come  upon  them,  and  so  turned  them  into  Saints  ; 
He  might  have  superseded  any  process  of  conversion,  and  out  of  the 
very  stones  have  raised  up  children  to  Abraham.  But  He  has  willed 
otherwise  ;  else,  why  did  He  manifest  Himself  on  earth  ?  Why  did  He 
surround  Himself  on  His  coming  with  so  much  that  was  touching  and 
attractive  and  subduing?  Why  did  He  bid  His  angels  proclaim  that  He 
was  to  be  seen  as  a  little  infant,  in  a  manger  and  in  a  Virgin's  bosom,  at 
Bethlehem  ?  Why  did  He  go  about  doing  good  ?  Why  did  He  die  in 
public,  before  the  world,  with  His  mother  and  His  beloved  disciple  by 
Him  ?  Why  does  He  now  tell  us  how  He  is  exalted  in  Heaven  with  a 
host  of  glorified  Saints,  who  are  our  intercessors,  about  His  throne  ? 
Why  does  He  give  us  His  own  Mother  Mary  for  our  mother,  the  most 
perfect  image  after  Himself  of  what  is  beautiful  and  tender,  and  gentle 
and  soothing,  in  human  nature  ?  Why  does  He  manifest  Himself  by  an 
ineffable  condescension  on  our  Altars,  still  humbling  Himself,  though  He 
reigns  on  high  ?     What  does  all  this  show,  but  that,  when  souls  wander 


114  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

away  from  Him,  He  reclaims  them  by  means  of  themselves,  "  by  cords  of 
Adam,"  or  of  human  nature,  as  the  prophet  speaks, — conquering  us  in- 
deed at  His  will,  saving  us  in  spite  of  ourselves, — and  yet  by  ourselves, 
so  that  the  very  reason  and  affections  of  the  old  Adam,  which  have  been 
made  "  the  instruments  of  iniquity  unto  sin,"  should,  under  the  power  of 
His  grace,  become  "  the  instruments  of  justice  unto  God  "? 

Yes,  doubtless  He  draws  us  "  by  cords  of  Adam,"  and  what  are  those 
cords,  but,  as  the  prophet  speaks  in  the  same  verse,  "  the  cords,"  or  "  the 
twine  of  love  "  ?  It  is  the  manifestation  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  Face 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  it  is  that  view  of  the  attributes  and  perfections  of  Al- 
mighty God  ;  it  is  the  beauty  of  His  sanctity,  the  sweetness  of  His  mercy, 
the  brightness  of  His  heaven,  the  majesty  of  His  law,  the  harmony  of 
His  providences,  the  thrilling  music  of  His  voice,  which  is  the  antagonist 
of  the  flesh,  and  the  soul's  champion  against  the  world  and  the  devil. 
"  Thou  hast  seduced  me,  O  Lord,"  says  the  prophet,  "  and  I  was  seduced  ; 
Thou  art  stronger  than  I,  and  hast  prevailed  ";  Thou  hast  thrown  Thy 
net  skilfully,  and  its  subtle  threads  are  entwined  round  each  affection  of 
my  heart,  and  its  meshes  have  been  a  power  of  God,  "  bringing  into 
captivity  the  whole  intellect  to  the  service  of  Christ."  If  the  world  has 
its  fascinations,  so  surely  has  the  Altar  of  the  living  God  ;  if  its  pomps 
and  vanities  dazzle,  so  much  more  should  the  vision  of  Angels  ascending 
and  descending  on  the  heavenly  ladder ;  if  sights  of  earth  intoxicate,  and 
its  music  is  a  spell  upon  the  soul,  behold  Mary  pleads  with  us,  over  against 
them,  with  her  chaste  eyes,  and  offers  the  Eternal  Child  for  our  caress, 
while  sounds  of  cherubim  are  heard  all  round  singing  from  out  the  fulness 
of  the  Divine  Glory.  Has  divine  hope  no  emotion?  Has  divine  charity 
no  transport?  "  How  dear  are  Thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord  of  hosts !  "  says 
the  prophet  ;  "  my  soul  doth  lust,  and  doth  faint  for  the  courts  of  the 
Lord  ;  my  heart  and  my  flesh  have  rejoiced  in  the  living  God.  Better  is 
one  day  in  Thy  courts  above  a  thousand :  I  have  chosen  to  be  an  abject 
in  the  house  of  my  God,  rather  than  to  dwell  in  the  tabernacles  of  sinners." 

So  is  it,  as  a  great  Doctor  and  penitent  has  said,  St.  Augustine  :  "  It 
is  not  enough  to  be  drawn  by  the  will ;  thou  art  also  drawn  by  the  sense 
of  pleasure.  What  is  it  to  be  drawn  by  pleasure  ?  '  Delight  thou  in  the 
Lord,  and  He  will  give  thee  the  petitions  of  thy  heart.'  There  is  a  cer- 
tain pleasure  of  heart,  Ayhen  that  heavenly  Bread  is  sweet  to  a  man. 
Moreover,  if  the  poet  saith,  '  Every  one  is  drawn  by  his  own  pleasure,' 
not  by  necessity,  but  by  pleasure ;  not  by  obligation,  but  by  delight ; 
how  much  more  boldly  ought  we  to  say,  that  man  is  drawn  to 
Christ,  when  he  is  delighted  with  truth,  delighted  with  bliss,  de- 
lighted with  justice,  delighted  with  eternal  life,  all  which  is  Christ  ? 
Have   the   bodily   senses   their   pleasures,  and   is  the  mind  without  its 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  115 

own  ?  If  so,  whence  is  it  said,  '  The  sons  of  men  shall  hope  under 
the  covering  of  Thy  wings ;  they  shall  be  intoxicate  with  the  rich- 
ness of  Thy  house,  and  with  the  torrent  of  Thy  pleasure  shalt  thou  give 
them  to  drink  ;  for  with  Thee  is  the  well  of  life,  and  in  Thy  light  we  shall 
see  light '  ?  *  He,  whom  the  Father  draweth,  cometh  to  Me  *  ?  "  he  con- 
tinues :  "  Whom  hath  the  Father  drawn  ?  him  who  said,  *  Thou  art  Christ, 
the  Son  of  the  living  God.'  You  present  a  green  branch  to  the  sheep, 
and  you  draw  it  forward  ;  fruits  are  offered  to  the  child,  and  he  is  drawn  ; 
in  that  he  runs,  he  is  drawn,  he  is  drawn  by  loving,  drawn  without  bodily 
hurt,  drawn  by  the  bond  of  the  heart.  If  then  it  be  true  that  the  sight 
of  earthly  delight  draws  on  the  lover,  doth  not  Christ  too  draw  us  when 
revealed  by  the  Father  ?  For  what  doth  the  soul  desire  more  strongly 
than  truth  ?  " 

Such  are  the  means  which  God  has  provided  for  the  creation  of  the 
Saint  out  of  the  sinner;  He  takes  him  as  he  is,  and  uses  him  against 
himself :  He  turns  his  affections  into  another  channel,  and  extinguishes  a 
carnal  love  by  infusing  a  heavenly  charity.  Not  as  if  He  used  him  as  a 
mere  irrational  creature,  who  is  impelled  by  instincts  and  governed  by 
external  incitements  without  any  will  of  his  own,  and  to  whom  one 
pleaisure  is  the  same  as  another,  the  same  in  kind,  though  different  in 
degree.  I  have  already  said,  it  is  the  very  triumph  of  His  grace,  that 
He  enters  into  the  heart  of  man,  and  persuades  it,  and  prevails  with  it, 
while  He  changes  it.  He  violates  in  nothing  that  original  constitution 
oi  mind  which  He  gave  to  man :  He  treats  him  as  man ;  He  leaves  him 
the  liberty  of  acting  this  way  or  that ;  He  appeals  to  all  his  powers  and 
faculties,  to  his  reason,  to  his  prudence,  to  his  moral  sense,  to  his  con- 
science :  He  rouses  his  fears  as  well  as  his  love  ;  He  instructs  him  in  the 
depravity  of  sin,  as  well  as  in  the  mercy  of  God  ;  but  still,  on  the  whole, 
the  animating  principle  of  the  new  life,  by  which  it  is  both  kindled  and 
sustained,  is  the  flame  of  charity.  This  only  is  strong  enough  to  destroy 
the  old  Adam,  to  dissolve  the  tyranny  of  habit,  to  quench  the  fires  of 
concupiscence,  and  to  burn  up  the  strongholds  of  pride. 

And  hence  it  is  that  love  is  presented  to  us  as  the  distinguishing 
grace  of  those  who  were  sinners  before  they  were  Saints ;  not  that  love  is 
not  the  life  of  all  Saints,  of  those  who  have  never  needed  a  conversion,  of 
the  Most  Blessed  Virgin,  of  the  two  St.  Johns,  and  of  those  others,  many 
in  number,  who  are  "  first-fruits  unto  God  and  the  Lamb  ";  but  that,  while 
in  those  who  have  never  sinned  gravely,  love  is  so  contemplative  as  al- 
most to  resolve  itself  into  the  sanctity  of  God  Himself ;  in  those,  on  the 
contrary,  in  whom  it  dwells  as  a  principle  of  recovery,  it  is  so  full  of  devo- 
tion, of  zeal,  of  activity,  and  good  works,  that  it  gives  a  visible  character 
to  their  history,  and  is  ever  associating  itself  with  our  thoughts  of  them. 


116  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Such  was  the  great  Apostle,  on  whom  the  Church  is  built,  and  whom 
I  contrasted,  when  I  began,  wMth  his  fellow-Apostle  St.  John :  whether 
we  contemplate  him  after  his  first  calling,  or  on  his  repentance,  he  who 
denied  his  Lord,  out  of  all  the  Apostles,  is  the  most  conspicuous  for  his 
love  of  Him.  It  was  for  this  love  of  Christ,  flowing  on,  as  it  did,  from 
its  impetuosity  and  exuberance,  into  love  of  the  brethren,  that  he  was 
chosen  to  be  the  chief  Pastor  of  the  fold.  "  Simon,  son  of  John,  lovest 
thou  me  more  than  these?"  was  the  trial  put  on  him  by  his  Lord ;  and 
the  reward  was,  "  Feed  my  lambs;  Feed  my  sheep."  Wonderful  to  say, 
the  Apostle  whom  Jesus  loved,  was  yet  surpassed  in  love  for  Jesus  by  a 
brother  Apostle,  not  virginal  as  he;  for  it  is  not  John  of  whom  our  Lord 
asked  this  question,  and  who  was  rewarded  with  this  commission,  but 
Peter. 

Look  back  at  an  earlier  passage  of  the  same  narrative ;  there,  too,  the 
two  Apostles  are  similarly  contrasted  in  their  respective  characters ;  for 
when  they  were  in  the  boat,  and  their  Lord  spoke  to  them  from  the  shore, 
and  "  they  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus/'  first  "  that  disciple,  whom  Jesus 
loved,  said  to  Peter,  It  is  the  Lord,"  for  "  the  clean  of  heart  shall  see 
God  ";  and  then  at  once  "  Simon  Peter,"  in  the  impetuosity  of  his  love, 
"girt  his  tunic  about  him,  and  cast  himself  into  the  sea,"  to  reach  Him 
the  quicker.     St.  John  beholds  and  St.  Peter  acts. 

Thus  the  very  presence  of  Jesus  enkindled  Peter's  heart,  and  at  once 
drew  him  unto  Him  ;  also  at  a  former  time,  when  he  saw  his  Lord  walking 
on  the  sea,  his  very  first  impulse  was,  as  in  the  passage  to  which  I  have 
been  referring,  to  leave  the  vessel  and  hasten  to  His  side:  "  Lord,  if  it  be 
Thou,  bid  me  come  to  Thee  upon  the  waters."  And  when  he  had  been 
betrayed  into  his  great  sin,  the  very  Eye  of  Jesus  brought  him  to  himself: 
"  And  the  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter ;  and  Peter  remembered  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  and  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly."  Hence,  on  another 
occasion,  when  many  of  the  disciples  fell  away,  and  "  Jesus  said  to  the 
twelve.  Do  you  too  wish  to  go  away  ? "  St.  Peter  answered,  "  Lord,  to 
whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life ;  and  we  have 
believed  and  have  known  that  Thou  art  Christ,  the  Son  of  God." 

Such,  too,  was  that  other  great  Apostle,  who,  in  so  many  ways,  is 
associated  with  St.  Peter — the  Doctor  of  the  Gentiles.  He  indeed  was 
converted  miraculously,  by  our  Lord's  appearing  to  him,  when  he  was  on 
his  way  to  carry  death  to  the  Christians  of  Damascus :  but  how  does  he 
speak?  "Whether  we  are  beside  ourselves,"  he  says,  "it  is  to  God;  or 
whether  we  be  sober,  it  is  for  you  :  for  the  charity  of  Christ  constraineth 
us.  If,  therefore,  any  be  a  new  creature  in  Christ,  old  things  have  passed 
away,  behold  all  things  are  made  new."  And  so  again :  "  With  Christ 
am  I  nailed  to  the  cross ;  but  I  live,  yet  no  longer  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in 

.1 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  117 

me ;  and  the  life  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  Himself  for  me."  And  again :  "  I  am  the 
least  of  the  Apostles,  who  am  not  worthy  to  be  called  an  Apostle,  because 
I  persecuted  the  Church  of  God.  But  by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I 
am ;  and  His.  grace  in  me  hath  not  been  void,  but  I  labored  more 
abundantly  than  they  all,  yet  not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  with  me."  And 
once  more :  "  Whether  we  live,  unto  the  Lord  we  live ;  whether  we  die, 
unto  the  Lord  we  die;  whether  we  live  or  whether  we  die,  we  are  the 
Lord's."  You  see,  my  brethren,  the  character  of  St.  Paul's  love ;  it  was 
a  love  fervent,  eager,  energetic,  active,  full  of  great  works,  "  strong  as 
death,"  as  the  inspired  Word  says,  a  flame  which  "  many  waters  could 
not  quench,  nor  the  streams  drown,"  which  lasted  to  the  end,  when  he 
could  say,  **  I  have  fought  the  good  fight,  I  have  finished  the  course,  I 
have  kept  the  faith ;  .henceforth  is  laid  up  for  me  the  crown  of  justice, 
which  the  Lord  will  render  to  me  at  that  day,  the  just  Judge." 

And  there  is  a  third,  my  brethren,  there  is  an  illustrious  third  in 
Scripture,  whom  we  must  associate  with  these  two  great  Apostles,  when 
we  speak  of  the  saints  of  penance  and  love.  Who  is  it  but  the  loving 
Magdalen  ?  Who  is  it  so  fully  instances  what  I  am  showing,  as  "  the 
woman  who  was  a  sinner,"  who  watered  the  Lord's  feet  with  her  tears, 
and  dried  them  with  her  hair,  and  anointed  them  with  precious  oint- 
ment ?  What  a  time  for  such  an  act !  She,  who  had  come  into  the  room, 
as  if  for  a  festive  purpose,  to  go  about  an  act  of  penance !  It  was  a 
formal  banquet,  given  by  a  rich  Pharisee,  to  honor,  yet  to  try,  our  Lord. 
Magdalen  came,  young  and  beautiful,  and  "  rejoicing  in  her  youth," 
"  walking  in  the  ways  of  her  heart  and  the  gaze  of  her  eyes  ":  she  came 
as  if  to  honor  that  feast,  as  women  were  wont  to  honor  such  festive 
dgings,  with  her  sweet  odors  and  cool  unguents  for  the  forehead  and  hair 
of  the  guests.  And  he,  the  proud  Pharisee,  suffered  her  to  come,  so  that 
she  touched  not  him ;  let  her  come  as  we  might  suffer  inferior  animals  to 
enter  our  apartments,  without  caring  for  them  ;  perhaps  suffered  her  as  a 
necessary  embellishment  of  the  entertainment,  yet  as  having  no  soul, 
or  as  destined  to  perdition,  but  anyhow  as  nothing  to  him.  He,  proud 
being,  and  his  brethren  like  him,  might  "  compass  sea  and  land  to  make 
one  proselyte  ";  but,  as  to  looking  into  that  proselyte's  heart,  pitying  its 
sin,  and  trying  to  heal  it,  this  did  not  enter  into  the  circuit  of  his 
thoughts.  No,  he  thought  only  of  the  necessities  of  his  banquet,  and  he 
let  her  come  to  do  her  part,  such  as  it  was,  careless  what  her  life  was,  so 
that  she  did  that  part  well,  and  confined  herself  to  it.  But,  lo,  a  wondrous 
sight !  was  it  a  sudden  inspiration,  or  a  mature  resolve  ?  was  it  an  act  of 
the  moment,  or  the  result  of  a  long  conflict  ? — but  behold,  that  poor, 
many-colored  child  of  guilt  approaches  to  crown  with  her  sweet  ointment 


118  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  head  of  Him  to  whom  the  feast  was  given ;  and  see,  she  has  stayed 
her  hand.  She  has  looked,  and  she  discerns  the  Immaculate,  the  Virgin's 
Son,  "  the  brightness  of  the  Eternal  Light,  and  the  spotless  mirror  of 
God's  majesty."  She  looks,  and  she  recognizes  the  Ancient  of  Days,  the 
Lord  of  life  and  death,  her  Judge;  and  again  she  looks,  and  she  sees  in 
His  face  and  in  His  mien  a  beauty,  and  a  sweetness,  awful,  serene, 
majestic,  more  than  that  of  the  sons  of  men,  which  paled  all  the  splendor 
of  that  festive  room.  Again  she  looks,  timidly  yet  eagerly,  and  she 
discerns  in  His  eye,  and  in  His  smile,  the  loving-kindness,  the  tenderness, 
the  compassion,  the  mercy  of  the  Saviour  of  man.  She  looks  at  herself, 
and  oh !  how  vile,  how  hideous  is  she,  who  but  now  was  so  vain  of  her 
attractions ! — how  withered  is  that  comeliness,  of  which  the  praises  ran 
through  the  mouths  of  her  admirers ! — how  loathsome  has  become  the 
breath,  which  hitherto  she  thought  so  fragrant,  savoring  only  of  those 
seven  bad  spirits  which  dwell  within  her!  And  there  she  would  have^ 
stayed,  there  she  would  have  sunk  on  the  earth,  wrapped  in  her  confusion 
and  In  her  despair,  had  she  not  cast  one  glance  again  on  that  all-loving, 
all-forgiving  Countenance.  He  is  looking  at  her:  it  is  the  Shepherd 
looking  at  the  lost  sheep,  and  the  lost  sheep  surrenders  herself  to  Him. 
He  speaks  not,  but  He  eyes  her;  and  she  draws  nearer  to  Him.  Rejoice, 
ye  Angels,  she  draws  near,  seeing  nothing  but  Him,  and  caring  neither 
for  the  scorn  of  the  proud,  nor  the  jests  of  the  profligate.  She  draws 
near,  not  knowing  whether  she  shall  be  saved  or  not,  not  knowing  whether 
she  shall  be  received,  or  what  will  become  of  her ;  this  only  knowing  that 
He  is  the  Fount  of  holiness  and  truth,  as  of  mercy,  and  to  whom  should 
she  go,  but  to  Him  who  hath  the  words  of  eternal  life?  "  Destruction 
is  thine  own,  O  Israel ;  in  me  only  is  thy  help.  Return  unto  me,  and  I 
will  not  turn  away  my  face  from  thee :  for  I  am  holy,  and  will  not  be 
angry  forever."  "Behold  we  come  unto  Thee;  for  Thou  art  the  Lord 
our  God.  Truly  the  hills  are  false,  and  the  multitude  of  the  mountains : 
Truly  the  Lord  our  God  is  the  salvation  of  Israel."  Wonderful  meeting 
between  what  was  most  base  and  what  is  most  pure !  Those  wanton 
hands,  those  polluted  lips,  have  touched,  have  kissed  the  feet  of  the 
Eternal,  and  He  shrank  not  from  the  homage.  And  as  she  hung  over 
them,  and  as  she  moistened  them  from  her  full  eyes,  how  did  her  love  for 
One  so  great,  yet  so  gentle,  wax  vehement  within  her,  lighting  up  a  flame 
which  never  was  to  die  from  that  moment  even  forever?  and  what  excess 
did  it  reach,  when  He  recorded  before  all  men  her  forgiveness,  and  the 
cause  of  it !  "  Many  sins  are  forgiven  her,  for  she  loved  much ;  but  to 
whom  less  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  less.  And  He  said  unto  her,  Thy 
sins  are  forgiven  thee ;  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  safe,  go  in  peace." 

Henceforth,  my  brethren,  love  was  to  her,  as  to  St.  Augustine  and  to 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  119 

St.  Ignatius  Loyola  afterward  (great  penitents  in  their  own  time),  as  a 
wound  in  the  soul,  so  full  of  desire  as  to  become  anguish.  She  could 
not  live  out  of  the  presence  of  Him  in  whom  her  joy  lay :  her  spirit 
languished  after  Him,  when  she  saw  Him  not ;  and  waited  on  Him 
silently,  reverently,  wistfully,  when  she  was  in  His  blissful  Presence. 
W&  read  of  her  (if  it  was  she),  on  one  occasion,  sitting  at  His  feet  to 
hear  His  words,  and  of  His  testifying  that  she  had  chosen  that  best  part 
which  should  not  be  taken  away  from  her.  And,  after  His  resurrection, 
she,  by  her  perseverance,  merited  to  see  Him  even  before  the  Apostles. 
She  would  not  leave  the  sepulchre,  when  Peter  and  John  retired,  but 
stood  without,  weeping ;  and  when  the  Lord  appeared  to  her,  and  held 
her  eyes  that  she  should  not  know  Him,  she  said  piteously  to  the  sup- 
posed keeper  of  the  garden,  "  Tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  Him,  and  I 
will  take  Him  away."  And  when  at  length  He  made  Himself  known  to 
her,  she  turned  herself,  and  rushad  impetuously  to  embrace  His  feet,  as 
at  the  beginning,  but  He,  as  if  to  prove  the  dutifulness  of  her  love,  for- 
bade her :  "  Touch  me  not,"  He  said,  '  for  I  have  not  yet  ascended  to 
My  Father ;  but  go  to  my  brethren  and  say  to  them,  I  ascend  to  my 
Father  and  your  Father,  to  my  God  and  your  God."  And  so  she  was 
left  to  long  for  the  time  when  she  should  see  Him,  and  hear  His  voice, 
and  enjoy  His  smile,  and  be  allowed  to  minister  to  Him,  forever  in 
heaven. 

Such  then  is  the  second  great  class  of  Saints,  as  viewed  in  contrast 
with  the  first.  Love  is  the  life  of  both  :  but  while  the  love  of  the  inno- 
cent is  calm  and  serene,  the  love  of  the  penitent  is  ardent  and  impetuous, 
commonly  engaged  in  contest  with  the  world,  and  active  in  good  works. 
And  this  is  the  love  which  you,  my  brethren,  must  have  in  your  measure, 
if  you  would  have  a  good  hope  of  salvation.  For  you  were  once  sinners  ; 
either  by  open  and  avowed  contempt  of  religion,  or  by  secret  transgres- 
sion, or  by  carelessness  and  coldness,  or  by  some  indulged  bad  habit,  or 
by  setting  your  heart  on  some  object  of  this  world,  and  doing  your  own 
will  instead  of  God's,  I  think  I  may  say  you  have  needed,  or  now  need,  a 
reconciliation  to  Him.  You  have  needed,  or  you  need,  to  be  brought 
near  to  Him,  and  to  have  your  sins  washed  away  in  His  blood,  and  your 
pardon  recorded  in  Heaven.  And  what  will  do  this  for  you,  but  con- 
trition ?  and  what  is  contrition  without  love?  I  do  not  say  that  you 
must  have  the  love  which  Saints  have,  in  order  to  your  forgiveness,  the 
love  of  St.  Peter  or  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen  ;  but  still  without  your  portion 
of  that  same  heavenly  grace,  how  can  you  be  forgiven  at  all?  If  you 
would  do  works  meet  for  penance,  they  must  proceed  from  a  living  flame 
of  charity.  If  you  would  secure  perseverance  to  the  end,  you  must  gain 
it  by  continual  loving  prayer  to  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  faith  and 


120  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

obedience.  If  you  would  have  a  good  prospect  of  His  acceptance  of  you 
in  your  last  moments,  still  it  is  love  alone  which  secures  His  love,  and 
blots  out  sin.  My  brethren,  at  that  awful  hour  you  may  be  unable  to 
obtain  the  last  Sacraments ;  death  may  come  on  you  suddenly,  or  you 
may  be  at  a  distance  from  a  Priest.  You  may  be  thrown  on  yourselves, 
simply  on  your  own  compunction  of  heart,  your  own  repentance,  your  ovf  n 
resolutions  of  amendment.  You  may  have  been  weeks  and  weeks  at  a  dis- 
tance from  spiritual  aid ;  you  may  have  to  meet  your  God  without  the  safe- 
guard, the  compensation,  the  mediation  of  any  holy  rite ;  and  oh  !  what  will 
save  you  at  such  disadvantage,  but  the  exercise  of  divine  love  *'  poured 
over  your  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost  who  is  given  to  you"?  At  that 
hour  nothing  but  a  firm  habit  of  charity  which  has  kept  you  from  mortal 
sins,  or  a  powerful  act  of  charity  which  blots  them  out,  will  be  of  any 
avail  to  you.  Nothing  but  charity  can  enable  you  to  live  well  or  to  die 
well.  How  can  you  bear  to  lie  down  at  night,  how  can  you  bear  to  go  a 
journey,  how  can  you  bear  the  presence  of  pestilence,  or  the  attack  of 
ever  so  slight  an  indisposition,  if  you  are  ill  provided  in  yourselves  with 
divine  love  against  that  change,  which  will  come  on  you  some  day,  yet 
when  and  how  you  know  not  ?  Alas !  how  will  you  present  yourselves 
before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  with  the  imperfect  mixed  feelings 
which  now  satisfy  you,  with  a  certain  amount  of  faith,  and  trust,  and  fear 
of  God's  judgments,  but  with  nothing  of  that  real  delight  in  Him,  in  His 
attributes,  in  His  will,  in  His  commandments,  in  His  service,  which 
Saints  possess  in  such  fulness,  and  which  alone  can  give  the  soul  a  com- 
fortable title  to  the  merits  of  His  death  and  passion? 

How  different  is  the  feeling  with  which  the  loving  soul,  on  its  separa- 
tion from  the  body,  approaches  the  judgment-seat  of  its  Redeemer!  It 
knows  how  great  a  debt  of  punishment  remains  upon  it,  though  it  has 
for  many  years  been  reconciled  to  Him  ;  it  knows  that  purgatory  lies  be- 
fore it,  and  that  the  best  it  can  reasonably  hope  for  is  to  be  sent  there. 
But  to  see  His  face,  though  for  a  moment!  to  hear  His  voice,  to  hear 
Him  speak,  though  it  be  to  punish !  O  Saviour  of  men,  it  says,  I  come 
to  Thee,  though  it  be  in  order  to  be  at  once  remanded  from  Thee ;  I 
come  to  Thee  who  art  my  Life  and  my  All ;  I  come  to  Thee  on  the 
thought  of  whom  I  have  lived  all  my  life  long.  To  Thee  I  gave  myself 
when  first  I  had  to  take  a  part  in  the  world ;  I  sought  Thee  for  my  chief 
good  early,  for  early  didst  Thou  teach  me,  that  good  elsewhere  there  was 
none.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ?  whom  have  I  desired  on 
earth,  whom  have  I  had  on  earth,  but  Thee?  whom  shall  I  have  amid 
the  sharp  flame  but  Thee  ?  Yea,  though  I  be  now  descending  thither, 
into  "a  land  desert,  pathless  and  without  water,"  I  will  fear  no  ill,  for 
Thou  art  with  me.     I  have  seen  Thee  this  day  face  to  face,  and  it  suf- 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 


121 


ficeth ;  I  have  seen  Thee,  and  that  glance  of  Thine  is  sufficient  for  a  cen- 
tury of  sorrow,  in  the  nether  prison.  I  will  live  on  that  look  of  Thine, 
though  I  see  Thee  not,  till  I  see  Thee  again,  never  to  part  from  Thee. 
That  eye  of  Thine  shall  be  sunshine  and  comfort  to  my  weary,  longing 
soul ;  that  voice  of  Thine  shall  be  everlasting  music  in  my  ears.  Nothing 
can  harm  me,  nothing  shall  discompose  me :  I  will  bear  the  appointed 
years,  till  the  end  comes,  bravely  and  sweetly.  I  will  raise  my  voice,  and 
chant  a  perpetual  Confiteor  to  Thee  and  to  Thy  Saints  in  that  dreary 
valley ; — "  to  God  Omnipotent,  and  to  the  Blessed  Mary  Ever-Virgin," 
(Thy  Mother  and  mine,  immaculate  in  her  conception),  "and  to  blessed 
Michael  Archangel,"  (created  in  his  purity  by  the  very  hand  of  God),  and 
"  to  Blessed  John  Baptist,"  (sanctified  even  in  his  mother's  womb) ;  and 
after  these  three,  "  to  the  Holy  Apostles  Peter  and  Paul,"  (penitents, 
■who  compassionate  the  sinner  from  their  experience  of  sin) ;  "  to  all 
Saints,"  (whether  they  have  lived  in  contemplation  or  in  toil,  during  the 
days  of  their  pilgrimage),  to  all  Saints  will  I  address  my  supplication, 
that  they  may  "  remember  me,  since  it  is  well  with  them,  and  do  mercy 
by  me,  and  make  mention  of  me  unto  the  King  that  He  bring  me  out  of 
prison."  And  then  at  length  "  God  shall  wipe  away  every  tear  from  my 
eyes,  and  death  shall  be  no  longer,  nor  mourning,  nor  crying,  nor  pain 
any  more,  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away." 


■5^ist^&Pil 


SAINTLINESS    THE    STANDARD    OF    CHRISTIAN 

PRINCIPLE. 

jOU  know  very  well,  my  brethren,  and  there  are  few  persons 
anywhere  who  deny  it,  that  in  the  breast  of  every  one  there 
dwells  a  feeling  or  perception,  which  tells  him  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong,  and  is  the  standard  by  which  to 
measure  thoughts  and  actions.  It  is  called  conscience ;  and  even  though 
it  be  not  at  all  times  powerful  enough  to  rule  us,  still  it  is  distinct  and  de- 
cisive enough  to  influence  our  views  and  form  our  judgments  in  the  various 
matters  which  come  before  us.  Yet  even  this  office  it  cannot  perform 
adequately  without  external  assistance;  it  needs  to  be  regulated  and 
sustained.  Left  to  itself,  though  it  tells  truly  at  first,  it  soon  becomes 
wavering,  ambiguous,  and  false ;  it  needs  good  teachers  and  good  ex- 
amples to  keep  it  up  to  the  mark  and  line  of  duty ;  and  the  misery  is, 
that  these  external  helps,  teachers,  and  examples  are  in  many  instances 
wanting. 

Nay,  to  the  great  multitude  of  men  they  are  so  far  wanting  that  con- 
science loses  its  way  and  guides  the  soul  in  its  journey  heavenward  but 
indirectly  and  circuitously.  Even  in  countries  called  Christian,  the  nat- 
ural inward  light  grows  dim,  because  the  Light,  which  lightens  every  one 
born  into  the  world,  is  removed  out  of  sight.  I  say,  it  is  a  most  miserable 
and  frightful  thought,  that,  in  this  country,  among  this  people  which 
boasts  that  it  is  so  Christian  and  so  enlightened,  the  sun  in  the  heavens 
is  so  eclipsed  that  the  mirror  of  conscience  can  catch  and  reflect  few  rays, 
and  serves  but  poorly  and  scantily  to  preserve  the  foot  from  error.  That 
inward  light,  given  as  it  is  by  God,  is  powerless  to  illuminate  the  horizon, 
to  mark  out  for  us  our  direction,  and  to  comfort  us  with  the  certainty 
that  we  are  making  for  our  Eternal  Home.  That  light  was  intended  to 
set  up  within  us  a  standard  of  right  and  of  truth ;  to  tell  us  our  duty  on 
every  emergency,  to  instruct  us  in  detail  what  sin  is,  to  judge  between 
all  things  which  come  before  us,  to  discriminate  the  precious  from  the 
vile,  to  hinder  us  from  being  seduced  by  what  is  pleasant  and  agreeable, 
and  to  dissipate  the  sophisms  of  our  reason.  But,  alas !  what  ideas  of 
truth,  what  ideas  of  holiness,  what  ideas  of  heroism,  what  ideas  of  the 
good  and  great,  have  the  multitude  of  men  ?  I  am  not  asking  whether 
(122) 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  123 

they  act  up  to  any  ideas,  or  are  swayed  by  any  ideas,  of  these  high  ob- 
jects ;  that  is  a  further  point ;  I  only  ask,  have  they  any  ideas  of  them 
at  all?  or,  if  they  cannot  altogether  blot  out  from  their  souls  their  ideas 
of  greatness  and  goodness,  I  ask  still,  whether  their  mode  of  conceiving 
of  them,  and  the  things  and  persons  in  which  they  embody  them,  be 
not  such,  that  we  may  truly  say  of  the  bulk  of  mankind,  that  "  the  light 
that  is  in  them  is  darkness." 

Attend  to  me,  my  dear  brethren,  I  am  saying  nothing  very  abstruse, 
nothing  verj'  difficult  to  understand,  nothing  unimportant ;  but  some- 
thing intelligible,  undeniable,  and  of  very  general  concern.  You  know 
there  are  persons  who  never  see  the  light  of  day ;  they  live  in  pits  and 
mines,  and  there  they  work,  there  they  take  their  pleasure,  and  there 
perhaps  they  die.  Do  you  think  they  have  any  right  idea,  though  they 
have  eyes,  of  the  sun's  radiance,  of  the  sun's  warmth?  any  idea  of  the 
beautiful  arching  heavens,  the  blue  sky,  the  soft  clouds,  and  the  moon 
and  stars  by  night  ?  any  idea  of  the  high  mountain  and  the  green  smiling 
earth  ?  O  what  an  hour  it  is  for  him  who  is  suddenly  brought  from  such 
a  pit  or  cave,  from  the  dull  red  glow  and  the  flickering  glare  of  torches, 
and  that  monotony  of  an  artificial  twilight,  in  which  day  and  night  are 
lost, — is  suddenly,  I  say,  brought  thence,  and  for  the  first  time  sees  the 
bright  sun  moving  majestically  from  east  to  west,  and  witnesses  the 
gradual,  graceful  changes  of  the  air  and  sky  from  morn  till  fragrant  even- 
ing !  And  O  what  a  sight  for  one  born  blind  to  begin  to  see, — a  sense 
altogether  foreign  to  all  his  previous  conceptions !  What  a  marvellous 
new  state  of  being,  which,  though  he  ever  had  the  senses  of  hearing  and  of 
touch,  never  had  he  been  able,  by  the  words  of  others,  or  any  means  of  in- 
formation he  possessed,  to  bring  home  to  himself  in  the  faintest  measure  ! 
Would  he  not  find  himself,  as  it  is  said,  in  a  "  new  world  "?  What  a  revo- 
lution would  take  place  in  his  modes  of  thought,  in  his  habits,  in  his 
ways,  and  in  his  doings  hour  by  hour!  He  would  no  longer  direct  him- 
self with  his  hands  and  his  hearing,  he  would  no  longer  grope  about ;  he 
would  see; — he  would  at  a  glance  take  in  ten  thousand  objects,  and, 
what  is  more,  their  relations  and  their  positions  the  one  toward  the 
other.  He  would  know  what  was  great  and  what  was  little,  what  was 
near,  what  was  distant,  what  things  converged  together,  and  what  things 
were  ever  separate — in  a  word,  he  would  see  all  things  as  a  whole,  and 
in  subjection  to  himself  as  a  centre. 

But  further,  he  would  gain  knowledge  of  something  closer  to  himself 
and  more  personal  than  all  these  various  objects ;  of  something  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  forms  and  groups  in  which  light  dwelt  as  in  a  tabernacle, 
and  which  excited  his  admiration  and  love.  He  would  discover  lying 
upon  him,  spreading  over  him,  penetrating  him,  the  festering  seeds  of 


121  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

unhealthiness  and  disease  in  their  primary  and  minutest  forms.  The  air 
around  us  is  charged  with  a  subtle  powder  or  dust,  which  falls  down  softly 
on  everything,  silently  sheds  itself  on  everything,  soils  and  stains  every- 
thing, and,  if  suffered  to  remain  undisturbed,  induces  sickness  and  en- 
genders pestilence.  It  is  like  those  ashes  of  the  furnace  which  Moses 
was  instructed  to  take  up  and  scatter  in  the  face  of  heaven,  that  they 
might  become  ulcfers  and  blisters  upon  the  flesh  of  the  Egyptians.  This 
subtle  plague  is  felt  in  its  ultimate  consequences  by  all,  the  blind  as 
well  as  those  who  see ;  but  it  is  by  the  eyesight  that  we  discern  it  in  its 
origin  and  in  its  progress ;  it  is  by  the  sun's  light  that  we  discern  our 
own  defilement,  and  the  need  we  have  of  continual  cleansing  to  rid  our- 
selves of  it. 

Now  what  is  this  dust  and  dirt,  my  brethren,  but  a  figure  of  sin  ?  so 
subtle  in  its  approach,  so  multitudinous  in  its  array,  so  incessant  in  its 
solicitations,  so  insignificant  in  its  appearance,  so  odious,  so  poisonous 
in  its  effects.  It  falls  on  the  soul  gently  and  imperceptibly ;  but  it  grad- 
ually breeds  wounds  and  sores,  and  ends  in  everlasting  death.  And  as 
we  cannot  see  the  atoms  of  dust  that  have  settled  on  us  without  the  light, 
and  as  that  same  light,  which  enables  us  to  see  them,  teaches  us  withal, 
by  their  very  contrast  with  itself,  their  unseemliness  and  dishonor,  so  the 
light  of  the  invisible  world,  the  teachings  and  examples  of  revealed  truth, 
bring  home  to  us  both  the  existence  and  also  the  deformity  of  sin,  of 
which  we  should  be  unmindful  or  forgetful  without  them.  And  as  there 
are  men  who  live  in  caverns  and  mines,  and  never  see  the  face  of  day, 
and  do  their  work  as  best  they  can  by  torchlight,  so  there  are  multitudes, 
nay,  whole  races  of  men,  who,  though  possessed  of  eyes  by  nature,  cannot 
use  them  duly,  because  they  live  in  the  spiritual  pit,  in  the  region  of 
darkness,  "  in  the  land  of  wretchedness  and  gloom,  where  there  is  the 
shadow  of  death,  and  where  order  is  not." 

There  they  are  born,  there  they  live,  there  they  die ;  and  instead  of  the 
bright,  broad,  and  all-revealing  luminousness  of  the  sun,  they  grope  their 
way  from  place  to  place  with  torches,  as  best  they  may,  or  fix  up  lamps 
at  certain  points,  and  "  walk  in  the  light  of  their  fire,  and  in  the  flames 
which  they  have  kindled  ";  because  they  have  nothing  clearer,  nothing 
purer,  to  serve  the  needs  of  the  day  and  the  year.  Light  of  some  kind 
they  must  secure,  and,  when  they  can  do  no  better,  they  make  it  for 
themselves.  Man,  a  being  endued  with  reason,  cannot  on  that  very 
account  live  altogether  at  random ;  he  is  obliged  in  some  sense  to  live  on 
principle,  to  live  by  rule,  to  profess  a  view  of  life,  to  have  an  aim,  to  set 
up  a  standard,  and  to  take  to  him  such  examples  as  seem  to  him  to  fulfil 
it.  His  reason  does  not  make  him  independent  (as  men  sometimes 
speak) ;  it  forces  on  him  a  dependency  on  definite  principles  and  laws,  in 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  125 

order  to  satisfy  its  own  demands.  He  must,  by  the  necessity  of  his  nature, 
look  up  to  something;  and  he  creates,  if  he  cannot  discover,  an  object 
for  his  veneration.  He  teaches  himself,  or  is  taught  by  his  neighbor, 
falsehoods,  if  he  is  not  taught  truth  from  above ;  he  makes  to  himself 
idols,  if  he  knows  not  of  the  Eternal  God  and  His  Saints.  Now,  of  which 
of  the  two,  think  you,  my  brethren,  are  our  own  countrymen  in  pos- 
session? have  they  possession  of  the  true  Object  of  worship,  or  have 
they  a  false  one  ?  have  they  created  what  is  not,  or  discovered  what  is  ? 
do  they  walk  by  the  luminaries  of  heaven,  or  are  they  as  those  who  are 
born  and  live  in  caverns,  and  who  strike  their  light  as  best  they  may,  by 
means  of  the  stones  and  metals  of  the  earth  .'* 

Look  around,  my  brethren,  and  answer  for  yourselves.  Contemplate 
the  objects  of  this  people's  praise,  survey  their  standards,  ponder  their 
ideas  and  judgments,  and  then  tell  me  whether  it  is  not  most  evident, 
from  their  very  notion  of  the  desirable  and  the  excellent,  that  greatness, 
and  goodness,  and  sanctity,  and  sublimity,  and  truth  are  unknown  to 
them ;  and  that  they  not  only  do  not  pursue,  but  do  not  even  admire, 
those  high  attributes  of  the  Divine  Nature.  This  is  what  I  am  insisting 
on,  not  what  they  actually  do  or  what  they  are,  but  what  they  revere, 
what  they  adore,  what  their  gods  are.  Their  god  is  mammon ;  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  all  seek  to  be  wealthy,  but  that  all  bow  down  before 
wealth.  Wealth  is  that  to  which  the  multitude  of  men  pay  an  instinctive 
homage.  They  measure  happiness  by  wealth ;  and  by  wealth  they 
measure  respectability.  Numbers,  I  say,  there  are  who  never  dream  that 
they  shall  ever  be  rich  themselves,  but  who  still  at  the  sight  of  wealth  feel 
an  involuntary  reverence  and  awe,  just  as  if  a  rich  man  must  be  a  good 
man.  They  like  to  be  noticed  by  some  particular  rich  man  ;  they  like  on 
some  occasion  to  have  spoken  with  him  ;  they  like  to  know  those  who 
know  him,  to  be  intimate  with  his  dependents,  to  have  entered  his  house, 
nay,  to  know  him  by  sight.  Not,  I  repeat,  that  it  ever  comes  into  their  mind 
that  the  like  Wealth  will  one  day  be  theirs  ;  not  that  they  see  the  wealth, 
for  the  man  who  has  it  may  dress,  and  live,  and  look  like  other  men  ;  not 
that  they  expect  to  gain  some  benefit  from  it :  no,  theirs  is  a  disinterested 
homage,  it  is  a  homage  resulting  from  an  honest,  genuine,  hearty  admi- 
ration of  wealth  for  its  own  sake,  such  as  that  pure  love  which  holy  men 
feel  for  the  Maker  of  all ;  it  is  a  homage  resulting  from  a  profound  faith 
in  wealth,  from  the  intimate  sentiment  of  their  hearts,  that,  however  a 
man  may  look, — poor,  mean,  starved,  decrepit,  vulgar ;  or  again,  though 
he  may  be  ignorant,  or  diseased,  or  feeble-minded,  though  he  have  the 
character  of  being  a  tyrant  or  a  profligate,  yet,  if  he  be  rich,  he  differs 
from  all  others  ;  if  he  be  rich,  he  has  a  gift,  a  spell,  an  omnipotence : — 
that  with  wealth  he  may  do  all  things. 


126  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

Wealth  is  one  idol  of  the  day,  and  notoriety  is  a  second.  I  am  not 
speaking,  I  repeat,  of  what  men  actually  pursue,  but  of  what  they  look 
up  to,  what  they  revere.  Men  may  not  have  the  opportunity  of  pursuing 
what  they  admire  still.  Never  could  notoriety  exist  as  it  does  now,  in 
any  former  age  of  the  world  ;  now  that  the  news  of  the  hour  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  private  news  as  well  as  public,  is  brought  day  by  day 
to  every  individual,  as  I  may  say,  of  the  community,  to  the  poorest 
artisan  and  the  most  secluded  peasant,  by  processes  so  uniform,  so  un- 
varying, so  spontaneous,  that  they  almost  bear  the  semblance  of  a  natural 
law.  And  hence  notoriety,  or  the  making  a  noise  in  the  world,  has  come 
to  be  considered  a  great  good  in  itself,  and  a  ground  of  veneration.  Time 
was  when  men  could  only  make  a  display  by  means  of  expenditure  ;  and 
the  world  used  to  gaze  with  wonder  on  those  who  had  large  establish- 
ments, many  servants,  many  horses,  richly  furnished  houses,  gardens,  and 
parks  :  it  does  so  still,  that  is,  when  it  has  the  opportunity  of  doing  so : 
for  such  magnificence  is  the  fortune  of  the  few,  and  comparatively  few 
are  its  witnesses.  Notoriety,  or,  as  it  may  be  called,  newspaper  fame,  is 
to  the  many  what  style  and  fashion,  to  use  the  language  of  the  world, 
are  to  those  who  are  within  or  belong  to  the  higher  circles  ;  it  becomes 
to  them  a  sort  of  idol,  worshipped  for  its  own  sake,  and  without  any 
reference  to  the  shape  in  which  it  comes  before  them.  It  may  be  an  evil 
fame  or  a  good  fame  ;  it  may  be  the  notoriety  of  a  great  statesman,  or  of 
a  great  preacher,  or  of  a  great  speculator,  or  of  a  great  experimentalist, 
or  of  a  great  criminal ;  of  one  who  has  labored  in  the  improvement  of 
our  schools,  or  hospitals,  or  prisons,  or  workhouses,  or  of  one  who  has 
robbed  his  neighbor  of  his  wife.  It  matters  not;  so  that  a  man  is  talked 
much  of,  and  read  much  of,  he  is  thought  much  of ;  nay,  let  him  even 
have  died  justly  under  the  hands  of  the  law,  still  he  will  be  made  a  sort 
of  martyr  of.  His  clothes,  his  handwriting,  the  circumstances  of  his 
guilt,  the  instruments  of  hi's  deed  of  blood,  will  be  shown  about,  gazed 
on,  treasured  up  as  so  many  relics;  for  the  question  with  men. is,  not 
whether  he  is  great,  or  good,  or  wise,  or  holy ;  not  whether  he  is  base, 
and  vile,  and  odious,  but  whether  he  is  in  the  mouths  of  men,  whether 
he  has  centred  on  himself  the  attention  of  many,  whether  he  has  done 
something  out  of  the  way,  whether  he  has  been  (as  it  were)  canonized  in 
the  publications  of  the  hour.  All  men  cannot  be  notorious :  the  multi- 
tudes who  thus  honor  notoriety,  do  not  seek  it  themselves ;  nor  am  I 
speaking  of  what  men  do,  but  how  they  judge ;  yet  instances  do  occur 
from  time  to  time  of  wretched  men,  so  smitten  with  passion  for  notoriety, 
as  even  to  dare  in  fact  some  detestable  and  wanton  act,  not  from  love  of 
it,  not  from  liking  or  dislike  of  the  person  against  whom  it  is  directed, 
but  simply  in  order  thereby  to  gratify  this  impure  desire  of  being  talked 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  127 

about,  and  gazed  upon.  "  These  are  thy  gods,  O  Israel !  "  Alas !  alas  ! 
this  great  and  noble  people,  born  to  aspire,  born  for  reverence,  behold 
them  walking  to  and  fro  by  the  torch-light  of  the  cavern,  or  pursuing  the 
wild-fires  of  the  marsh,  not  understanding  themselves,  their  destinies, 
their  defilements,  their  needs,  because  they  have  not  the  glorious  lumi- 
naries of  heaven  to  see,  to  consult,  and  to  admire ! 

But  O !  what  a  change,  my  brethren,  when  the  good  hand  of  God 
brings  them  by  some  marvellous  providence  to  the  pit's  mouth,  and  then 
out  into  the  blessed  light  of  day !  what  a  change  for  them  when  they 
first  begin  to  see  with  the  eyes  of  the  soul,  with  the  intuition  which 
grace  gives,  Jesus,  the  Sun  of  Justice ;  and  the  heaven  of  Angels  and 
Archangels  in  which  He  dwells  \  and  the  bright  Morning  Star,  which  is 
His  Blessed  Mother ;  and  the  continual  floods  of  light  falling  and  strik- 
ing against  the  earth,  and  transformed,  as  they  fall,  into  an  infinity  of 
hues,  which  are  His  Saints ;  and  the  boundless  sea,  which  is  the  image  of 
His  divine  immensity;  and  then  again  the  calm,  placid  Moon  by  night, 
which  images  His  Church ;  and  the  silent  stars,  like  good  and  holy  men, 
travelling  on  in  lonely  pilgrimage  to  their  eternal  rest !  Such  was  the 
surprise,  such  the  transport,  which  came  upon  the  favored  disciples, 
whom  on  one  occasion  our  Lord  took  up  with  Him  to  the  mountain's 
top.  He  left  the  sick  world,  the  tormented,  restless  multitude,  at  its 
foot,  and  He  took  them  up,  and  was  transfigured  before  them.  "  His 
face  did  shine  as  the  sun,  and  His  raiment  was  white  as  the  light  ";  and 
they  lifted  their  eyes,  and  saw  on  either  side  of  Him  a  bright  form  ; — 
these  were  two  Saints  of  the  elder  covenant,  Moses  and  Elias,  who  were 
conversing  with  Him.  How  truly  was  this  a  glimpse  of  Heaven!  the 
holy  Apostles  were  introduced  into  a  new  range  of  ideas,  into  a  new 
sphere  of  contemplation,  till  St.  Peter,  overcome  by  the  vision,  cried  out, 
"  Lord,  it  is  good  to  be  here ;  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles."  He 
would  fain  have  kept  those  heavenly  glories  always  with  him  ;  everything 
on  earth,  the  brightest,  the  fairest,  the  noblest,  paled  and  dwindled  away, 
and  turned  to  corruption  before  them ;  its  most  substantial  good  was 
vanity,  its  richest  gain  was  dross,  its  keenest  joy  a  weariness,  and  its  sin  a 
loathsomeness  and  abomination.  And  such  as  this  in  its  measure  is  the 
contrast,  to  which  the  awakened  soul  is  witness,  between  the  objects  of 
its  admiration  and  pursuit  in  its  natural  state,  and  those  which  burst 
upon  it  when  it  has  entered  into  communion  with  the  Church  Invisible, 
when  it  has  come  "  to  Mount  Sion,  and  to  the  city  of  the  Living  God, 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  a  company  of  many  thousand  Angels,  and 
to  the  Church  of  the  first-born,  who  are  enrolled  in  heaven,  and  to  God 
the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  the  just  now  perfected,  and  to  Jesus 
the  Mediator  of  the  New  Testament."     From  that  day  it  has  begun  a 


128  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

new  life :  I  am  not  speaking  of  any  moral  conversion  which  takes  place  in 
it ;  whether  or  not  it  is  moved  (as  surely  we  believe  it  will  be)  to  act  upon 
the  sights  which  it  sees,  still  consider  only  what  a  change  there  will  be  in 
its  views  and  estimation  of  things,  as  soon  as  it  has  heard  and  has  faith  in 
the  word  of  God,  as  soon  as  it  understands  that  wealth,  and  notoriety, 
and  influence,  and  high  place,  are  not  the  first  of  blessings  and  the  real 
standard  of  good ;  but  that  saintliness  and  all  its  attendants, — saintly 
purity,  saintly  poverty,  heroic  fortitude  and  patience,  self-sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  othersj  renouncement  of  the  world,  the  favor  of  Heaven,  the  pro- 
tection of  Angels,  the  smile  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  gifts  of  grace,  the 
interpositions  of  miracle,  the  intercommunion  of  merits, — that  these  are 
the  high  and  precious  things,  the  things  to  be  looked  up  to,  the  things  to 
be  reverently  spoken  of.  Hence  worldly-minded  men,  however  rich,  if 
they  are  Catholics,  cannot,  till  they  utterly  lose  their  faith,  be  the  same 
as  those  who  are  external  to  the  Church ;  they  have  an  instinctive  ven- 
eration for  those  who  have  the  traces  of  heaven  upon  them,  and  they 
praise  what  they  do  not  imitate. 

Such  men  have  an  idea  before  them  which  a  Protestant  nation  has 
not ;  they  have  the  idea  of  a  Saint ;  they  believe,  they  realize  the  exist- 
ence of  those  rare  servants  of  God,  who  rise  up  from  time  to  time  in  the 
Catholic  Church  like  Angels  in  disguise,  and  shed  around  them  a  light, 
as  they  walk  on  their  way  heavenward.  Such  Catholics  may  not  in  prac- 
tice do  what  is  right  and  good,  but  they  know  what  is  true ;  they  know 
what  to  think  and  how  to  judge.  They  have  a  standard  for  their  princi- 
ples of  conduct,  and  it  is  the  image  of  Saints  which  forms  it  for  them.  A 
Saint  is  born  like  another  man ;  by  nature  a  child  of  wrath,  and  needing 
God's  grace  to  regenerate  him.  He  is  baptized  like  another,  he  lies  help- 
less and  senseless  like  another,  and  like  another  child  he  comes  to  years 
of  reason.  But  soon  his  parents  and  their  neighbors  begin  to  say,  "  This 
is  a  strange  child,  he  is  unlike  any  other  child  ";  his  brothers  and  his  play- 
mates feel  an  awe  of  him,  they  do  not  know  why ;  they  both  like  him 
and  dislike  him,  perhaps  love  him  much  in  spite  of  his  strangeness,  per- 
haps respect  him  more  than  they  love  him.  But  if  there  were  any  holy 
Priest  there,  or  others  who  had  long  served  God  in  prayer  and  obedience, 
these  would  say,  "  This  truly  is  a  wonderful  child  ;  this  child  bids  fair  to 
be  a  Saint."  And  so  he  grows  up,  whether  at  first  he  is  duly  prized  by 
his  parents  or  not ;  for  so  it  is  with  all  greatness,  that,  because  it  is  great, 
it  cannot  be  comprehended  by  ordinary  minds  at  once ;  but  time,  and 
distance,  and  contemplation  are  necessary  for  its  being  recognized  by  be- 
holders, and,  therefore,  this  special  heir  of  glory  of  whom  I  am  speaking, 
for  a  time  at  least  excites  no  very  definite  observation,  unless  indeed  (as 
sometimes  happens)  anything  of  miracle  occurs  from  time  to  time  to 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  129 

mark  him  out.  He  has  come  to  the  age  of  reason,  and,  wonderful  to  say, 
he  has  never  fallen  away  into  sin.  Other  children  begin  to  use  the  gift 
of  reason  by  abusing  it ;  they  understand  what  is  right,  only  to  go  counter 
to  it ;  it  is  otherwise  with  him, — not  that  he  may  not  sin  in  many  things, 
when  we  place  him  in  the  awful  ray  of  divine  Sanctity,  but  that  he  does 
not  sin  wilfully  and  grievously, — he  is  preserved  from  mortal  sin,  he  is 
never  separated  from  God  by  sin,  nay,  perhaps,  he  is  betrayed  only  at  in- 
tervals, or  never  at  all,  into  any  deliberate  sin,  be  it  ever  so  slight,  and  he 
is  ever  avoiding  the  occasions  of  sin  and  resisting  temptation.  He  ever 
lives  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  is  thereby  preserved  from  evil,  for  "  the 
wicked  one  toucheth  him  not."  Nor,  again,  as  if  in  other  and  ordinary 
matters,  he  necessarily  differed  from  other  boys;  he  may  be  ignorant, 
thoughtless,  improvident  of  the  future,  rash,  impetuous;  he  is  a  child, 
and  has  the  infirmities,  failings,  fears,  and  hopes  of  a  child.  He  may  be 
moved  to  anger,  he  may  say  a  harsh  word,  he  may  offend  his  parents,  he 
may  be  volatile  and  capricious,  he  may  have  no  fixed  view  of  things,  such 
as  a  man  has.  This  is  not  much  to  allow !  such  things  are  accidents,  and 
are  compatible  with  the  presence  of  a  determinate  influence  of  grace, 
uniting  his  heart  to  God.  O  that  the  multitude  of  men  were  as  religious 
in  their  best  seasons,  as  the  Saints  are  in  their  worst !  though  there  have 
been  Saints  who  seemed  to  have  been  preserved  even  from  the  imperfec- 
tions I  have  been  mentioning.  There  have  been  Saints  whose  reason  the 
all-powerful  grace  of  God  seems  wonderfully  to  have  opened  from  the 
very  time  of  their  baptism,  so  that  they  have  offered  to  their  Lord  and 
Saviour,  "a  living,  holy,  acceptable  sacrifice,"  "a  rational  service,"  even 
while  they  have  been  infants.  And,  anyhow,  whatever  are  the  acts  of 
infirmity  and  sin  in  the  child  I  am  imagining,  still  they  are  the  exception 
in  his  day's  course ;  the  course  of  each  day  is  religious :  while  other  chil- 
dren are  light-minded,  and  cannot. fix  their  thoughts  in  prayer,  prayer  and 
praise  and  meditation  are  his  meat  and  drink.  He  frequents  the  churches, 
and  places  himself  before  the  Blessed  Sacrament :  or  he  is  found  before 
some  holy  image ;  or  he  sees  visions  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or  of  the 
Saints  to  whom  he  is  devoted.  He  lives  in  intimate  converse  with  his 
guardian  Angel,  and  he  shrinks  from  the  very  shadow  of  profaneness  or 
impurity.  And  thus  he  is  a  special  witness  of  the  world  unseen,  and  he 
fulfils  the  vague  ideas  and  the  dreams  of  the  supernatural,  which  one 
reads  of  in  poems  or  romances,  with  which  young  people  are  so  much 
taken,  and  after  which  they  cannot  help  sighing,  before  the  world  cor- 
rupts them. 

He  grows  up,  and  he  has  just  the  same  temptations  as  others,  perhaps 
more  violent  ones.  Men  of  this  world,  carnal  men,  unbelieving  men,  do 
not  believe  that  the  temptations  which  they  themselves  experience,  and 


130  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

.to  which  they  yield,  can  be  overcome.  They  reason  themselves  into  the 
notion  that  to  sin  is  their  very  nature,  and,  therefore,  is  no  fault  of 
theirs :  that  is,  they  deny  the  existence  of  sin.  And  accordingly,  when 
they  read  about  the  Saints  or  about  holy  men  generally,  they  conclude 
either  that  these  have  not  had  the  temptations  which  they  experienced 
themselves,  or  that*they  have  not  overcome  them.  They  either  consider 
such  an  one  to  be  a  hypocrite,  who  practices  in  private  the  sins  which  he 
denounces  in  public ;  or,  if  they  have  decency  enough  to  abstain  from 
these  calumnies,  then  they  consider  that  he  never  felt  the  temptation, 
and  they  regard  him  as  a  cold  and  simple  person,  who  has  never  out- 
grown his  childhood,  who  has  a  contracted  mind,  who  does  not  know  the 
world  and  life,  who  is  despicable  while  he  is  without  influence,  and 
dangerous  and  detestable  from  his  very  ignorance  when  he  is  in  power. 
But  no,  my  brethren ;  read  the  lives  of  the  Saints,  you  will  see  how  false 
and  narrow  a  view  this  is ;  these  men,  who  think,  forsooth,  they  know 
the  world  so  well,  and  the  nature  of  man  so  deeply,  they  know  nothing  of 
one  great  far-spreading  phenomenon  in  man, — and  that  is,  his  nature  un- 
der the  operation  of  grace ;  they  know  nothing  of  the  second  nature,  of 
the  supernatural  gift,  induced  by  the  Almighty  Spirit  upon  our  first  and 
fallen  nature ;  they  have  never  met,  they  have  never  read  of,  and  they 
have  formed  no  conception  of,  a  Saint. 

He  has,  I  say,  the  same  temptations  as  another ;  perhaps  greater,  be- 
cause he  is  to  be  tried  as  in  a  furnace,  because  he  is  to  become  rich  in 
merits,  because  there  is  a  bright  crown  reserved  for  him  in  Heaven  ;  still 
temptation  he  has,  and  he  differs  from  others,  not  in  being  shielded  from 
it,  but  in  being  armed  against  it.  Grace  overcomes  nature  ;  it  overcomes 
indeed  in  all  who  shall  be  saved :  none  will  see  God's  face  hereafter  who 
do  not,  while  here,  put  away  from  them  mortal  sin  of  every  kind ;  but 
the  Saints  overcome  with  a  determination  and  a  vigor,  a  promptitude  and 
a  success,  beyond  any  one  else.  You  read,  my  brethren,  in  the  lives  of 
Saints,  the  wonderful  account  of  their  conflicts,  and  their  triumphs  over 
the  enemy.  They  are,  as  I  was  saying,  like  heroes  of  romance,  so  grace- 
fully, so  nobly,  so  royally  do  they  bear  themselves.  Their  actions  are  as 
beautiful  as  fiction,  yet  as  real  as  fact.  There  was  St.  Benedict,  who, 
when  a  boy,  left  Rome,  and  betook  himself  to  the  Apennines  in  the 
neighborhood.  Three  years  did  he  live  in  prayer,  fasting,  and  solitude, 
while  the  Evil  One  assaulted  him  with  temptation.  One  day,  when  it 
grew  so  fierce  that  he  feared  for  his  perseverance,  he  suddenly  flung  him- 
self, in  his  scanty  hermit's  garb,  among  the  thorns  and  nettles  near  him, 
thus  turning  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and  chastising  the  waywardness 
of  the  flesh,  by  sensible  stings  and  smarts.  There  was  St.  Thomas,  too, 
the  Angelical  Doctor,  as  he  is  called,  as  holy  as  he  was  profound,  or 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  131 

rather  the  more  profound  in  theological  science,  because  he  was  so  holy. 
"  Even  from  a  youth  "  he  had  "  sought  wisdom,  he  had  stretched  out  his 
hands  on  high,  and  directed  his  soul  to  her,  and  possessed  his  heart  with 
her  from  the  beginning  ";  and  so,  when  the  minister  of  Satan  came  into 
his  very  room,  and  no  other  defense  was  at  hand,  he  seized  a  burning 
brand  from  the  hearth,  and  drove  that  wicked  one,  scared  and  baffled,  out 
of  his  presence.  And  there  was  that  poor  youth  in  the  early  persecu- 
tions, whom  the  impious  heathen  bound  down  with  cords,  and  then 
brought  in  upon  him  a  vision  of  evil ;  and  he  in  his  agony  bit  off  his 
tongue,  and  spit  it  out  into  the  face  of  the  temptress,  that  so  the  intense- 
ness  of  the  pain  might  preserve  him  from  the  seduction. 

Such  acts  as  these,  my  brethren,  are  an  opening  of  the  heavens,  a  sud- 
den gleam  of  supernatural  brightness  across  a  dark  sky.  They  enlarge 
the  mind  with  ideas  it  had  not  before,  and  they  show  to  the  multitude 
what  God  can  do,  and  what  man  can  be.  Not  that  all  Saints  have  been 
such  in  youth :  for  there  are  those  on  the  contrary,  who,  not  till  after  a 
youth  of  sin,  have  been  brought  by  the  sovereign  grace  of  God  to  repent- 
ance, still,  when  once  converted,  they  differed  in  nothing  from  those  who 
had  ever  served  Him, — not  in  supernatural  gifts,  not  in  acceptableness, 
not  in  detachment  from  the  world,  nor  in  union  with  Christ,  nor  in  exact- 
ness of  obedience, — in  nought  save  in  the  severity  of  their  penance. 
Others  have  been  called,  not  from  vice  and  ungodliness,  but  from  a  life 
of  mere  ordinary  blamelessness,  or  from  a  state  of  lukewarmness,  or  from 
thoughtlessness,  to  heroical  greatness;  and  these  have  often  given  up 
lands,  and  property,  and  honors,  and  station,  and  repute,  for  Christ's  sake. 
Kings  have  descended  from  their  thrones,  bishops  have  given  up  their 
rank  and  influence,  the  learned  have  given  up  their  pride  of  intellect,  to 
become  poor  monks,  to  live  on  coarse  fare,  to  be  clad  in  humble  weeds, 
to  rise  and  pray  while  others  slept,  to  mortify  the  tongue  with  silence 
and  the  limbs  with  toil,  and  to  avow  an  unconditional  obedience  to  an- 
other. In  early  times  were  the  Martyrs,  many  of  them  girls  and  even 
children,  who  bore  the  most  cruel,  the  most  prolonged,  the  most  diversi- 
fied tortures,  rather  than  deny  the  faith  of  Christ.  Then  came  the  Mis- 
sionaries among  the  heathen,  who,  for  the  love  of  souls,  threw  themselves 
into  the  midst  of  savages,  risking  and  perhaps  losing  their  lives  in  the 
attempt  to  extend  the  empire  of  their  Lord  and  Saviour,  and  who, 
whether  living  or  dying,  have  by  their  lives  or  by  their  deaths  succeeded 
in  bringing  over  whole  nations  into  the  Church.  Others  have  devoted 
themselves  in  the  time  of  war  or  captivity,  to  the  redemption  of  Christian 
slaves  from  pagan  or  Mohammedan  masters  or  conquerors ;  others  to  the 
care  of  the  sick  in  pestilences,  or  in  hospitals;  others  to  the  instruction 
of  the  poor;  others  to  the  education  of  children;  others  to  incessant 


132  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

preaching  and  the  duties  of  the  confessional ;  others  to  devout  study  and 
meditation ;  others  to  a  life  of  intercession  and  prayer.  Very  various  are 
the  Saints,  their  very  variety  is  a  token  of  God's  workmanship ;  but  how- 
ever various,  and  whatever  was  their  special  line  of  duty,  they  have  been 
heroes  in  it ;  they  have  attained  such  noble  self-command,  they  have  so 
crucified  the  flesh,  they  have  so  renounced  the  world ;  they  are  so  meek, 
so  gentle,  so  tender-hearted,  so  merciful,  so  sweet,  so  cheerful,  so  full  of 
prayer,  so  diligent,  so  forgetful  of  injuries ;  they  have  sustained  such 
great  and  continued  pains,  they  have  persevered  in  such  vast  labors,  they 
have  made  such  valiant  confessions^  they  have  wrought  such  abundant 
miracles,  they  have  been  blessed  with  such  strange  successes,  that  they 
have  been  the  means  of  setting  up  a  standard  before  us  of  truth,  of  mag- 
nanimity, of  holiness,  of  love.  They  are  not  always  our  examples,  we 
are  not  always  bound  to  follow  them ;  not  more  than  we  are  bound  to 
obey  literally  some  of  our  Lord's  precepts,  such  as  turning  the  cheek  or 
giving  away  the  coat ;  not  more  than  we  can  follow  the  course  of  the  sun, 
moon,  or  stars  in  the  heavens ;  but,  though  not  always  our  e^camples,  they 
are  always  our  standard  of  right  and  good ;  they  are  raised  up  to  be 
monuments  and  lessons,  they  remind  us  of  God,  they  introduce  us  into 
the  unseen  world,  they  teach  us  what  Christ  loves,  they  track  out  for  us 
the  way  which  leads  heavenward.  They  are  to  us  who  see  them,  what 
wealth,  notoriety,  rank,  and  name  are  to  the  multitude  of  men  who  live  in 
darkness, — objects  of  our  veneration  and  of  our  homage. 

O  who  can  doubt  between  the  two  ?  The  national  religion  has  many 
attractions  ;  it  leads  to  decency  and  order,  propriety  of  conduct,  justness 
of  thought,  beautiful  domestic  tastes ;  but  it  has  not  power  to  lead  the 
multitude  upward,  or  to  delineate  for  them  the  Heavenly  City:  It  comes 
of  mere  nature,  and  its  teaching  is  of  nature.  It  uses  religious  words,  of 
course,  else  it  could  not  be  called  a  religion ;  but  it  does  not  impress  on 
the  imagination,  it  does  not  engrave  upon  the  heart,  it  does  not  inflict 
upon  the  conscience,  the  supernatural ;  it  does  not  introduce  into  the 
popular  mind  any  great  ideas,  such  as  are  to  be  recognized  by  one  and 
all,  as  common  property,  and  first  principles  or  dogmas  from  which  to 
start,  to  be  taken  for  g'-anted  on  all  hands,  and  handed  down  as  forms 
and  specimens  of  eternal  truth  from  age  to  age.  It  in  no  true  sense  in- 
culates  the  Unseen ;  and  by  consequence,  sights  of  this  world,  material 
tangible  objects,  become  the  idols  and  the  ruin  of  its  children,  of  souls 
which  were  made  for  God  and  Heaven.  It  is  powerless  to  resist  the 
world  and  the  world's  teaching :  it  cannot  supplant  error  by  truth ;  it 
follows  when  it  should  lead.  There  is  but  one  real  Antagonist  of  the 
world,  and  that  is  the  faith  of  Catholics  ; — Christ  set  that  faith  up,  and 
it  will  do  its  work  on  earth,  as  it  ever  has  done,  till  He  comes  again. 


I^tfiht  of  CSvacc. 


GOD'S  WILL  THE  END  OF  LIFE. 


AM  going  to  ask  you  a  question,  my  dear  brethren,  so  trite, 
and  therefore  so  uninteresting  at  first .  sight,  that  you  may 
wonder  why  I  put  it,  and  may  object  that  it  will  be  difficult 
to  fix  the  mind  on  it,  and  may  anticipate  that  nothing  profit- 
able can  be  made  of  it.  It  is  this :  "  Why  were  you  sent  into  the 
world  ?  "  Yet,  after  all,  it  is  perhaps  a  thought  more  obvious  than  it  is 
common,  more  easy  than  it  is  familiar;  I  mean  it  ought  to  come  into 
your  minds,  but  it  does  not,  and  you  never  had  more  than  a  distant 
acquaintance  with  it,  though  that  sort  of  acquaintance  with  it  you  have 
had  for  many  years.  Nay,  once  or  twice,  perhaps  you  have  been  thrown 
across  the  thought  somewhat  intimately,  for  a  short  season,  but  this  was 
an  accident  which  did  not  last.  There  are  those  who  recollect  the  first 
time,  as  it  would  seem,  when  it  came  home  to  them.  They  were  but  little 
children,  and  they  were  by  themselves,  and  they  spontaneously  asked 
themselves,  or  rather  God  spake  in  them,  "  Why  am  I  here  ?  how  came  I 
here?  who  brought  me  here?  What  am  I  to  do  here?"  Perhaps  it  was 
the  first  act  of  reason,  the  beginning  of  their  real  responsibility,  the  com- 
mencement of  their  trial  ;  perhaps  from  that  day  they  may  date  their 
capacity,  their  awful  power,  of  choosing  between  good  and  evil,  and  of 
committing  mortal  sin.  And  so,  as  life  goes  on,  the  thought  comes 
vividly,  from  time  to  time,  for  a  short  season  across  their  conscience  ; 
whether  in  illness,  or  in  some  anxiety,  or  at  some  season  of  solitude,  or 
on  hearing  some  preacher,  or  reading  some  religious  work.  A  vivid  feel- 
ing comes  over  them  of  the  vanity  and  unprofitableness  of  the  world,  and 
then  the  question  recurs,  "  Why  then  am  I  sent  into  it  ?  " 

And  a  great  contrast  indeed  does  this  vain,  unprofitable,  yet  overbear- 
ing world  present  with  such  a  question  as  that.  It  seems  out  of  place  to 
ask  such  a  question  in  so  magnificent,  so  imposing  a  presence,  as  that  of 
the  great  Babylon.  The  world  professes  to  supply  all  that  we  need,  as  if 
we  were  sent  into  it  for  the  sake  of  being  sent  here,  and  for  nothing 
beyond  the  sending.  It  is  a  great  favor  to  have  an  introduction  to  this 
august  world.  This  is  to  be  our  exposition,  forsooth,  of  the  mystery  of 
life.  Every  man  is  doing  his  own  will  here,  seeking  his  own  pleasure, 
pursuing  his  own  ends,  and  that  is  why  he  was  brought  into  existence. 
Go  abroad  into  the  streets  of  the  populous  city,  contemplate  the  con- 

(133) 


134  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

tinuous  outpouring  there  of  human  energy,  and  the  countless  varieties  of 
human  character,  and  be  satisfied  !  The  ways  are  thronged,  carriage- 
way and  pavement ;  multitudes  are  hurrying  to  and  fro,  each  on  his  own 
errand,  or  are  loitering  about  from  listlessness,  or  from  want  of  work,  or 
have  come  forth  into  the  public  concourse,  to  see  and  to  be  seen,  for  amuse- 
ment or  for  display,  or  on  the  excuse  of  business.  The  carriages  of  the 
wealthy  mingle  with  the  slow  wains  laden  with  provisions  or  merchandise, 
the  productions  of  art  or  the  demands  of  luxury.  The  streets  are  lined 
with  shops,  open  and  gay,  inviting  customers,  and  widen  now  and  then 
into  some  spacious  square  or  place,  with  lofty  masses  of  brickwork  or  of 
stone,  gleaming  in  the  fitful  sunbeam,  and  surrounded  or  fronted  with 
what  simulates  a  garden's  foliage.  Follow  them  in  another  direction,  and 
you  find  the  whole  groundstead  covered  with  large  buildings,  planted 
thickly  up  and  down,  the  homes  of  the  mechanical  arts.  The  air  is  filled, 
below,  with  a  ceaseless,  importunate,  monotonous  din,  which  penetrates 
even  to  your  most  innermost  chamber,  and  rings  in  your  ears  even  when 
you  are  not  conscious  of  it ;  and  overhead,  with  a  canopy  of  smoke, 
shrouding  God's  day  from  the  realms  of  obstinate  sullen  toil.  This  is 
the  end  of  man  ! 

Or  stay  at  home,  and  take  up  one  of  those  daily  prints,  which  are  so 
true  a  picture  of  the  world ;  look  down  the  columns  of  advertisements, 
and  you  will  see  the  catalogue  of  pursuits,  projects,  aims,  anxieties, 
amusements,  indulgences  which  occupy  the  mind  of  man.  He  plays 
many  parts  :  here  he  has  goods  to  sell,  there  he  wants  employment ;  there 
again  he  seeks  to  borrow  money,  here  he  offers  you  houses,  great  seats  or 
small  tenements ;  he  has  food  for  the  million,  and  luxuries  for  the  wealthy, 
and  sovereign  medicines  for  the  credulous,  and  books,  new  and  cheap,  for 
the  inquisitive.  Pass  on  to  the  news  of  the  day,  and  you  will  learn  what 
great  men  are  doing  at  home  and  abroad :  you  will  read  of  wars  and 
rumors  of  wars  ;  of  debates  in  the  Legislature  ;  of  rising  men,  and  old 
statesmen  going  off  the  scene  ;  of  political  contests  in  this  city  or  that 
county ;  of  the  collision  of  rival  interests.  You  will  read  of  the  money 
market,  and  the  provision  market,  and  the  market  for  metals ;  of  the 
state  of  trade,  the  call  for  manufactures,  news  of  ships  arrived  in  port, 
of  accidents  at  sea,  of  exports  and  imports,  of  gains  and  losses,  of  frauds 
and  thetr  detection.  Go  forward,  and  you  arrive  at  discoveries  in  art  and 
science,  discoveries  (so-called)  in  religion,  the  court  and  royalty,  the  en- 
tertainments of  the  great,  places  of  amusement,  strange  trials,  ofTenses, 
accidents,  escapes,  exploits,  experiments,  contests,  ventures.  O  this 
curious,  restless,  clamorous,  panting  being,  which  we  call  life  ! — and  is 
there  to  be  no  end  to  all  this?  Is  there  no  object  in  it?  It  never  has  an 
end,  it  is  forsooth  its  own  object ! 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  135 

And  now,  once  more,  my  brethren,  put  aside  what  you  see  and  what 
you  read  of  the  world,  and  try  to  penetrate  into  the  hearts,  and  to  reach 
the  ideas  and  the  feelings  of  those  who  constitute  it ;  look  into  them  as 
closely  as  you  can ;  enter  into  their  houses  and  private  rooms  ;  strike  at 
random  through  the  streets  and  lanes  :  take  as  they  come,  palace  and  hovel, 
office  or  factory,  and  what  will  you  find  ?  Listen  to  their  words,  witness, 
alas  !  their  works  ;  you  will  find  in  the  main  the  same  lawless  thoughts, 
the  same  unrestrained  desires,  the  same  ungoverned  passions,  the  same 
earthly  opinions,  the  same  wilful  deeds,  in  high  and  low,  learned  and  un- 
learned ;  you  will  find  them  all  to  be  living  for  the  sake  of  living ;  they 
one  and  all  seem  to  tell  you,  "  We  are  our  own  centre,  our  own  end." 
Why  are  they  toihng?  why  are  they  scheming?  for  what  are  they  living? 
"We  live  to  please  ourselves;  life  is  worthless  except  we  have  our  own 
way ;  we  are  not  sent  here  at  all,  but  we  find  ourselves  here,  and  we  are 
but  slaves  unless  we  can  think  what  we  will,  believe  what  we  will,  love 
what  we  will,  hate  what  we  will,  do  what  we  will.  We  detest  interference 
on  the  part  of  God  or  man.  We  do  not  bargain  to  be  rich  or  to  be  great ; 
but  we  do  bargain,  whether  rich  or  poor,  high  or  low,  to  live  for  ourselves, 
to  live  for  the  lust  of  the  moment,  or,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
hour,  thinking  of  the  future  and  the  unseen  just  as  much  or  as  little  as 
we  please." 

O  my  brethren,  is  it  not  a  shocking  thought,  but  who  can  deny  its  truth  ? 
The  multitude  of  men  are  living  without  any  aim  beyond  this  visible  scene ; 
they  may  from  time  to  time  use  religious  words,  or  they  may  profess  a 
communion  or  a  worship,  as  a  matter  of  course,or  of  expedience,  or  of  duty, 
but,  if  there  was  any  sincerity  in  such  profession,  the  course  of  the  world 
could  not  run  as  it  does.  What  a  contrast  is  all  this  to  the  end  of  life, 
as  it  is  set  before  us  in  our  most  holy  Faith  !  If  there  was  one  among  the 
sons  of  men,  who  might  allowably  have  taken  His  pleasure,  and  have  done 
His  own  will  here  below,  surely  it  was  He  who  came  down  on  earth  from 
the  bosom  of  the  Father,  and  who  was  so  pure  and  spotless  in  that  hu- 
man nature  which  He  put  on  Him,  that  He  could  have  no  human  pur- 
pose or  aim  inconsistent  with  the  will  of  His  Father.  Yet  He,  the  Son 
of  God,  the  Eternal  Word,  came,  not  to  do  His  own  will,  but  His  who 
sent  Him,  as  you  know  very  well  is  told  us  again  and  again  in  Scripture. 
Thus  the  Prophet  in  the  Psalter,  speaking  in  His  person,  says,  "  Lo,  I 
come  to  do  Thy  will,  O  God."  And  He  says  in  the  Prophet  Isaias,  "  The 
Lord  God  hath  opened  mine  ear,  and  I  do  not  resist ;  I  have  not  gone 
back."  And  in  the  Gospel,  when  He  had  come  on  earth,  "  My  food  is  to 
do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His  work."  Hence,  too, 
in  His  agony.  He  cried  out,  "  Not  my  will,  but  Thine,  be  done  ";  and 
St.  Paul,  in  like  manner,  says,  that  "Christ  pleased  not  Himself";  and 


136  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

elsewhere,  that,  "  though  He  was  God's  Son,  yet  learned  He  obedience 
by  the  things  which  He  suffered."  Surely  so  it  was ;  as  being  indeed  the 
Eternal  Co-equal  Son,  His  will  was  one  and  the  same  with  the  Father's 
will,  and  He  had  no  submission  of  will  to  make ;  but  He  chose  to  take 
on  Him  man's  nature,  and  the  will  of  that  nature ;  He  chose  to  take  on 
Him  affections,  feelings,  and  inclinations  proper  to  man,  a  will  innocent 
indeed  and  good,  but  still  a  man's  will,  distinct  from  God's  will ;  a  will, 
which,  had  it  acted  simply  according  to  what  was  pleasing  to  its  nature, 
would,  when  pain  and  toil  were  to  be  endured,  have  held  back  from  an 
active  co-operation  with  the  will  of  God.  But,  though  He  took  on  Him- 
self the  nature  of  man.  He  took  not  on  Him  that  selfishness,  with  which 
fallen  man  wraps  himself  round,  but  in  all  things  He  devoted  Himself  as 
a  ready  sacrifice  to  His  Father.  He  came  on  earth,  not  to  take  His 
pleasure,  not  to  follow  His  taste,  not  for  the  mere  exercise  of  human 
affection,  but  simply  to  glorify  His  Father  and  to  do  His  will.  He  came 
charged  with  a  mission,  deputed  for  a  work ;  He  looked  not  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left,  He  thought  not  of  Himself,  He  offered  Himself  up  to 
God. 

Hence  it  is  that  He  was  carried  in  the  womb  of  a  poor  woman,  who, 
before  His  birth,  had  two  journeys  to  make,  of  love  and  of  obedience,  to 
the  mountains  and  to  Bethlehem.  He  was  born  in  a  stable,  and  laid  in 
a  manger.  He  was  hurried  off  to  Egypt  to  sojourn  there ;  then  He  lived 
till  He  was  thirty  years  of  age  in  a  poor  way,  by  a  rough  trade,  in  a  small 
house,  in  a  despised  town.  Then,  when  He  went  out  to  preach.  He  had 
not  where  to  lay  His  head ;  He  wandered  up  and  down  the  country,  as  a 
stranger  upon  earth.  He  was  driven  out  into  the  wilderness,  and  dwelt 
among  the  wild  beasts.  He  endured  heat  and  cold,  hunger  and  weari- 
ness, reproach  and  calumny.  His  food  was  coarse  bread,  and  fish  from 
the  lake,  or  depended  on  the  hospitality  of  strangers.  And  as  He  had 
already  left  His  Father's  greatness  on  high,  and  had  chosen  an  earthly 
home ;  so  again,  at  that  Father's  bidding.  He  gave  up  the  sole  solace 
given  Him  in  this  world,  and  denied  Himself  His  Mother's  presence. 
He  parted  with  her  who  bore  Him;  He  endured  to  be  strange  to  her; 
He  endured  to  call  her  coldly  "  woman,"  who  was  His  own  undefiled  one, 
all  beautiful,  all  gracious,  the  best  creature  of  His  hands,  and  the  sweet 
nurse  of  His  infancy.  He  put  her  aside,  as  Levi,  His  type,  merited  the 
sacred  ministry,  by  saying  to  His  parents  and  kinsmen,  "  I  know  you 
not."  He  exemplified  in  His  own  person  the  severe  maxim,  which  He 
gave  to  His  disciples,  "  He  that  loveth  mother  more  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me."  In  all  these  many  ways  He  sacrificed  every  wish  of  His 
own ;  that  we  might  understand,  that,  if  He,  the  Creator,  came  into  His 
own  world,  not  for  His  own  pleasure,  but  to  do  His  Father's  will,  we  too 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  137 

have  most  surely  some  work  to  do,  and  have  seriously  to  bethink  our- 
selves what  that  work  is. 

Yes,  so  it  is ;  realize  it,  my  brethren ; — every  one  who  breathes,  high 
and  low,  educated  and  ignorant,  young  and  old,  man  and  woman,  has  a 
mission,  has  a  work.  We  are  not  sent  into  this  world  for  nothing ;  we 
are  not  born  at  random ;  we  are  not  here,  that  we  may  go  to  bed  at 
night,  and  get  up  in  the  morning,  toil  for  our  bread,  eat  and  drink,  laugh 
and  joke,  sin  when  we  have  a  mind,  and  reform  when  we  are  tired  of  sin- 
ning, rear  a  family  and  die.  God  sees  every  one  of  us ;  He  creates  every 
soul,  He  lodges  it  in  the  body,  one  by  one,  for  a  purpose.  He  needs,' 
He  deigns  to  need,  every  one  of  us.  He  has  an  end  for  each  of  us;  we 
are  all  equal  in  His  sight,  and  we  are  placed  in  our  different  ranks  and 
stations,  not  to  get  what  we  can  out  of  them  for  ourselves,  but  to  labor 
in  them  for  Him.  As  Christ  has  His  work,  we  too  have  ours  ;  as  He  re- 
joiced to  do  His  work,  we  must  rejoice  in  ours  also. 

St.  Paul  on  one  occasion  speaks  of  the  world  as  a  scene  in  a  theatre. 
Consider  what  is  meant  by  this.  You  know,  actors  on  a  stage  are  on  an 
equality  with  each  other  really,  but  for  the  occasion  they  assume  a  differ- 
ence of  character ;  some  are  high,  some  are  low,  some  are  merry,  and 
some  sad.  Well,  would  it  not  be  a  simple  absurdity  in  any  actor  to 
pride  himself  on  his  mock  diadem,  or  his  edgeless  sword,  instead  of  at- 
tending to  his  part  ?  what,  if  he  did  but  gaze  at  himself  and  his  dress  ? 
what,  if  he  secreted,  or  turned  to  his  own  use,  what  was  valuable  in  it  ? 
Is  it  not  his  business,  and  nothing  else,  to  act  his  part  well  ?  common 
sense  tells  us  so.  Now,  we  are  all  but  actors  in  this  world  ;  we  are  one 
and  all  equal,  we  shall  be  judged  as  equals  as  soon  as  life  is  over ;  yet, 
equal  and  similar  in  ourselves,  each  has  his  special  part  at  present,  each 
has  his  work,  each  has  his  mission, — not  to  indulge  his  passions,  not  to 
make  money,  not  to  get  a  name  in  the  world,  not  to  save  himself  trouble, 
not  to  follow  his  bent,  not  to  be  selfish  and  self-willed,  but  to  do  what 
God  puts  on  him  to  do. 

Look  at  that  poor  profligate  in  the  Gospel,  look  at  Dives ;  do  you 
think  he  understood  that  his  wealth  was  to  be  spent,  not  on  himself,  but  for 
the  glory  of  God  ? — yet,  for  forgetting  this,  he  was  lost  for  ever  and  ever. 
I  will  tell  you  what  he  thought,  and  how  he  viewed  things : — he  was  a 
young  man,  and  had  succeeded  to  a  good  estate,  and  he  determined  to 
enjoy  himself.  It  did  not  strike  him  that  his  wealth  had  any  other  use 
than  that  of  enabling  him  to  take  his  pleasure.  Lazarus  lay  at  his  gate ; 
he  might  have  relieved  Lazarus ;  that  was  God's  will ;  but  he  managed 
to  put  conscience  aside,  and  he  persuaded  himself  he  should  be  a  fool,  if 
he  did  not  make  the  most  of  this  world,  while  he  had  the  means.  So  he 
resolved   to  have   his  fill  of   pleasure ;  and  feasting  was   to  his  mind  a 


138  ,    DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

principal  part  of  it.  "  He  fared  sumptuously  every  day  ";  everything  be- 
longing to  him  was  in  the  best  style,  as  men  speak ;  his  house,  his  furni-- 
ture,  his  plate  of  silver  and  gold,  his  attendants,  his  establishments. 
Everything  was  for  enjoyment,  and  for  show  too ;  to  attract  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  and  to  gain  the  applause  and  admiration  of  his.  equals,  who 
were  the  companions  of  his  sins.  These  companions  were  doubtless  such 
as  became  a  person  of  such  pretensions ;  they  were  fashionable  men ;  a 
collection  of  refined,  high-bred,  haughty  men,  eating,  not  gluttonously, 
but  what  was  rare  and  costly ;  delicate,  exact,  fastidious  in  their  taste, 
from  their  very  habits  of  indulgence ;  not  eating  for  the  mere  sake  of 
eating,  or  drinking  for  the  mere  sake  of  drinking,  but  making  a  sort  of 
science  of  their  sensuality ;  sensual,  carnal,  as  flesh  and  blood  can  be, 
with  eyes,  ears,  tongue,  steeped  in  impurity,  every  thought,  look,  and 
sense,  witnessing  or  ministering  to  the  evil  one  who  ruled  them ;  yet, 
with  exquisite  correctness  of  idea  and  judgment,  laying  down  rules  for 
sinning ; — heartless  and  selfish,  high,  punctilious,  and  disdainful  in  their 
outward  deportment,  and  shrinking  from  Lazarus,  who  lay  at  the  gate,  as 
an  eyesore,  who  ought  for  the  sake  of  decency  to  be  put  out  of  the  way. 
Dives  was  one  of  such,  and  so  he  lived  his  short  span,  thinking  of  nothing, 
loving  nothing,  but  himself,  till  one  day  he  got  into  a  fatal  quarrel  with 
one  of  his  godless  associates,  or  he  caught  some  bad  illness ;  and  then  he 
lay  helpless  on  his  bed  of  pain,  cursing  fortune  and  his  physician,  that  he 
was  no  better,  and  impatient  that  he  was  thus  kept  from  enjoying  his 
youth,  trying  to  fancy  himself  mending  when  he  was  getting  worse,  and 
disgusted  at  those  who  would  not  throw  him  some  word  of  comfort  in 
his  suspense,  and  turning  more  resolutely  from  his  Creator  in  proportion 
to  his  suffering ; — and  then  at  last  his  day  came,  and  he  died,  and  (oh  ! 
miserable !)  "  was  buried  in  hell."     And  so  ended  he  and  his  mission. 

This  was  the  fate  of  your  pattern  and  idol,  O  ye,  if  any  of  you  be 
present,  young  men,  who,  though  not  possessed  of  wealth  and  rank,  yet 
affect  the  fashions  of  those  who  have  them.  You,  my  brethren,  have  not 
been  born  splendidly  or  nobly ;  you  have  not  been  brought  up  in  the 
seats  of  liberal  education ;  you  have  no  high  connections ;  you  have  not 
learned  the  manners  nor  caught  the  tone  of  good  society ;  you  have  no 
share  of  the  largeness  of  mind,  the  candor,  the  romantic  sense  of  honor, 
the  correctness  of  taste,  the  consideration  for  others,  and  the  gentleness 
which  the  world  puts  forth  as  its  highest  type  of  excellence ;  you  have 
not  come  near  the  courts  or  the  mansions  of  the  great ;  yet  you  ape  the 
sin  of  Dives,  while  you  are  strangers  to  his  refinement.  You  think  it  the 
sign  of  a  gentleman  to  set  yourselves  above  religion,  to  criticise  the  re- 
ligious and  professors  of  religion,  to  look  at  Catholic  and  Methodist  with 
impartial  contempt,  to  gain  a  smattering  of  knowledge  on  a  number  of 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  139 

subjects,  to  dip  into  a  number  of  frivolous  publications,  if  they  are 
popular,  to  have  read  the  latest  novel,  to  have  heard  the  singer  and  seen 
the  actor  of  the  day,  to  be  well  up  with  the  news,  to  know  the  names 
and,  if  so  be,  the  persons  of  public  men,  to  be  able  to  bow  to  them,  to 
walk  up  and  down  the  street  with  your  heads  on  high,  and  to  stare  at 
whatever  meets  you  ;  and  to  say  and  do  worse  things,  of  which  these 
outward  extravagances  are  but  the  symbol.  And  this  is  what  you  con- 
ceive you  have  come  upon  earth  for !  The  Creator  made  you,  it  seems, 
O  my  children,  for  this  work  and  office,  to  be  a  bad  imitation  of  polished 
ungodliness,  to  be  a  piece  of  tawdry  and  faded  finery,  or  a  scent  which 
has  lost  its  freshness,  and  does  but  offend  the  sense  !  O !  that  you  could 
see  how  absurd  and  base  are  such  pretences  in  the  eyes  of  any  but  your- 
selves !  No  calling  of  life  but  is  honorable ;  no  one  is  ridiculous  who 
acts  suitably  to  his  calling  and  estate ;  no  one,  who  has  good  sense  and 
humility,  but  may,  in  any  station  of  life,  be  truly  well-bred  and  refined ; 
but  ostentation,  affectation,  and  ambitious  efforts  are,  in  every  station  oL 
life,  high  or  low,  nothing  but  vulgarities.  Put  them  aside,  despise  them 
yourselves,  O  my  very  dear  sons,  whom  I  love,  and  whom  I  would  fain 
serve ; — oh  !  that  you  could  feel  that  you  have  souls !  oh,  that  you  would 
have  mercy  on  your  souls  !  oh,  that,  before  it  is  too  late,  you  would  be- 
take yourselves  to  Him  who  is  the  Source  of  all  that  is  truly  high  and 
magnificent  and  beautiful,  all  that  is  bright  and  pleasant,  and  secure 
what  you  ignorantly  seek,  in  Him  whom  you  so  wilfully,  so  awfully 
despise ! 

He  alone,  the  Son  of  God,  "  the  brightness  of  the  Eternal  Light,  and 
the  spotless  mirror  of  His  Majesty,"  is  the  source  of  all  good  and  all 
happiness  to  rich  and  poor,  high  and  low.  If  you  were  ever  so  high,* 
you  would  need  Him  ;  if  you  were  ever  so  low,  you  could  offend  Him. 
The  poor  can  offend  Him;  the  poor  man  can  neglect  his  divinely 
appointed  mission  as  well  as  the  rich.  Do  not  suppose,  my  brethren, 
that  what  I  have  said  against  the  upper  or  the  middle  class,  will  not,  if 
you  happen  to  be  poor,  also  lie  against  you.  Though  a  man  were  as 
poor  as  Lazarus,  he  could  be  as  guilty  as  Dives.  If  you  are  resolved  to 
degrade  yourselves  to  the  brutes  of  the  field,  who  have  no  reason  and  no 
conscience,  you  need  not  wealth  or  rank  to  enable  you  to  do  so.  Brutes 
have,  no  wealth ;  they  have  no  pride  of  life ;  they  have  no  purple  and 
fine  linen,  no  splendid  table,  no  retinue  of  servants,  and  yet  they  are 
brutes.  They  are  brutes  by  the  law  of  their  nature :  they  are  the  poorest 
among  the  poor;  there  is  not  a  vagrant  and  outcast  who  is  so  poor  as 
they ;  they  differ  from  him,  not  in  their  possessions,  but  in  their  want  of 
a  soul,  in  that  he  has  a  mission  and  they  have  not,  he  can  sin  and  they 
cannot.     O  my  brethren,  it  stands  to  reason,  a  man  may  intoxicate  him- 


140  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

self  with  a  cheap  draught,  as  well  as  with  a  costly  one ;  he  may  steal  an- 
other's money  for  his  appetites,  though  he  does  not  waste  his  own  upon 
them ;  he  may  break  through  the  natural  and  social  laws  which  encircle 
him,  and  profane  the  sanctity  of  family  duties,  though  he  be,  not  a  child 
of  nobles,  but  a  peasant  or  artisan, — nay,  and  perhaps  he  does  so  more 
frequently  than  they.  This  is  not  the  poor's  blessedness,  that  he  has 
less  temptations  to  self-indulgence,  for  he  has  as  many,  but  that  from  his 
circumstances  he  receives  the  penances  and  corrections  of  self-indulgence. 
Poverty  is  the  mother  of  many  pains  and  sorrows  in  their  season,  and 
these  are  God's  messengers  to  lead  the  soul  to  repentance ;  but,  alas !  if 
the  poor  man  indulges  his  passions,  thinks  little  of  religion,  puts  off  re- 
pentance, refuses  to  make  an  effort,  and  dies  without  conversion,  it 
matters  nothing  that  he  was  poor  in  this  world,  it  matters  nothing  that 
he  was  less  daring  than  the  rich,  it  matters  not  that  he  promised  himself 
God's  favor,  that  he  sent  for  the  Priest  when  death  came,  and  received 
the  last  Sacraments ;  Lazarus  too,  in  that  case,  shall  be  buried  with  Dives 
in  hell,  and  shall  have  had  his  consolation  neither  in  this  world  nor  in 
the  world  to  come*. 

My  brethren,  the  simple  question  is,  whatever  a  man's  rank  in  life 
may  be,  does  he  in  that  rank  perform  the  work  which  God  has  given  him 
to  do?  Now  then,  let  me  turn  to  others,  of  a  very  different  description, 
and  let  me  hear  what  they  will  say,  when  the  question  is  asked  them ; — 
why,  they  will  parry  it  thus :  "  You  give  us  no  alternative,"  they  will 
say  to  me,  "  except  that  of  being  sinners  or  Saints.  You  put  before  us 
our  Lord's  pattern,  and  you  spread  before  us  the  guilt  and  the  ruin  of 
the  deliberate  transgressor ;  whereas  we  have  no  intention  of  going  so  far 
one  way  or  the  other ;  we  do  not  aim  at  being  Saints,  but  we  have  no 
desire  at  all  to  be  sinners.  We  neither  intend  to  disobey  God's  will,  nor 
to  give  up  our  own.  Surely  there  is  a  middle  way,  and  a  safe  one,  in 
which  God's  will  and  our  will  may  both  be  satisfied.  We  mean  to  enjoy 
both  this  world  and  the  next.  We  will  guard  against  mortal  sin  ;  we  are 
not  obliged  to  guard  against  venial ;  indeed  it  would  be  endless  to  at- 
tempt it.  None  but  Saints  do  so ;  it  is  the  work  of  a  life ;  we  need 
have  nothing  else  to  do.  We  are  not  monks,  we  are  in  the  world,  we  are 
in  business,  we  are  parents,  we  have  families ;  we  must  live  for  the  day. 
It  is  a  consolation  to  keep  from  mortal  sin ;  that  we  do,  and  it  is  enough 
for  salvation.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  keep  in  God's  favor ;  what  indeed 
can  we  desire  more?  We  come  at  due  time  to  the  Sacraments;  this  is 
our  comfort  and  our  stay ;  did  we  die,  we  should  die  in  grace,  and 
escape  the  doom  of  the  wicked.  But  if  we  once  attempted  to  go 
further,  where  should  we  stop?  how  will  you  draw  the  line  for  us?  the 
line  between  mortal  and  venial  sin  is  very  distinct ;  we  understand  that ; 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  141 

but  do  you  not  see  that,  if  we  attended  to  our  venial  sins,  there  would  be 
just  as  much  reason  to  attend  to  one  as  to  another?  If  we  began  to  re- 
press our  anger,  why  not  also  repress  vainglory?  why  not  also  guard 
against  niggardliness  ?  why  not  also  keep  from  falsehood  ?  from  gossip- 
ping,  from  idling,  from  excess  in  eating?  And,  after  all,  without  venial 
sin  we  never  can  be,  unless  indeed  we  have  the  prerogative  of  the  Mother 
of  God,  which  it  would  be  almost  heresy  to  ascribe  to  any  one  but  her. 
You  are  not  asking  us  to  be  converted;  that 'we  understand;  we  are 
converted,  we  were  converted  a  long  time  ago.  You  bid  us  aim  at  an 
indefinite  vague  something,  which  is  less  than  perfection,  yet  more  than 
obedience,  and  which,  without  resulting  in  any  tangible  advantage, 
debars  us  from  the  pleasures  and  embarrasses  us  in  the  duties  of  this 
world." 

This  is  what  you  will  say ;  but  your  premises,  my  brethren,  are  better 
than  your  reasoning,  and  your  conclusions  will  not  stand.  You  have  a 
right  view  why  God  has  sent  you  into  the  world,  viz.,  in  order  that  you 
may  get  to  Heaven ;  it  is  quite  true  also  that  you  would  fare  well  indeed 
if  you  found  yourselves  there,  you  could  desire  nothing  better;  nor,  it  is 
true,  can  you  live  any  time  without  venial  sin.  It  is  true  also  that  you 
are  not  obliged  to  aim  at  being  Saints ;  it  is  no  sin  not  to  aim  at  perfec- 
tion. So  much  is  true  and  to  the  purpose;  but  it  does  not  follow  from  it 
that  you,  with  such  views  and  feelings  as  you  have  expressed,  are  using 
sufficient  exertions  even  for  attaining  to  purgatory.  Has  your  religion 
any  difficulty  in  it,  or  is  it  in  all  respects  easy  to  you  ?  Are  you  simply 
taking  your  own  pleasure  in  your  mode  of  living,  or  do  you  find  your 
pleasure  in  submitting  yourself  to  God's  pleasure  ?  In  a  word,  is  your 
religion  a  work?  for  if  it  be  not,  it  is  not  religion  at  all.  Here  at  once, 
before  going  into  your  argument,  is  a  proof  that  it  is  an  unsound  one,  be- 
cause it  brings  you  to  the  conclusion  that,  whereas  Christ  came  to  do  a 
work,  and  all  Saints,  nay,  nay,  and  sinners  do  a  work  too,  you,  on  the 
contrary,  have  no  work  to  do,  because,  forsooth,  you  are  neither  sinners 
nor  Saints ;  or,  if  you  once  had  a  work,  at  least  that  you  have  dispatched 
it  already,  and  you  have  nothing  upon  your  hands.  You  have  attained 
your  salvation,  it  seems,  before  your  time,  and  have  nothing  to  occupy 
you,  and  are  detained  on  earth  too  long.  The  work  days  are  over,  and 
your  perpetual  holiday  is  begun.  Did  then  God  send  you,  above  all 
other  men,  into  the  world  to  be  idle  in  spiritual  matters  ?  Is  it  your 
mission  only  to  find  pleasure  in  this  world,  in  which  you  are  but  as  pil- 
grims and  sojourners?  Are  you  more  than  sons  of  Adam,  who,  by  the 
sweat  of  their  brow,  are  to  eat  bread  till  they  return  to  the  earth  out  of 
which  they  are  taken  ?  Unless  you  have  some  work  in  hand,  unless  you 
are  struggling,  unless  you  are  fighting  with  yourselves,  you  are  no  follow- 


142  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

ers  of  those  who  "  through  many  tribulations  entered  into  the  kingdom 
of  God."  A  fight  is  the  vefry  token  of  a  Christian.  He  is  a  soldier  of 
Christ ;  high  or  low,  he  is  this  and  nothing  else.  If  you  have  triumphed 
over  all  mortal  sin,  as  you  seem  to  think,  then  you  must  attack  your 
venial  sins ;  there  is  no  help  for  it ;  there  is  nothing  else  to  do,  if  you 
would  be  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.  But,  O  simple  souls !  to  think  you 
have  gained  any  triumph  at  all !  No  :  you  cannot  safely  be  at  peace  with 
any,  even  the  least  malignant,  of  the  foes  of  God ;  if  you  are  at  peace 
with  venial  sins,  be  certain  that  in  their  company  and  under  their  shadow 
mortal  sins  are  lurking.  Mortal  sins  are  the  children  of  venial,  which, 
though  they  be  not  deadly  themselves,  yet  are  prolific  of  death.  You 
may  think  that  you  have  killed  the  giants  who  had  possession  of  your 
hearts,  and  that  you  have  nothing  to  fear,  but  may  sit  at  rest  under  your 
vine  and  under  your  fig-tree  ;  but  the  giants  will  live  again,  they  will  rise 
from  the  dust,  and,  before  you  know  where  you  are,  you  will  be  taken 
captive  and  slaughtered  by  the  fierce,  powerful,  and  eternal  enemies  of 
God. 

The  end  of  a  thing  is  the  test.  It  was  our  Lord's  rejoicing  in  His 
last  solemn  hour,  that  He  had  done  the  work  for  which  He  was  sent. 
"  I  have  glorified  Thee  on  earth,"  He  says  in  His  prayer,  "  I  have  finished 
the  work  which  Thou  gavest  me  to  do ;  I  have  manifested  Thy  name  to 
the  men  whom  Thou  hast  given  me  out  of  the  world."  It  was  St.  Paul's 
consolation  also:  "I  have  fought  the  good  fight,  I  have  finished  the 
course,  I  have  kept  the  faith ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown 
of  justice,  which  the  Lord  shall  render  to  me  in  that  day,  the  just  Judge." 
Alas!  alas!  how  different  will  be  our  view  of  things  when  we  come  to 
die,  or  when  we  have  passed  into  eternity,  from  the  dreams  and  pretences 
with  which  we  beguile  ourselves  now  !  What  will  Babel  do  for  us  then  ? 
Will  it  rescue  our  souls  from  the  purgatory  or  the  hell  to  which  it  sends 
them  ?  If  we  were  created,  it  was  that  we  might  serve  God  ;  if  we  have 
His  gifts,  it  is  that  yv^e  may  glorify  Him ;  if  we  have  a  conscience,  it  is 
that  we  may  obey  it ;  if  we  have  the  prospect  of  heaven,  it  is  that  we 
may  keep  it  before  us ;  if  we  have  light,  that  we  may  follow  it ;  if  we 
have  grace,  that  we  may  save  ourselves  by  means  of  it.  Alas !  alas !  for 
those  who  die  without  fulfilling  their  mission !  who  were  called  to  be 
holy,  and  lived  in  sin ;  who  were  called  to  worship  Christ,  and  who 
plunged  into  this  giddy  and  unbelieving  world  ;  who  were  called  to  fight, 
and  who  remained  idle ;  who  were  called  to  be  Catholics,  and  who  did 
but  remain  in  the  religion  of  their  birth !  Alas  for  those  who  have  had 
gifts  and  talents,  and  have  not  used,  or  have  misused,  or  abused  them  ; 
who  have  had  wealth,  and  have  spent  it  on  themselves ;  who  have  had 
abilities,  and  have  advocated  what  was  sinful,  or  ridiculed  what  was  true, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  143 

or  scattered  doubts  against  what  was  sacred ;  who  have  had  leisure,  and 
have  wasted  it  on  wicked  companions,  or  evil  books,  or  foolish  amuse- 
ments !  Alas !  for  those,  of  whom  the  best  that  can  be  said  is,  that  they 
are  harmless  and  naturally  blameless,  while  they  never  have  attempted  to 
cleanse  their  hearts  or  to  live  in  God's  sight ! 

The  world  goes  on  from  age  to  age,  but  the  holy  Angels  and  blessed 
Saints  are  always  crying  alas !  alas !  and  woe  !  woe  !  over  the  loss  of  voca- 
tions, and  the  disappointment  of  hopes,  and  the  scorn  of  God's  love,  and 
the  ruin  of  souls.  One  generation  succeeds  another,  and  whenever  they 
look  down  upon  earth  from  their  golden  thrones,  they  see  scarcely  any- 
thing but  a  multitude  of  guardian  spirits,  downcast  and  sad,  each  follow- 
ing his  own  charge,  in  anxiety,  or  in  terror,  or  in  despair,  vainly  endeav- 
oring to  shield  him  from  the  enemy,  and  failing  because  he  will  not  be 
shielded.  Times  come  and  go,  and  man  will  not  believe,  that  that  is  to 
be  which  is  not  yet,  or  that  what  now  is  only  continues  for  a  season,  and 
is  not  eternity.  The  end  is  the  trial ;  the  world  passes ;  it  is  but  a 
pageant  and  a  scene ;  the  lofty  palace  crumbles,  the  busy  city  is  mute, 
the  ships  of  Tarshish  have  sped  away.  On  heart  and  flesh  death  is  com- 
ing; the  veil  is  breaking.  Departing  soul,  how  hast  thou  used  thy  tal- 
ents, thy  opportunities,  the  light  poured  around  thee,  the  warnings  given 
thee,  the  grace  inspired  into  thee  ?  O  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  support  me 
in  ^hat  hour  in  the  strong  arms  of  Thy  Sacraments,  and  by  the  fresh 
fragrance  of  Thy  consolations.  Let  the  absolving  words  be  said  over  me, 
and  the  holy  oil  sign  and  seal  me,  and  Thy  own  Body  be  my  food,  and 
Thy  Blood  my  sprinkling ;  and  let  my  sweet  Mother  Mary  breathe  on 
me,  and  my  Angel  whisper  peace  to  me,  and  my  glorious  Saints,  and  my 
own  dear  Father,  Philip,  smile  on  me ;  that  in  them  all,  and  through 
thein  all,  I  may  receive  the  gift  of  perseverance,  and  die,  as  I  desire  to 
live,  in  Thy  faith,  in  Thy  Church,  in  Thy  service,  and  in  Thy  love. 


w^^^m^m^ 


j^^U 

1 

NATURE  AND   GRACE. 

N  the  Parable  of  the  Good  Shepherd  our  Lord  sets  before  us  a 
dispensation  or  state  of  things,  which  is  very  strange  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world.  He  speaks  of  mankind  as  consisting  of 
two  bodies,  distinct  from  each  other,  divided  by  as  real  a  line 
of  demarcation  as  the  fence  which  encloses  the  sheepfold.  "  I  am  the 
Door,"  He  says,  "  by  me  if  any  man  shall  have  entered  in,  he  shall  be 
saved :  and  he  shall  go  in  and  go  out,  and  shall  find  pastures.  My  sheep 
hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they  follow  me,  and  I  give  them 
life  everlasting  ;  and  they  shall  not  perish  forever,  and  no  man  shall 
snatch  them  out  of  my  Hand."  And  in  His  last  prayer  for  His  disciples 
to  His  Eternal  Father,  He  says,  "  I  have  manifested  Thy  Name  to  the 
men  whom  Thou  hast  given  me  out  of  the  world.  Thine  they  were,  and 
Thou  hast  given  them  to  me,  and  they  have  kept  Thy  word.  \  pray  for 
them,  I  pray  not  for  the  world,  but  for  those  whom  Thou  hast  given  me, 
for  they  are  Thine.  Holy  Father,  keep  them  in  Thy  Name  whom  Thou 
hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one,  as  we  also."  Nor  are  these  pass- 
ages solitary  or  singular ;  "  Fear  not,  little  flock,"  He  says  by  another 
Evangelist,  "  for  it  hath  pleased  your  Father  to  give  you  the  kingdom." 
And  again,  "  I  thank  Thee,  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  Thou 
hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them 
unto  little  ones  ";  and  again,  *'  How  narrow  is  the  gate,  and  strait  the  way 
which  leadeth  to  life,  and  few  there  are  who  find  it !  "  St.  Paul  repeats 
and  insists  on  this  doctrine  of  his  Lord,  "  Ye  were  once  darkness,  but  now 
are  light  in  the  Lord  ";  "  He  hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  dark- 
ness, and  hath  translated  us  into  the  kingdom  of  the  Son  of  His  love." 
And  St.  John,  "  Greater  is  He  that  is  in  you  than  he  that  is  in  the  world. 
They  are  of  the  world,  we  are  of  God."  Thus  there  are  two  parties  on 
this  earth,  and  two  only,  if  we  view  men  in  their  religious  aspect ;  those, 
the  few,  who  hear  Christ's  words  and  follow  Him,  who  are  in  the  light, 
and  walk  in  the  narrow  way,  and  have  the  promise  of  heaven  ;  and  those, 
on  the  other  hand,  who  are  the  many,  for  whom  Christ  prays  not,  though 
He  has  died  for  them,  who  are  wise  and  prudent  in  their  own  eyes,  who 
are  possessed  by  the  Evil  One,  and  are  subject  to  his  rule. 

And  such  is  the  view  taken  of  mankind,  as  by  their  Maker  and  Re- 
(144) 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  145 

deemer,  so  also  by  the  small  company  in  whom  He  lives  and  is  glorified ; 
but  far  differently  does  the  larger  body,  the  world  itself,  look  upon  man- 
kind at  large,  upon  its  own  vast  multitudes,  and  upon  those  whom  God 
has  taken  out  of  it  for  His  own  special  inheritance.  It  considers  that  all 
men  are  pretty  much  on  a  level,  or  that,  differ  though  they  may,  they 
differ  by  such  fine  shades  from  each  other,  that  it  is  impossible,  because 
forsooth  it  would  be  untrue  and  unjust,  to  divide  them  into  two  bodies, 
or  to  divide  them  at  all.  "  Each  man  is  like  himself  and  no  one  else ; 
each  man  has  his  own  opinions,  his  own  rule  of  faith  and  conduct,  his 
own  worship ;  if  a  number  join  together  in  a  religious  form,  this  is  an  ac- 
cident, for  the  sake  of  convenience  ;  for  each  is  complete  in  himself ;  re- 
ligion is  simply  a  personal  concern ;  there  is  no  such  thing  really  as  a 
common  or  joint  religion,  that  is,  one  in  which  a  number  of  men,  strictly 
speaking,  partake ;  it  is  all  a  matter  of  private  judgment.  Hence,  as  they 
sometimes  proceed  even  to  avow,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  true  religion 
or  a  false  ;  that  is  true  to  each,  which  each  sincerely  believes  to  be  true ; 
and  what  is  true  to  one,  is  not  true  to  his  neighbor.  There  are  no  special 
doctrines,  necessary  to  be  believed  in  order  to  salvation ;  it  is  not  very 
difficult  to  be  saved ;  and  most  men  may  take  it  for  granted  that  they 
shall  be  saved.  All  men  are  in  God's  favor,  except  so  far  as,  and  while, 
they  commit  acts  of  sin  ;  but  when  the  sin  is  over,  they  get  back  into  His 
favor  again,  naturally  and  as  a  thing  of  course,  no  one  knows  how,  owing 
to  God's  infinite  indulgence,  unless  indeed  they  persevere  and  die  in  a 
course  of  sin,  and  perhaps  even  then.  There  is  no  such  place  as  hell,  or 
at  least  punishment  is  not  eternal.  Predestination,  election,  grace,  perse- 
verance, faith,  sanctity,  unbelief,  and  reprobation  are  strange  ideas,  and, 
as  they  think,  very  false  ones."  This  is  the  cast  of  opinion  of  men  in 
general,  in  proportion  as  they  exercise  their  minds  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion, and  think  for  themselves ;  and  if  in  any  respect  they  depart  from 
the  easy,  cheerful,  and  tranquil  temper  of  mind  which  it  expresses,  it  is 
when  they  are  led  to  think  of  those  who  presume  to  take  the  contrary 
view,  that  is,  who  take  the  view  set  forth  by  Christ  and  His  Apostles. 
On  these  they  are  commonly  severe,  that  is,  on  the  very  persons  whom 
God  acknowledges  as  His,  and  is  training  heavenward, — on  Catholics, 
who  are  the  witnesses  and  preachers  of  those  awful  doctrines  of  grace, 
which  condemn  the  world  and  which  the  world  cannot  endure. 

In  truth  the  world  does  not  know  of  the  existence  of  grace ;  nor  is  it 
wonderful,  for  it  is  ever  contented  with  itself,  and  has  never  turned  to  ac- 
count the  supernatural  aids  bestowed  upon  it.  Its  highest  idea  of  man 
lies  in  the  order  of  nature ;  its  pattern  man  is  the  natural  man  ;  it  thinks 
it  wrong  to  be  anything  else  than  a  natural  man.  It  sees  that  nature  has 
a  number  of  tendencies,  inclinations,  and  passions ;  and  because  these  are 


14:6  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

natural,  it  thinks  that  each  of  them  may  be  indulged  for  its  own  sake,  so 
far  as  it  does  no  harm  to  others,  or  to  a  person's  bodily,  mental,  and  tem- 
poral well-being.  It  considers  that  want  of  moderation,  or  excess,  is  the 
very  definition  of  sin,  if  it  goes  so  far  as  to  recognize  that  word.  It  thinks 
that  he  is  the  perfect  man  who  eats,  and  drinks,  and  sleeps,  and  walks, 
and  diverts  himself,  and  studies,  and  writes,  and  attends  to  religion,  in 
moderation.  The  devotional  feeling,  and  the  intellect,  and  the  flesh,  have 
each  its  claim  upon  us,  and  each  must  have  play,  if  the  Creator  is  to  be 
duly  honored.  It  does  not  understand,  it  will  not  admit,  that  impulses 
and  propensities,  which  are  found  in  our  nature,  as  God  created  it,  may 
nevertheless,  if  indulged,  become  sins,  on  the  ground  that  He  has  sub- 
jected them  to  higher  principles,  whether  these  principles  be  in  our  nature, 
or  be  superadded  to  our  nature.  Hence  it  is  very  slow  to  believe  that 
evil  thoughts  are  really  displeasing  to  God,  and  incur  punishment. 
Works,  indeed,  tangible  actions,  which  are  seen  and  which  have  influ- 
ence, it  will  allow  to  be  wrong ;  but  it  will  not  believe  even  that  deeds 
are  sinful,  or  that  they  are  more  than  reprehensible,  if  they  are  private  or 
personal ;  and  it  is  blind  utterly  to  the  malice  of  thoughts,  of  imaginations, 
of  wishes,  and  of  words.  Because  the  wild  emotions  of  anger,  lust,  greedi- 
ness, craft,  cruelty,  are  no  sin  in  the  brute  creation,  which  has  neither  the 
means  nor  the  command  to  repress  them,  therefore  they  are  no  sins  in  a 
being  who  has  a  diviner  sense  and  a  controlling  power.  Concupiscence, 
it  considers,  may  be  indulged,  because  it  is  in  its  first  elements  natural. 

Behold  here  the  true  origin  and  fountain-head  of  the  warfare  between 
the  Church  and  the  world ;  here  they  join  issue,  and  diverge  from  each 
other.  The  Church  is  built  upon  the  doctrine  that  impurity  is  hateful  to 
God,  and  that  concupiscence  is  its  root ;  with  the  Prince  of  the  Apostles, 
her  visible  Head,  she  denounces  "  the  corruption  of  concupiscence  which 
is  in  the  world,"  or,  that  corruption  in  the  world  which  comes  of  concupis- 
cence ;  whereas  the  corrupt  world  defends,  nay,  I  may  even  say,  sanctifies 
that  very  concupiscence  which  is  the  world's  corruption.  Just  as  its 
bolder  teachers,  as  you  know,  my  brethren,  hold  that  the  laws  of  this 
physical  creation  are  so  supreme,  as  to  allow  of  their  utterly  disbelieving 
in  the  existence  of  miracles,  so,  in  like  manner,  it  deifies  and  worships  hu- 
man nature  and  its  impulses,  and  denies  the  power  and  the  grant  of  grace. 
This  is  the  source  of  the  hatred  which  the  world  bears  to  the  Church  ;  it 
finds  a  whole  catalogue  of  sins  brought  into  light  and  denounced,  which 
it  would  fain  believe  to  be  no  sins  at  all ;  it  finds  itself,  to  its  indignation 
and  impatience,  surrounded  with  sin,  morning,  noon,  and  night ;  it  finds 
that  a  stern  law  lies  against  it  in  matters  where  it  believed  it  was  its  own 
master  and  need  not  think  of  God ;  it  finds  guilt  accumulating  upon  it 
hourly,  which  nothing  can  prevent,  nothing  remove,  but  a  higher  power. 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  147 

the  grace  of  God.  It  finds  itself  in  danger  of  being  humbled  to  the  earth 
as  a  rebel,  instead  of  being  allowed  to  indulge  its  self-dependence  and 
self-complacency.  Hence  it  takes  its  stand  on  nature,  and  denies  or  re- 
jects divine  grace.  Like  the  proud  spirit  in  the  beginning,  it  wishes  to 
find  its  supreme  good  in  its  own  self,  and  nothing  above  it ;  it  under- 
takes to  be  sufficient  for  its  own  happiness ;  it  has  no  desire  for  the  su- 
pernatural, and  therefore  does  not  believe  in  it.  And  because  nature  can- 
not rise  above  nature,  it  will  not  believe  that  the  narrow  way  is  possible ; 
it  hates  those  who  enter  upon  it  as  if  pretenders  and  hypocrites,  or  laughs 
at  their  aspirations  as  romance  and  fanaticism  ;  lest  it  should  have  to  be- 
lieve in  the  existence  of  grace. 

Now  you  may  think,  my  brethren,  from  the  way  in  which  I  have  been 
contrasting  nature  and  grace,  that  they  cannot  possibly  be  mistaken  for 
each  other ;  but  I  wish  to  show  you,  in  the  next  place,  how  grace  may  be 
mistaken  for  nature,  and  nature  mistaken  for  grace.  And  in  explaining 
this  very  grave  matter,  I  wish,  lest  I  should  be  misunderstood,  first  to  say 
distinctly,  that  I  am  merely  comparing  and  contrasting  nature  and  grace 
one  with  another  in  their  several  characters,  and  by  no  means  presuming 
to  apply  what  I  shall  say  of  them  to  actual  individuals,  or  to  judge  what 
persons,  living  or  dead,  are  specimens  of  the  one  or  of  the  other.  This 
then  being  my  object,  I  repeat  that,  contrary  to  what  might  be  thought, 
they  may  easily  be  mistaken  for  each  other,  because,  as  it  is  plain  from 
what  I  have  said,  the  difference  is  in  a  great  measure  an  inward,  and 
therefore  a  secret  one.  Grace  is  lodged  in  the  heart ;  it  purifies  the 
thoughts  and  motives,  it  raises  the  soul  to  God,  it  sanctifies  the  body,  it 
corrects  and  exalts  human  nature  in  regard  to  those  sins  of  which  men 
are  ashamed,  and  do  not  make  a  public  display.  Accordingly,  in  outward 
show,  in  single  actions,  in  word,  in  profession,  in  teaching,  in  the  social 
and  political  virtues,  in  striking  and  heroical  exploits,  on  the  public 
transitory  scene  of  things,  nature  may  counterfeit  grace,  nay  even  to  the 
deception  of  the  man  himself  in  whom  the  counterfeit  occurs.  Recollect 
that  it  is  by  nature,  not  by  grace,  that  man  has  the  gifts  of  reason  and 
conscience ;  and  mere  reason  and  conscience  will  lead  him  to  discover,  and 
in  a  measure  pursue,  objects  which  are,  properly  speaking,  supernatural 
and  divine.  From  the  things  which  are  seen,  from  the  voice  of  tradition, 
from  the  existence  of  the  soul,  and  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  the 
natural  reason  can  infer  the  existence  of  God.  The  natural  heart  can 
burst  forth  by  fits  and  starts  into  emotions  of  love  toward  Him;  the 
natural  imagination  can  depict  the  beauty  and  glory  of  His  attributes; 
the  natural  conscience  may  ascertain  and  put  in  order  the  truths  of  the 
great  moral  law,  nay  even  to  the  condemnation  of  that  concupiscence, 
which  it  is  too  weak  to  subdue,  and  is  therefore  persuaded  to  tolerate. 


148  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

The  natural  will  can  do  many  tKings  really  good  and  praiseworthy ;  nay, 
in  particular  cases,  or  at  particular  seasons,  when  temptation  is  away,  it 
may  seem  to  have  a  strength  which  it  has  not,  and  to  be  imitating  the 
austerity  and  purity  of  a  Saint.  One  man  has  no  temptation  to  this  sin, 
nor  another  to  that ;  hence  human  nature  may  often  show  to  great 
advantage ;  and,  as  seen  in  its  happier  specimens,  it  may  become  quite  a 
trial  to  faith,  seeing  that  in  its  best  estate  it  has  really  no  relationship  to 
the  family  of  Christ,  and  no  claim  whatever  to  a  heavenly  reward, — though 
it  can  talk  of  Christ  and  heaven  too,  read  Scripture,  and  "do  many 
things  willingly  "  in  consequence  of  reading  it,  and  can  exercise  a  certain 
sort  of  belief,  however  different  from  that  faith  which  is  imparted  to  us 
by  grace. 

For  instance,  it  is  a  most  mournful,  often  quite  a  piercing  thought,  to 
contemplate  the  conduct  and  the  character  of  those  who  have  never 
received  the  elementary  grace  of  God  in  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism.* 
They  may  be,  in  fact,  so  benevolent,  so  active  and  untiring  in  their 
benevolence;  they  may  be  so  wise  and  so  considerate;  they  may  have  so 
much  in  them  to  engage  the  affections  of  those  who  see  them !  Well,  let 
us  leave  them  to  God;  His  grace  is  over  all  the  earth;  if  that  grace 
comes  to  good  effect  and  bears  fruit  in  the  hearts  of  the  unbaptized.  He 
will  reward  it ;  but,  where  grace  is  not,  there  doubtless  what  looks  so  fair 
has  its  reward  in  this  world,  such  good  as  is  in  it  having  no  better  claim 
on  a  heavenly  reward  than  skill  in  any  art  or  science,  than  eloquence  or 
wit.  And  moreover,  it  often  happens,  that,  where  there  is  much  that  is 
specious  and  amiable,  there  is  also  much  that  is  sinful,  and  frightfully  so. 
Men  show  their  best  face  in  the  world ;  but  for  the  greater  part  of  their 
time,  the  many  hours  of  the  day  and  the  night,  they  are  shut  up  in  their 
own  thoughts.  They  are  their  own  witnesses,  none  see  them  besides, 
save  God  and  His  Angels ;  therefore  in  such  cases  we  can  only  judge  of 
what  we  actually  see,  and  can  only  admire  what  is  in  itself  good,  without 
having  any  means  of  determining  the  real  moral  condition  of  those  who 
display  it.  Just  as  children  are  caught  by  the  mere  good  nature  and 
familiarity  with  which  they  are  treated  by  some  grown  man,  and  have  no 
means  or  thought  of  forming  a  judgment  about  him  in  other  respects, 
and  may  be  surprised,  when  they  grow  up,  to  find  how  unworthy  he  is  of 
their  respect  or  affection ;  as  the  uneducated,  who  have  seen  very  little 
of  the  world,  have  no  faculties  for  distinguishing  between  one  rank  of 
men  and  another,  and  consider  all  persons  on  a  level  who  are  respectably 
dressed,  whatever  be  their  accent,  their  carriage,  or  their  countenance; 
so  all  of  us,  not  children  only  or  the  uncultivated,  are  but  novices,  or  less 


*  Vtd.  Sermons  for  the  Day,  pp.  68-70. 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  149 

than  novices,  in  the  business  of  deciding  what  is  the  real  state  in  God's 
sight  of  this  or  that  man,  who  is  external  to  the  Church,  yet  in  character 
or  conduct  resembles  her  true  sons. 

Not  entering  then  upon  this  point,  which  is  beyond  us,  so  much  we 
even  can  see  and  are  sure  of,  that  human  nature  is,  in  a  degree  beyond  all 
words,  inconsistent,  and  that  we  must  not  take  for  granted  that  it  can  do 
anything  at  all  more  than  it  actually  does,  or  that  those,  in  whom  it 
shows  most  plausibly,  are  a  whit  better  than  they  look.  We  see  the  best, 
and  (as  far  as  moral  excellence  goes)  the  whole  of  them.  We  cannot 
argue  from  what  we  see  in  favor  of  what  we  do  not  see ;  we  cannot  take 
what  we  see  as  a  specimen  of  what  they  really  are.  Sad,  then,  as  the 
spectacle  of  such  a  man  is  to  a  CathoHc,  he  is  no  difficulty  to  him.  He 
may  have  many  virtues,  yet  he  may  have  nothing  of  a  special  Christian 
cast  about  him,  humility,  purity,  or  devotion.  He  may  like  his  own  way 
intensely,  have  a  great  opinion  of  his  own  powers,  scoff  at  faith  and 
religious  fear,  and  seldom  or  never  have  said  a  prayer  in  his  life.  Nay, 
even  outward  gravity  of  deportment  is  no  warrant  that  there  is  not 
within  an  habitual  indulgence  of  evil  thoughts,  and  secret  offenses  odious 
to  Almighty  God.  We  admire,  for  instance,  whatever  is  excellent  in  the 
ancient  heathen ;  we  acknowledge  without  jealousy  whatever  they  have 
done  virtuous  and  praiseworthy,  but  we  understand  as  little  of  the 
character  or  destiny  of  the  being  in  whom  that  goodness  is  found,  as  we 
understand  the  nature  of  the  material  substances  which  present  them- 
selves to  us  under  the  outward  garb  of  shape  and  color.  They  are  to  us 
as  unknown  causes  which  have  influenced  or  disturbed  the  world,  and 
which  manifest  themselves  in  certain  great  effects,  political,  social,  or 
ethical ;  they  are  to  us  as  pictures;  which  appeal  to  the  eye,  but  not  to 
the  touch.  Wie  do  not  know  that  they  would  prove  to  be  more  real  than 
a  painting,  if  we  could  touch  them.  Thus  much  we  know,  that,  if  they 
have  attained  to  heaven,  it  has  been  by  the  grace  of  God  and  their 
co-operation  with  it ;  if  they  have  lived  without  using  that  grace  which 
is  given  to  all,  they  have  no  hope  of  life ;  and,  if  they  have  lived  and  died 
in  mortal  sin,  they  are  in  the  state  of  bad  Catholics,  and  have  the  prospect 
of  never-ending  death. 

Yet,  if  we  allow  ourselves  to  take  the  mere  outward  appearance  of 
things,  and  the  happier,  though  partial  and  occasional  efforts  of  human 
nature,  how  great  it  is,  how  amiable,  how  brilliant, — that  is,  if  we  may 
pretend  to  the  power  of  viewing  it  distinct  from  the  supernatural 
influences  which  have  ever  haunted  it !  How  great  are  the  old  Greek 
lawgivers  and  statesmen,  whose  histories  and  works  are  known  to  some 
of  us,  and  whose  names  to  many  more !  How  great  are  those  stern 
Roman   heroes,  who  conquered  the  world,  and   prepared   the  way  for 


150  -        DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Christ !  How  wise,  how  profound,  are  those  ancient  teachers  and  sages  I 
what  power  of  imagination,  what  a  semblance  of  prophecy,  is  manifest 
in  their  poets !  The  present  world  is  in  many  respects  not  so  great  as  in 
that  old  time,  but  even  now  there  is  enough  in  it  to  show  both  the 
strength  of  human  nature  in  this  respect,  and  its  weakness.  Consider  the 
solidity  of  our  own  political  fabric  at  home,  and  the  expansion  of  our 
empire  abroad,  and  you  will  have  matter  enough  spread  out  before  you 
to  occupy  many  a  long  day  in  admiration  of  the  genius,  the  virtues,  and 
the  resources  of  human  nature.  Take  a  second  meditation  upon  it ;  alas! 
you  will  find  nothing  of  faith  there,  but  mainly  expedience  as  the  measure 
of  right  and  wrong,  and  temporal  well-being  as  the  end  of  action. 

Again,  many  are  the  tales  and  poems  written  nowadays,  expressing 
high  and  beautiful  sentiments ;  I  dare  say  some  of  you,  my  brethren,  have 
fallen  in  with  them,  and  perhaps  you  have  thought  to  yourselves,  that  he 
must  be  a  man  of  deep  religious  feeling  and  high  religious  profession  who 
could  write  so  well.  Is  it  so  in  fact,  my  brethren  ?  it  is  not  so ;  why  ? 
because  after  all  it  is  but  poetry,  not  religion  ;  it  is  human  nature  exerting 
the  powers  of  imagination  and  reason,  which  it  has,  till  it  seems  also  to 
have  powers  which  it  has  not.  There  are,  you  know,  in  the  animal  world 
various  creatures,  which  are  able  to  imitate  the  voice  of  man ;  nature  in 
like  manner  is  often  a  mockery  of  grace.  The  truth  is,  the  natural  man 
sees  this  or  that  principle  to  be  good  or  true  from  the  light  of  conscience ; 
and  then,  since  he  has  the  power  of  reasoning,  he  knows  that,  if  this  be 
true,  many  other  things  are  true  likewise ;  and  then,  having  the  power  of 
imagination,  he  pictures  to  himself  those  other  things  as  true,  though  he 
does  not  really  understand  them.  And  then  he  brings  to  his  aid  what  he 
has  read  and  gained  from  others  who  have  had  grace,  and  thus  he  com- 
pletes his  sketch ;  and  then  he  throws  his  feelings  and  his  heart  into  it, 
meditates  on  it,  and  kindles  in  himself  a  sort  of  enthusiasm,  and  thus  he 
is  able  to  write  beautifully  and  touchingly  about  what  to  others  indeed 
may  be  a  reality,  but  to  him  is  nothing  more  than  a  fiction.  Thus  some 
can  write  about  the  early  Martyrs,  and  others  describe  some  great  Saint 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  not  exactly  as  a  Catholic  would,  but  as  if  they  had  a 
piety  and  a  seriousness  to  which  really  they  are  strangers.  So,  too,  actors 
on  a  stage  can  excite  themselves  till  they  think  they  are  the  persons  they 
represent ;  and,  as  you  know,  prejudiced  persons,  who  wish  to  quarrel 
with  another,  impute  something  to  him,  which  at  first  they  scarcely 
believe  themselves;  but  they  wish  to  believe  it  and  act  as  if  it  were  true^ 
and  raise  and  cherish  anger  at  the  thought  of  it,  till  at  last  they  come 
simply  to  believe  it.  So  it  is,  I  say,  in  the  case  of  many  an  author  in 
verse  and  prose  ;  readers  are  deceived  by  his  fine  writing ;  they  not  only 
praise  this  or  that  sentiment,  or  argument,  or  description,  in  what  they 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  151 

read,  which  happens  to  be  true,  but  they  put  faith  in  the  writer  himself ; 
and  they  believe  sentiments  or  statements  which  are  false  on  the  credit 
of  the  true.  Thus  it  is  that  people  are  led  away  into  false  religions  and 
false  philosophies ;  a  preacher  or  speaker,  who  is  in  a  state  of  nature, 
or  has  fallen  from  grace,  is  able  to  say  many  things  to  touch  the  heart 
of  a  sinner  or  to  strike  his  conscience,  whether  from  his  natural  powers, 
or  from  what  he  has  read  in  books ;  and  the  latter  forthwith  takes  him 
for  his  prophet  and  guide,  on  the  warrant  of  these  accidental  truths  which 
it  required  no  supernatural  gifts  to  discover  and  enforce. 

Scripture  provides  us  an  instance  of  such  a  prophet  (nay,  of  one 
far  more  favored  and  honored  than  any  false  teacher  is  now),  who 
nevertheless  was  the  enemy  of  God ;  I  mean  the  prophet  Balaam.  He 
went  forth  to  curse  the  chosen  people  in  spite  of  an  express  prohibition 
from  heaven,  and  that  for  money ;  and  at  length  he  died  fighting  against 
them  in  battle.  Such  was  he  in  his  life  and  in  his  death ;  such  were  his 
deeds ;  but  what  were  his  words  ?  most  religious,  most  conscientious, 
most  instructive.  "  If  Balac,"  he  says,  "  shall  give  me  his  house  full  of 
silver  and  gold,  I  cannot  alter  the  word  of  the  Lord  my  God."  Again, 
'*  Let  my  soul  die  the  death  of  the  just,  and  let  my  end  be  like  to  theirs ! " 
And  again,  "  I  will  show  thee,  O  man,  what  is  good,  and  what  the  Lord 
requireth  of  thee ;  to  do  judgment  and  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk 
heedfully  with  thy  God."  Here  is  a  man,  who  is  not  in  a  state  of  grace, 
speaking  so  religiously,  that  at  first  sight  you  might  have  thought  he  was 
to  be  followed  in  whatever  he  said,  and  that  your  soul  would  have  been 
safe  with  his. 

And  thus  it  often  happens,  that  those  who  seem  so  amiable  and  good, 
and  so  trustworthy,  when  we  only  know  them  from  their  writings,  dis- 
appoint us  so  painfully,  if  at  length  we  come  to  have  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  them.  We  do  not  recognize  in  the  living  being  the  eloquence 
or  the  wisdom  which  so  much  enchanted  us.  He  is  rude,  perhaps,  and 
unfeeling ;  he  is  selfish,  he  is  dictatorial,  he  is  sensual,  he  is  empty- 
minded  and  frivolous ;  while  we  in  our  simplicity  had  antecedently 
thought  him  the  very  embodiment  of  purity  and  tenderness,  or  an  oracle 
of  heavenly  truth. 

Now,  my  dear  brethren,  I  have  been  engaged  in  bringing  before  you 
what  human  nature  can  do,  and  what  it  can  appear,  without  being  recon- 
ciled to  God,  without  any  hope  of  heaven,  without  any  security  against 
sin,  without.any  pardon  of  the  original  curse,  nay,  in  the  midst  of  mortal 
sin  ;  but  it  is  a  state  which  has  never  existed  in  fact,  without  great  modi- 
fications. No  one  has  ever  been  deprived  of  the  assistance  of  grace,  both 
for  illumination  and  conversion ;  even  the  heathen  world  as  a  whole  had 
to  a  certain  extent  its  darkness  relieved  by  these  fitful  and  recurrent 


152  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

gleams  of  light :  but  I  have  thought  it  useful  to  get  you  to  contemplate 
what  human  nature  is,  viewed  in  itself,  for  various  reasons.  It  explains 
how  it  is  that  men  look  so  like  each  other  as  they  do, — grace  being 
imitated,  and,  as  it  were,  rivalled  by  nature,  both  in  society  at  large,  and 
in  the  hearts  of  particular  persons.  Hence  the  world  will  not  believe  the 
separation  really  existing  between  it  and  the  Church,  and  the  smallness 
of  the  flock  of  Christ.  And  hence  too  it  is,  that  numbers  who  have 
heard  the  Name  of  Christ,  and  profess  to  believe  in  the  Gospel,  will  not 
be  persuaded  as  regards  themselves  that  they  are  exterior  to  the  Church, 
and  do  not  enjoy  her  privileges ;  merely  because  they  do  their  duty  in 
some  general  way,  or  because  they  are  conscious  to  themselves  of  being 
benevolent  or  upright.  And  this  is  a  point  which  concerns  Catholics  too, 
as  I  now  proceed  to  show  you. 

Make  yourselves  quite  sure  then,  my  brethren,  of  the  matter  of  fact, 
before  you  go  away  with  the  belief,  that  you  are  not  confusing,  in  your 
ov/n  case,  nature  and  grace,  and  taking  credit  to  yourselves  for  super- 
natural works,  which  merit  heaven,  when  you  are  but  doing  the  works  of 
a  heathen,  are  unforgiven,  and  lie  under  an  eternal  sentence.  O,  it  is  a 
dreadful  thought,  that  a  man  may  deceive  himself  with  the  notion  that 
he  is  secure,  merely  because  he  is  a  Catholic,  and  because  he  has  some 
kind  of  love  and  fear  of  God,  whereas  he  may  be  no  better  than  many  a 
Protestant  round  about  him,  who  either  never  was  baptized,  or  threw 
himself  once  for  all  out  of  grace  on  coming  to  years  of  understanding. 
This  idea  is  entirely  conceivable :  it  is  well  if  it  be  not  true  in  matter  of 
fact.  You  know,  it  is  one  opinion  entertained  among  divines  and  holy 
men,  that  the  number  of  Catholics  that  are  to  be  saved  will  on  the  whole 
be  small.  Multitudes  of  those  who  never  knew  the  Gospel  will  rise  up 
in  the  jucfgment  against  the  children  of  the  Church,  and  will  be  'shown 
to  have  done  more  with  scantier  opportunities.  Our  Lord  speaks  of  His 
people  as  a  small  flock,  as  I  cited  His  words  when  I  began :  He  says, 
*'  Many  are  called,  few  are  chosen."  St.  Paul,  speaking  in  the  first  in- 
stance of  the  Jews,  says  that  but  "  a  remnant  is  saved  according  to  the 
election  of  grace."  He  speaks  even  of  the  possibility  of  his  own  repro- 
bation. What  a  thought  in  an  Apostle !  yet  it  is  one  with  which  Saints 
are  familiar ;  they  fear  both  for  themselves  and  for  others.  It  is  related 
in  the  history  of  my  own  dear  Patron,  St.  Philip  Neri,  that  some  time 
after  his  death  he  appeared  to  a  holy  religious,  and  bade  him  take  a 
message  of  consolation  to  his  children,  the  Fathers  of  the  Oratory.  The 
consolation  was  this,  that,  by  the  grace  of  God,  up  to  that  day  not  one 
of  the  Congregation  had  been  lost.  "  None  of  them  lost !  "  a  man  may 
cry  out ;  "  well,  had  his  consolation  for  his  children  been,  that  they  were 
all  in  paradise,  having  escaped  the  dark  lake  of  purgatory,  that  would 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  153 

have  been  something  worth  telling ;  but  all  he  had  to  say  was,  that  none 
of  them  were  in  hell !  Strange  if  they  were !  Here  was  a  succession  of 
men,  who  had  given  up  the  world  for  a  religious  life,  who  had  given  up 
self  for  God  and  their  neighbor,  who  had  passed  their  days  in  prayer  and 
good  works,  who  had  died  happily  with  the  last  Sacraments,  and  it  is  re- 
vealed about  them,  as  a  great  consolation,  that  not  even  one  of  them  was 
lost !  "  Still  such  after  all  is  our  holy  Father's  consolation  ;  and,  that  it 
should  be  such,  only  proves  that  salvation  is  not  so  easy  a  matter,  or  so 
cheap  a  possession,  as  we  are  apt  to  suppose.  It  is  not  obtained  by  the 
mere  wishing.  And,  if  it  was  a  gift  so  to  be  coveted  by  men,  who  had 
made  sacrifices  for  Christ,  and  were  living  in  sanctity,  how  much  more 
rare  and  arduous  of  attainment  is  it  in  those  who  have  confessedly  loved 
the  world  more  than  God,  and  have  never  dreamed  of  doing  any  duty  to 
which  the  Church  did  not  oblige  them ! 

Tell  me,  what  is  the  state  of  your  souls  and  the  rule  of  your  lives? 
You  come  to  Confession,  once  a  year ; — four  times  a  year ; — at  the  In- 
dulgences ; — you  communicate  as  often ;  you  do  not  miss  Mass  on  days 
of  obligation  ;  you  are  not  conscious  of  any  great  sin. — There  you  come 
to  an  end  ;  you  have  nothing  more  to  say.  What  ?  do  you  not  take 
God's  name  in  vain  ?  only  when  you  are  angry ;  that  is,  I  suppose,  you 
are  subject  to  fits  of  violent  passion,  in  which  you  use  every  shocking 
word  which  the  devil  puts  into  your  mouth,  and  abuse  and  curse,  and 
perhaps  strike  the  objects  of  your  anger  ? — Only  now  and  then,  you  say, 
when  you  are  in  liquor.  Then  it  seems  you  are  given  to  intoxication  ? — 
you  answer,  you  never  drink  so  much  as  not  to  know  what  you  are  doing. 
Do  you  really  mean  that  for  an  excuse  ?  Well,  have  you  improved  in 
these  respects  in  the  course  of  several  years  past  ?  You  cannot  say  you 
have,  but  such  sins  are  not  mortal  at  the  most.  Then,  I  suppose,  you 
have  not  lately  fallen  into  mortal  sin  at  all  ?  You  pause,  and  then  you 
are  obliged  to  confess  that  you  have,  and  that  once  and  again ;  and  the 
more  I  question  you,  perhaps  the  longer  becomes  the  catalogue  of  offenses 
which  have  separated  you  from  God.  But  this  is  not  all ;  your  sole  idea 
of  sin  is,  the  sinning  in  act  and  in  deed  ;  sins  of  habit,  which  cling  so  close 
to  you  that  they  are  difficult  to  detect,  and  manifest  themselves  in  slight 
but  continual  influences  on  your  thoughts,  words,  and  works,  do  not  en- 
gage your  attention  at  all.  You  are  selfish,  and  obstinate,  and  worldly, 
and  self-indulgent ;  you  neglect  your  children ;  you  are  fond  of  idle 
amusements ;  you  scarcely  ever  think  of  God  from  day  to  day,  for  I  can- 
not call  your  hurried  prayers  morning  and  night  any  thinking  of  Him  at 
all.  You  are  friends  with  the  world,  and  live  a  good  deal  among  those 
who  have  no  sense  of  religion. 

Now  what  have  you  to  tell  me  which  will  set  against  this?  what  good 


154  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

have  you  done  ?  in  what  is  your  hope  of  heaven  ?  whence  do  you  gain  it  ?* 
You  perhaps  answer  me,  that  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  reconciles  you 
from  time  to  time  to  God  ;  that  you  live  in  the  world  ;  that  you  are  not 
called  to  the  religious  state ;  that  it  is  true  you  love  the  world  more 
than  God,  but  that  you  love  God  sufficiently  for  salvation,  and  that  you 
rely  in  the  hour  of  death  upon  the  powerful  intercession  of  the  Blessed 
Mother  of  God.  Then  besides,  you  have  a  number  of  good  points,  which 
you  go  through,  and  which  are  to  you  signs  that  you  are  in  the  grace  of 
God  ;  you  conceive  that  your  state  at  worst  is  one  of  tepidity.  Tepidity ! 
I  tell  you,  you  have  no  marks  of  tepidity  ;  do  you  wish  to  know  what  a. 
tepid  person  is?  one  who  has  begun  to  lead  almost  the  life  of  a  Saint, 
and  has  fallen  from  his  fervor ;  one  who  retains  his  good  practices,  but 
does  them  without  devotion  ;  one  who  does  so  much,  that  we  only  blame 
him  for  not  doing  more.  No,  you  need  not  confess  tepidity,  my  brother ; 
— do  you  wish  to  have  the  judgment  which  I  am  led  to  form  about  you  ? 
it  is,  that  probably  you  are  not  in  the  grace  of  God  at  all.  The  probability 
is,  that  for  a  long  while  past  you  have  gone  to  Confession  without  the 
proper  dispositions,  without  real  grief,  and  without  sincere  purpose  of 
amendment  for  your  sins.  You  are  probably  such,  that  were  you  to  die 
this  night,  you  would  be  lost  forever.  What  do  you  do  more  than  nature 
does  ?  You  do  certain  good  things ;  "  what  reward  have  ye  ?  do  not  even 
the  publicans  so?  what  do  ye  more  than  others?  do  not  even  the 
heathen  so  ?  "  You  have  the  ordinary  virtues  of  human  nature,  or  some 
of  tHem  ;  you  are  what  nature  made  you,  and  care  not  to  be  better. 
You  may  be  naturally  kind-hearted,  and  then  you  do  charitable  actions  to- 
others; you  have  a  natural  strength  of  character, — if  so,  you  are  able  to 
bring  your  passions  under  the  power  of  reason ;  you  have  a  natural 
energy,  and  you  labor  for  your  family  ;  you  are  naturally  mild,  and  so  you 
do  not  quarrel ;  you  have  a  dislike  of  intemperance,  and  therefore  you  are 
sober.  You  have  the  virtues  of  your  Protestant  neighbors,  and  their 
faults  too ;  what  are  you  better  than  they  ? 

Here  is  another  grave  matter  against  you,  that  you  are  so  well  with 
the  Protestants  about  you ;  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you  are  not  bound 
to  cultivate  peace  with  all  men,  and  to  do  them  all  the  offices  of  charity 
in  your  power.  Of  course  you  are,  and  if  they  respect,  esteem,  and  love 
you,  it  redounds  to  your  praise  and  will  gain  you  a  reward ;  but  I  mean 
more  than  this ;  I  mean  they  do  not  respect  you,  but  they  like  you,  be- 
cause they  think  of  you  as  of  themselves,  they  see  no  difference  between 
themselves  and  you.  This  is  the  very  reason  why  they  so  often  take 
your  part,  and  assert  or  defend  your  political  rights.  Here  again,  there  is 
a  sense  of  course  in  which  our  civil  rights  may  be  advocated  by  Protestants 
without  any  reflection  on  us,  and  with  honor  to  them.     We  are  like 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  155- 

others  in  this,  that  we  are  men ;  that  we  are  members  of  the  same  State 
with  them,  subjects,  contented  subjects,  of  the  same  Sovereign,  that  we 
have  a  dependence  on  them,  and  have  them  dependent  on  us ;  that,  like 
them,  we  feel  pain  when  ill-used,  and  are  grateful  when  well  treated.  We 
need  not  be  ashamed  of  a  fellowship  like  this,  and  those  who  recognize  it 
in  us  are  generous  in  doing  so.  But  we  have  much  cause  to  be  ashamed, 
and  much  cause  to  be  anxious  what  God  thinks  of  us,  if  we  gain  their 
support  by  giving  them  a  false  impression  in  our  persons  of  what  the 
Catholic  Church  is  and  what  Catholics  are  bound  to  be,  what  bound  to 
believe,  and  to  do ;  and  is  not  this  the  case  often,  my  brethren,  that  the 
world  takes  up  your  interests,  because  you  share  its  sins? 

Nature  is  one  with  nature,  grace  with  grace ;  the  world  then  witnesses 
against  you  by  being  good  friends  with  you  ;  you  could  not  have  got  on 
with  the  world  so  well,  without  surrendering  something  which  was 
precious  and  sacred.  The  world  likes  you,  all  but  your  professed  creed ;. 
distinguishes  you  from  your  creed  in  its  judgment  of  you,  and  would  fain 
separate  you  from  it  in  fact.  Men  say,  "  These  persons  are  better  than 
their  Church  ;  we  have  not  a  word  to  say  for  their  Church  ;  but  Catholics 
are  not  what  they  were,  they  are  very  much  like  other  men  now.  Their 
Creed  certainly  is  bigoted  and  cruel,  but  what  would  you  have  of  them  ? 
You  cannot  expect  them  to  confess  this;  let  them  change  quietly,  no  one 
changes  in  public, — be  satisfied  that  they  are  changed.  They  are  as  fond 
of  the  world  as  we  are ;  they  take  up  political  objects  as  warmly ;  they 
like  their  own  way  just  as  well ;  they  do  not  like  strictness  a  whit  better  ^ 
they  hate  spiritual  thraldom,  and  they  are  half  ashamed  of  the  Pope  and 
his  Councils.  They  hardly  believe  any  miracles  now,  and  are  annoyed 
when  their  own  brethren  confess  that  there  are  such ;  they  never  speak  of 
purgatory ;  they  are  sore  about  images  ;  they  avoid  the  subject  of  In- 
dulgences ;  and  they  will  not  commit  themselves  to  the  doctrine  of  ex- 
clusive salvation.  The  Catholic  doctrines  are  now  mere  badges  of  party. 
Catholics  think  for  themselves  and  judge  for  themselves,  just  as  we  do  ; 
they  are  kept  in  their  Church  by  a  point  of  honor,  and  a  reluctance  at 
seeming  to  abandon  a  fallen  cause:" 

Such  is  the  judgment  of  the  world,  and  you,  my  brethren,  are  shocked 
to  hear  it ; — but  may  it  not  be,  that  the  world  knows  more  about  you 
than  you  know  about  yourselves?  "  If  ye  had  been  of  the  world,"  says 
Christ,  "  the  world  would  love  its  own ;  but  because  ye  are  not  of  the 
world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world 
hateth  you."  So  speaks  Christ  of  His  Apostles.  How  run  His  words 
when  applied  to  you  ?  "  If  ye  be  of  the  world,  the  world  will  love  its 
own ;  therefore  ye  are  of  the  world,  and  I  have  not  chosen  you 
out  of  the  world,  because  the  world  doth  love  you."     Do  not  complain 


156  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

of  the  world's  imputing  to  you  more  than  is  true ;  those  who  live 
as  the  world  lives  give  countenance  to  those  who  think  them  of  the 
world,  and  seem  to  form  but  one  party  with  them.  In  proportion  as  you 
put  off  the  yoke  of  Christ,  so  does  the  world  by  a  sort  of  instinct  recog- 
nize  you,  and  think  well  of  you  accordingly.  Its  highest  compliment  is 
to  tell  you  that  you  disbelieve.  O  my  brethren,  there  is  an  eternal  en- 
mity between  the  world  and  the  Church.  The  Church  declares  by  the 
mouth  of  an  Apostle,  "  Whoso  will  be  a  friend  of  the  world,  becomes  an 
enemy  of  God ";  and  the  world  retorts,  and  calls  the  Church  apostate, 
sorceress,  Beelzebub,  and  Antichrist.  She  is  the  image  and  the  mother 
of  the  predestinate,  and,  if  you  would  be  found  among  her  children  when 
you  die,  you  must  have  part  in  her  reproach  while  you  live.  Does  not 
the  world  scoff  at  all  that  is  glorious,  all  that  is  majestic,  in  our  holy  re- 
ligion ?  Does  it  not  speak  against  the  special  creations  of  God's  grace  ? 
Does  it  not  disbelieve  the  possibility  of  purity  and  chastity  ?  Does  it  not 
slander  the  profession  of  celibacy  ?  Does  it  not  deny  the  virginity  of 
Mary?  Does  it  not  cast  out  her  very  name  as  evil  ?  Does  it  not  scorn 
her  as  "  a  dead  woman,"  whom  you  know  to  be  the  Mother  of  all  the  liv- 
ing, and  the  great  Intercessor  of  the  faithful  ?  Does  it  not  ridicule  the 
Saints?  Does  it  not  make  light  of  their  relics?  Does  it  not  despise  the 
Sacraments?  Does  it  not  blaspheme  the  awful  Presence  which  dwells 
upon  our  altars,  and  mock  bitterly  and  fiercely  at  our  believing  that  what 
it  calls  bread  and  wine  is  that  very  same  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lamb, 
which  lay  in  Mary's  womb  and  hung  on  the  Cross  ?  What  are  we,  that 
we  should  be  better  treated  than  our  Lord,  and  His  Mother,  and  His 
servants,  and  His  works  ?  Nay,  what  are  we,  if  we  be  better  treated,  but 
friends  of  those  who  thus  treat  us  well,  and  who  ill-treat  Him  ? 

O  my  dear  brethren,  be  children  of  grace,  not  of  nature ;  be  not  se- 
duced by  this  world's  sophistries  and  assumptions  ;  it  pretends  to  be  the 
work  of  God,  but  in  reality  it  comes  of  Satan.  "  I  know  my  sheep,"  says 
our  Lord,  "  and  mine  know  me,  and  they  follow  me."  "  Show  me,  O 
Thou  whom  my  soul  loveth,"  says  the  Bride  in  the  Canticle,  "  where  Thou 
feedest,  where  Thou  restest  at  noon  ";  and  He  answers  her,  "  Go  forth,  and 
follow  after  the  steps  of  the  flocks,  and  feed  thy  kids  beside  the  shepherds' 
tents."  Let  us  follow  the  Saints,  as  they  follow  Christ ;  so  that,  when  He 
comes  in  judgment,  and  the  wretched  world  sinks  to  perdition,  "  on  us  sin- 
ners. His  servants,  hoping  in  the  multitude  of  His  mercies.  He  may  vouch- 
safe to  bestow  some  portion  and  fellowship  with  His  Holy  Apostles  and 
Martyrs,  with  John,  Stephen,  Matthias,  Barnabas,  Ignatius,  Alexander, 
Marcelline,  Peter,  Felicity,  Perpetua,  Agatha,  Lucy,  Agnes,  Cicely,  Anas- 
tasia,  and  all  His  Saints,  not  for  the  value  of  our  merit,  but  according 
to  the  bounty  of  His  pardon,  through  the  same  Christ  our  Lord." 


FAITH  AND  PRIVATE  JUDGMENT. 

HEN  we  consider  the  beauty,  the  majesty,  the  completeness,  the 
resources,  the  consolations,  of  the  Catholic  Religion,  it  may 
strike  us  with  wonder,  my  brethren,  that  it  does  not  convert 
the  multitude  of  those  who  come  in  its  way.  Perhaps  you 
have  felt  this  surprise  yourselves ;  especially  those  of  you  who  have  been 
recently  converted,  and  can  compare  it,  from  experience,  with  those 
religions  which  the  millions  of  this  country  choose  instead  of  it.  You 
know,  from  experience,  how  barren,  unmeaning,  and  baseless  those  relig- 
ions are ;  what  poor  attractions  they  have,  and  how  little  they  have  to 
say  for  themselves.  Multitudes,  indeed,  are  of  no  religion  at  all ;  and  you 
may  not  be  surprised  that  those  who  cannot  even  bear  the  thought  of 
God,  should  not  feel  drawn  to  His  Church ;  numbers,  too,  hear  very  little 
about  Catholicism,  or  a  great  deal  of  abuse  and  calumny  against  it,  and 
you  may  not  be  surprised  that  they  do  not  all  at  once  become  Catholics; 
but  what  may  fairly  surprise  those  who  enjoy  the  fulness  of  Catholic 
blessings  is,  that  those  who  see  the  Church  ever  so  distantly,  who  see 
even  gleams  or  the  faint  lustre  of  her  majesty,  nevertheless  should  not  be 
so  far  attracted  by  what  they  see  as  to  seek  to  see  more, — should  not  at 
least  put  themselves  in  the  way  to  be  led  on  to  the  Truth,  which  of  course 
is  not  ordinarily  recognized  in  its  divine  authority  except  by  degrees. 
Moses,  when  he  saw  the  burning  bush,  turned  aside  to  see  "  that  great 
sight ";  Nathanael,  though  he  thought  no  good  could  come  out  of  Naz- 
areth, at  least  followed  Philip  to  Christ,  when  Philip  said  to  him,  "  Come 
and  see  ";  but  the  multitudes  about  us  see  and  hear,  in  some  measure, 
surely, — many  in  ample  measure, — and  yet  are  not  persuaded  thereby  to 
see  and  hear  more,  are  not  moved  to  act  upon  their  knowledge.  Seeing 
they  see  not,  and  hearing  they  hear  not ;  they  are  contented  to  remain  as  they 
are;  they  are  not  drawn  to  inquire,  or  at  least  not  drawn  on  to  embrace. 
Many  explanations  may  be  given  of  this  difficulty ;  I  will  proceed  to 
suggest  to  you  one,  which  will  sound  like  a  truism,  but  yet  has  a  meaning 
in  it.  Men  do  not  become  Catholics,  because  they  have  not  faith.  Now 
you  may  ask  me,  how  this  is  saying  more  than  that  men  do  not  believe 
the  Catholic  Church  because  they  do  not  believe  it ;  which  is  saying  noth- 
ing at  all.  Our  Lord,  for  instance,  says,  "  He  who  cometh  to  me  shall 
not  hunger,  and  he  who  believeth  in  me  shall  never  thirst  "; — to  believe 

(157) 


158  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

then  and  to  come  are  the  same  thing.  If  they  had  faith,  of  course  they 
would  join  the  Church,  for  the  very  meaning,  the  very  exercise  of  faith, 
is  joining  the  Church.  But  I  mean  something  more  than  this  :  faith  is  a 
state  of  mind,  it  is  a  particular  mode  of  thinking  and  acting,  which  is 
exercised,  always  indeed  toward  God,  but  in  very  various  ways.  Now  I 
mean  to  say,  that  the  multitude  of  men  in  this  country  have  not  this 
habit  or  character  of  mind.  We  could  conceive,  for  instance,  their 
believing  in  their  own  religions,  even  if  they  did  not  believe  in  the 
Church ;  this  would  be  faith,  though  a  faith  improperly  directed ;  but 
they  do  not  believe  even  their  own  religions ;  they  do  not  believe  in  any- 
thing at  all.  It  is  a  definite  defect  in  their  minds ;  as  we  might  say  that 
a  person  had  not  the  virtue  of  meekness,  or  of  liberality,  or  of  prudence, 
■quite  independently  of  this  or  that  exercise  of  the  virtue,  so  there  is  such 
a  religious  virtue  as  faith,  and  there  is  such  a  defect  as  the  absence  of  it. 
Now  I  mean  to  say  that  the  great  mass  of  men  in  this  country  have  not 
this  particular  virtue  called  faith,  have  not  this  virtue  at  all.  As  a  man 
might  be  without  eyes  or  without  hands,  so  they  are  without  faith  ;  it  is 
a  distinct  want  or  fault  in  their  soul ;  and  what  I  say  is,  that  since  they 
have  not  this  faculty  of  religious  belief,  no  wonder  they  do  not  embrace 
that,  which  cannot  really  be  embraced  without  it.  They  do  not  believe 
any  teaching  at  all  in  any  true  sense ;  and  therefore  they  do  not  believe 
the  Church  in  particular. 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  what  is  faith  ?  it  is  assenting  to  a  doctrine  as  true, 
which  we  do  not  see,  which  we  cannot  prove,  because  God  says  it  is  true,  who 
cannot  lie.  And  further  than  this,  since  God  says  it  is  true,  not  with  His 
own  voice,  but  by  the  voice  of  His  messengers,  it  is  assenting  to  what  man 
says,  not  simply  viewed  as  a  man,  but  to  what  he  is  commissioned  to 
declare,  as  a  messenger,  prophet,  or  ambassador  from  God.  In  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  this  world  we  account  things  true  either  because  we  see 
them,  or  because  we  can  perceive  that  they  follow  and  are  deducible  from 
"what  we  do  see ;  that  is,  we  gain  truth  by  sight  or  by  reason,  not  by  faith. 
You  will  say  indeed,  that  we  accept  a  number  of  things  which  we  cannot 
prove  or  see,  on  the  word  of  others ;  certainly ;  but  then  we  accept  what 
they  say  only  as  the  word  of  man ;  and  we  have  not  commonly  that 
absolute  and  unreserved  confidence  in  them,  which  nothing  can  shake. 
We  know  that  man  is  open  to  mistake,  and  we  are  always  glad  to  find 
some  confirmation  of  what  he  says,  from  other  quarters,  in  any  important 
matter;  or  we  receive  his  information  with  negligence  and  unconcern,  as 
something  of  little  consequence,  as  a  matter  of  opinion  ;  or,  if  we  act  upon 
it,  it  is  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  thinking  it  best  and  safest  to  do  so.  We 
take  his  word  for  what  it  is  worth,  and  we  use  it  either  according  to  our 
necessity,  or  its  probability.     We  keep  the  decision  in  our  own  hands, 


CARDINAL    NEWMAN.  159 

and  reserve  to  ourselves  the  right  of  reopening  the  question  wherever  we 
please.  This  is  very  different  from  divine  faith ;  he  who  believes  that 
God  is  true,  and  that  this  is  His  word,  which  He  has  committed  to  man, 
has  no  doubt  at  all.  He  is  as  certain  that  the  doctrine  taught  is  true,  as 
that  God  is  true ;  and  he  is  certain,  because  God  is  true,  because  God  has 
spoken,  not  because  he  sees  its  truth  or  can  prove  its  truth.  That  is, 
faith  has  two  peculiarities ; — it  is  most  certain,  decided,  positive,  immov- 
able in  its  assent,  and  it  gives  this  assent  not  because  it  sees  with  the  eye, 
or  sees  with  the  reason,  but  because  it  receives  the  tidings  from  one  who 
comes  from  God. 

That  is  what  faith  was  in  the  time  of  the  Apostles,  as  no  one  can 
deny ;  and  what  it  was  then,  it  must  be  now,  else  it  ceases  to  be  the  same 
thing.  I  say,  it  certainly  was  this  in  the  Apostles'  time,  for  you  know 
they  preached  to  the  world  that  Christ  was  the  Son  of  God,  that  He  was 
born  of  a  Virgin,  that  He  had  ascended  on  high,  that  He  would  come 
again  to  judge  all,  the  living  and  the  dead.  Could  the  world  see  all  this? 
could  it  prove  it  ?  how  then  were  men  to  receive  it  ?  why  did  so  many 
embrace  it  ?  on  the  word  of  the  Apostles,  who  were,  as  their  powers 
showed,  messengers  from  God.  Men  were  told  to  submit  their  reason  to 
a  living  authority.  Moreover,  whatever  an  Apostle  said,  his  converts 
were  bound  to  believe ;  when  they  entered  the  Church,  they  entered  it  in 
order  to  learn.  The  Church  was  their  teacher;  they  did  not  come  to 
argue,  to  examine,  to  pick  and  choose,  but  to  accept  whatever  was  put 
before  them.  No  one  doubts,  no  one  can  doubt  this,  of  those  primitive 
times.  A  Christian  was  bound  to  take  without  doubting  all  that  the 
Apostles  declared  to  be  revealed ;  if  the  Apostles  spoke,  he  had  to  yield 
an  internal  assent  of  his  mind  ;  it  would  not  be  enough  to  keep  silence, 
it  would  not  be  enough  not  to  oppose  :  it  was  not  allowable  to  credit  in 
a  measure ;  it  was  not  allowable  to  doubt.  No ;  if  a  convert  had  his  own 
private  thoughts  of  what  was  said,  and  only  kept  them  to  himself,  if  he 
made  some  secret  opposition  to  the  teaching,  if  he  waited  for  farther 
proof  before  he  believed  it,  this  would  be  a  proof  that  he  did  not  think 
the  Apostles  were  sent  from  God  to  reveal  His  will ;  it  would  be  a  proof 
that  he  did  not  in  any  true  sense  believe  at  all.  Immediate,  implicit  sub- 
mission of  the  mind  was,  in  the  lifetime  of  the  Apostles,  the  only,  the 
necessary  token  of  faith ;  then  there  was  no  room  whatever  for  what  is 
now  called  private  judgment.  No  one  could  say,  *'  I  will  choose  my 
religion  for  myself,  I  will  believe  this,  I  will  not  believe  that ;  I  will 
pledge  myself  to  nothing ;  I  will  believe  just  as  long  as  I  please  and  no 
longer;  what  I  believe  to-day  I  will  reject  to-morrow,  if  I  choose.  I  will 
believe  what  the  Apostles  have  as  yet  said,  but  I  will  not  believe  what 
they  shall  say  in  time  to  come."     No ;  either  the  Apostles  were  from 


160  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

God,  or  they  were  not ;  if  they  were,  everything  that  they  preached  was 
to  be  believed  by  their  hearers  ;  if  they  were  not,  there  was  nothing  for 
their  hearers  to  believe.  To  believe  a  little,  to  believe  more  or  less,  was 
impossible ;  it  contradicted  the  very  notion  of  believing ;  if  one  part  was  to 
be  believed,  every  part  was  to  be  believed ;  it  was  an  absurdity  to  believe, 
one  thing  and  not  another ;  for  the  word  of  the  Apostles,  which  made  the 
one  true,  made  the  other  true  too  ;  they  were  nothing  in  themselves,  they 
were  all  things,  they  were  an  infallible  authority,  as  coming  from  God. 
The  world  had  either  to  become  Christian,  or  to  let  it  alone ;  there  was 
no  room  for  private  tastes  and  fancies,  no  room  for  private  judgment. 

Now  surely  this  is  quite  clear  from  the  nature  of  the  case ;  but  is  also 
clear  from  the  words  of  Scripture.  "  We  give  thanks  to  God,"  says 
St.  Paul,  "without  ceasing,  because  when  ye  had  received  from  us  the 
word  of  hearing,  which  is  of  God,  ye  received  it,  not  as  the  word  of  men, 
but  (as  it  is  indeed)  the  word  of  God."  Here  you  see  St.  Paul  expresses 
what  I  have  said  above  ;  that  the  word  comes  from  God,  that  it  is  spoken 
by  men,  that  it  must  be  received,  not  as  man's  word,  but  as  God's  word. 
So  in  another  place  he  says,  "  He  who  despiseth  these  things,  despiseth 
not  man,  but  God,  who  hath  also  given  in  us  His  Holy  Spirit."  Our 
Saviour  had  made  a  like  declaration  already,  "  He  that  heareth  you, 
heareth  me;  and  he  that  despiseth  you,  despiseth  me;  and  he  that  de- 
spiseth me,  despiseth  Him  that  sent  me."  Accordingly  St.  Peter  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost  said,  "  Men  of  Israel,  hear  these  words,  God  hath  raised 
up  this  Jesus,  whereof  we  are  witnesses.  Let  all  the  house  of  Israel 
know  most  certainly  that  God  hath  made  this  Jesus,  whom  you  have 
crucified,  both  Lord  and  Christ."  At  another  time  he  said,  **  We  ought 
to  obey  God,  rather  than  man ;  we  are  witnesses  of  these  things,  and  so 
is  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom  God  has  given  to  a41  who  obey  Him."  And 
again,  "  He  commanded  us  to  preach  to  the  people,  and  to  testify  that 
it  is  He  (Jesus)  who  hath  been  appointed  by  God  to  be  the  Judge  of  the 
living  and  of  the  dead."  And  you  know  that  the  persistent  declaration 
of  the  first  preachers  was,  "  Believe  and  thou  shalt  be  saved  ":  they  do 
not  say,  "  prove  our  doctrine  by  your  own  reason,"  nor  "  wait  till  you 
see  before  you  believe ";  but,  "  believe  without  seeing  and  without 
proving,  because  our  word  is  not  our  own,  but  God's  word."  Men 
might  indeed  use  their  reason  in  inquiring  into  the  pretensions  of  the 
Apostles ;  they  might  inquire  whether  or  not  they  did  miracles ;  they 
might  inquire  whether  they  were  predicted  in  the  Old  Testament  as 
coming  from  God ;  but  when  they  had  ascertained  this  fairly  in  whatever 
way,  they  were  to  take  all  the  Apostles  said  for  granted  without  proof; 
they  were  to  exercise  their  faith,  they  were  to  be  saved  by  hearing. 
Hence,  as  you  perhaps  observed,  St.  Paul  significantly  calls  the  revealed 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  161 

doctrine  "the  word  of  hearing,"  in  the  passage  I  quoted;  men  came  to 
hear,  to  accept,  to  obey,  not  to  criticise  what  was  said  ;  and  in  accordance 
with  this  he  asks  elsewhere,  "  How  shall  they  believe  Him,  whom  they 
have  not  heard?  and  how  shall  they  hear  without  a  preacher?  Faith 
cometh  by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  word  of  Christ." 

Now,  my  dear  brethren,  consider,  are  not  these  two  states  or  acts  of 
mind  quite  distinct  from  each  other: — to  believe  simply  what  a  living 
authority  tells  you ;  and  to  take  a  book,  such  as  Scripture,  and  to  use  it 
as  you  please,  to  master  it,  that  is,  to  make  yourself  the  master  of  it,  to 
interpret  it  for  yourself,  and  to  admit  just  what  you  choose  to  see  in  it, 
and  nothing  more?  Are  not  these  two  procedures  distinct  in  this,  that 
in  the  former  you  submit,  in  the  latter  you  judge?  At  this  moment  I 
am  not  asking  you  which  is  the  better,  I  am  not  asking  whether  this  or 
that  is  practicable  now,  but  are  they  not  two  ways  of  taking  up  a  doc- 
trine, and  not  one  ?  is  not  submission  quite  contrary  to  judging  ?  Now, 
is  it  not  certain  that  faith  in  the  time  of  the  Apostles  consisted  in  sub- 
mitting? and  is  it  not  certain  that  it  did  not  consist  in  judging  for  one's 
self?  It  is  in  vain  to  say  that  the  man  who  judges  from  the  Apostles' 
writings,  does  submit  to  those  writings  in  the  first  instance,  and  therefore 
has  faith  in  them  ;  else  why  should  he  refer  to  them  at  all  ?  There  is,  I 
repeat,  an  essential  difference  between  the  act  of  submitting  to  a  living 
oracle,  and  to  his  written  words ;  in  the  former  case  there  is  no  appeal 
from  the  speaker,  in  the  latter  the  final  decision  remains  with  the  reader. 
Consider  how  different  is  the  confidence  with  which  you  report  another's 
words  in  his  presence  and  in  his  absence.  If  he  be  absent,  you  boldly 
say  that  he  holds  so  and  so,  or  said  so  and  so ;  but  let  him  come  into  the 
room  in  the  midst  of  the  conversation,  and  your  tone  is  immediately 
changed.  It  is  then,  "  \  think  I  have  heard  you  say  something  like  this, 
or  what  I  took  to  be  this  ";  or  you  modify  considerably  the  statement  or 
the  fact  to  which  you  originally  pledged  him,  dropping  one-half  of  it  for 
safety-sake,  or  retrenching  the  most  startling  portions  of  it ;  and  then 
after  all  you  wait  with  some  anxiety  to  see  whether  he  will  accept  any 
portion  of  it  at  all.  The  same  sort  of  process  takes  place  in  the  case  of 
the  written  document  of  a  person  now  dead.  I  can  fancy  a  man  magis- 
terially expounding  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  or  to  the  Ephe- 
sians,  who  would  be  better  content  with  the  writer's  absence  than  his 
sudden  reappearance  among  us ;  lest  the  Apostle  should  take  his  own 
meaning  out  of  his  commentator's  hands  and  explain  it  for  himself.  In  a 
word,  though  he  says  he  has  faith  in  St.  Paul's  writings,  he  confessedly 
has  no  faith  in  St.  Paul ;  and  though  he  may  speak  much  about  truth  as 
found  in  Scripture,  he  has  no  wish  at  all  to  be  like  one  of  these  Christians 
whose  names  and  deeds  occur  in  it. 


162  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

I  think  I  may  assume  that  this  virtue,  which  was  exercised  by  the 
first  Christians,  is  not  known  at  all  among  Protestants  now ;  or  at  least 
if  there  are  instances  of  it,  it  is  exercised  toward  those,  I  mean  their  own 
teachers  and  divines,  who  expressly  disclaim  that  they  are  fit  objects  of 
it,  and  who  exhort  their  people  to  judge  for  themselves.  Protestants, 
generally  speaking,  have  not  faith,  in  the  primitive  meaning  of  that 
word ;  this  is  clear  from  what  I  have  been  saying,  and  here  is  a  con- 
firmation of  it.  If  men  believed  now,  as  they  did  in  the  times  of  the 
Apostles,  they  could  not  doubt  nor  change.  No  one  can  doubt  whether 
a  word  spoken  by  God  is  to  be  believed ;  of  course  it  is ;  whereas  any 
one,  who  is  modest  and  humble,  may  easily  be  brought  to  doubt  of  his 
own  inferences  and  deductions.  Since  men  nowadays  deduce  from 
Scripture,  instead  of  believing  a  teacher,  you  may  expect  to  see  them 
waver  about ;  they  will  feel  the  force  of  their  own  deductions  more 
strongly  at  one  time  than  at  another,  they  will  change  their  minds  about 
them,  or  perhaps  deny  them  altogether ;  whereas  this  cannot  be,  while  a 
man  has  faith,  that  is>  belief  that  what  a  preacher  says  to  him  comes  from 
God.  This  is  what  St.  Paul  especially  insists  on,  telling  us  that  Apostles, 
prophets,  evangelists,  pastors,  and  teachers,  are  given  us  that  "  we  may 
all  attain  to  unity  of  faith,"  and,  on  the  contrary,  in  order  "  that  we  be 
not  as  children  tossed  to  and  fro,  and  carried  about  by  every  gale  of 
doctrine."  Now,  in  matter  of  fact,  do  not  men  in  this  day  change  about 
in  their  religious  opinions  without  any  limit?  Is  not  this,  then,  a  proof 
that  they  have  not  that  faith  which  the  Apostles  demanded  of  their  con- 
verts? If  they  had  faith,  they  would  not  change.  Once  believe  that 
God  has  spoken,  and  you  are  sure  He  cannot  unsay  what  He  has  already 
said  ;  He  cannot  deceive  ;  He  cannot  change  ;  you  have  received  it  once 
for  all ;  you  will  believe  it  ever. 

Such  is  the  only  rational,  consistent  account  of  faith ;  but  so  far  are 
Protestants  from  professing  it,  that  they  laugh  at  the  very  notion  of  it. 
They  laugh  at  the  notion  itself  of  men  pinning  their  faith  (as  they 
express  themselves)  upon  Pope  or  Council ;  they  think  it  simply  super- 
stitious and  narrow-minded,  to  profess  to  believe  just  what  the  Church 
believes,  and  to  assent  to  whatever  she  shall  say  in  time  to  come  on 
matters  of  doctrine.  That  is,  they  laugh  at  the  bare  notion  of  doing 
what  Christians  undeniably  did  in  the  time  of  the  Apostles.  Observe, 
they  do  not  merely  ask  whether  the  Catholic  Church  has  a  claim  to 
teach,  has  authority,  has  the  gifts ; — this  is  a  reasonable  question  ; — no, 
they  think  that  the  very  state  of  mind,  which  such  a  claim  involves  in 
those  who  admit  it,  namely,  the  disposition  to  accept  without  reserve  or 
question,  that  this  is  slavish.  They  call  it  priestcraft  to  insist  on  this 
surrender  of  the  reason,  and   superstition  to  make  it.     That   is,  they 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  163 

quarrel  with  the  very  state  of  mind  which  all  Christians  had  in  the  age 
of  the  Apostles ;  nor  is  there  any  doubt  (who  will  deny  it  ?)  that  those 
who  thus  boast  of  not  being  led  blindfold,  of  judging  for  themselves,  of 
believing  just  as  much  and  just  as  little  as  they  please,  of  hating  dic- 
tation and  so  forth,  would  have  found  it  an  extreme  difficulty  to  hang  on 
the  lips  of  the  Apostles,  had  they  lived  at  their  date,  or  rather  would 
have  simply  resisted  the  sacrifice  of  their  own  liberty  of  thought,  would 
have  thought  Bfe  eternal  too  dearly  purchased  at  such  a  price,  and  would 
have  died  in  their  unbelief.  And  they  would  have  defended  themselves 
on  the  plea  that  it  was  absurd  and  childish  to  ask  them  to  believe  without 
proof,  to  bid  them  give  up  their  education,  and  their  intelligence,  and 
their  science,  and,  in  spite  of  all  those  difficulties  which  reason  and  sense 
find  in  the  Christian  doctrine,  in  spite  of  its  mysteriousness,  its  obscurity, 
its  strangeness,  its  unacceptableness,  its  severity,  to  require  them  to  sur- 
render themselves  to  the  teaching  of  a  few  unlettered  Galilaeans,  or  a 
learned,  indeed,  but  fanatical  Pharisee.  This  is  what  they  would  have 
said  then ;  and  if  so,  is  it  wonderful  they  do  not  become  Catholics  now  ? 
The  simple  account  of  their  remaining  as  they  are,  is,  that  they  lack  one 
thing, — they  have  not  faith ;  it  is  a  state  of  mind,  it  is  a  virtue,  which 
they  do  not  recognize  to  be  praiseworthy,  which  they  do  not  aim  at 
possessing. 

What  they  feel  now,  my  brethren,  is  just  what  both  Jew  and  Greek 
felt  before  them  in  the  time  of  the  Apostles,  and  what  the  natural  man 
has  felt  ever  since.  The  great  and  wise  men  of  the  day  looked  down 
upon  faith,  then  as  now,  as  if  it  were  unworthy  the  dignity  of  human 
nature.  "  See  your  vocation,  brethren,  that  there  are  not  "  among  you 
"  many  wise  according  to  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble ; 
but  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  hath  God  chosen  to  confound  the 
strong,  and  the  mean  things  of  the  world,  and  the  things  that  are  con- 
temptible, hath  God  chosen,  and  things  that  are  not,  that  He  might 
destroy  the  things  that  are,  that  no  flesh  might  glory  in  His  sight." 
Hence  the  same  Apostle  speaks  of  "  the  foolishness  of  preaching."  Sim- 
ilar to  this  is  what  our  Lord  had  said  in  His  prayer  to  the  Father :  "  I 
thank  Thee,  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  because  Thou  hast  hid 
these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto 
little  ones."  Now  is  it  not  plain  that  men  of  this  day  have  just  inherited 
the  feelings  and  traditions  of  these  falsely  wise  and  fatally  prudent  per- 
sons in  our  Lord's  day?  They  have  the  same  obstruction  in  their  hearts 
to  entering  the  Catholic  Church,  which  Pharisees  and  Sophists  had  before 
them ;  it  goes  against  them  to  believe  her  doctrine,  not  so  much  for  want 
of  evidence  that  she  is  from  God,  as  because,  if  so,  they  shall  have  to  sub- 
mit their  minds  to  living  men,  who  have  not  their  own  cultivation  or 


164  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

depth  of  intellect,  and  because  they  must  receive  a  number  of  doctrines, 
whether  they  will  or  no,  which  are  strange  to  their  imagination  and  diffi- 
cult to  their  reason.  The  very  characteristic  of  the  Catholic  teaching  and 
of  the  Catholic  teacher  is  to  them  a  preliminary  objection  to  their  becom- 
ing Catholics,  so  great,  as  to  throw  into  the  shade  any  argument,  however 
strong,  which  is  producible  in  behalf  of  the  mission  of  those  teachers 
and  the  origin  of  that  teaching.     In  short,  they  have  not  faith. 

They  have  not  in  them  the  principle  of  faith ;  and  I  repeat,  it  is 
nothing  to  the  purpose  to  urge  that  at  least  they  firmly  believe  Scripture 
to  be  the  word  of  God.  In  truth,  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that  their  ac- 
ceptance of  Scripture  itself  is  nothing  better  than  a  prejudice  or  inveter- 
ate feeling  impressed  on  them  when  they  were  children.  A  proof  of  it  is 
this :  that,  while  they  profess  to  be  so  shocked  at  Catholic  miracles,  and 
are  not  slow  to  call  them  "  lying  wonders,"  they  have  no  difficulty  at  all 
about  Scripture  narratives,  which  are  quite  as  difficult  to  the  reason  as 
any  miracles  recorded  in  the  history  of  the  Saints.  I  have  heard  on  the 
contrary  of  Catholics  who  have  been  startled  at  first  reading  in  Scripture 
the  narratives  of  the  ark  in  the  deluge,  of  the  tower  of  Babel,  of  Balaam 
and  Balac,  of  the  Israelites'  flight  from  Egypt  and  entrance  into  the 
promised  land,  and  of  Esau's  and  Saul's  rejection ;  which  the  bulk  of 
Protestants  receive  without  any  effort  of  mind.  How,  then,  do  these 
Catholics  accept  them  ?  by  faith  ?  They  say,  ''  God  is  true,  and  every 
man  a  liar."  How  come  Protestants  so  easily  to  receive  them  ?  by  faith  ? 
Nay,  I  conceive  that  in  most  cases  there  is  no  submission  of  the  reason 
at  all ;  simply  they  are  so  familiar  with  the  passages  in  question,  that  the 
narrative  presents  no  difficulties  to  their  imagination  ;  they  have  nothing 
to  overcome.  If,  however,  they  are  led  to  contemplate  these  passages  in 
themselves,  and  to  try  them  in  the  balance  of  probability,  and  to  begin 
to  question  about  them,  as  will  happen  when  their  intellect  is  cultivated, 
then  there  is  nothing  to  bring  them  back  to  their  former  habitual  or 
mechanical  belief;  they  know  nothing  of  submitting  to  authority,  that  is, 
they  know  nothing  of  faith ;  for  they  have  no  authority  to  submit  to. 
They  either  remain  in  a  state  of  doubt  without  any  great  trouble  of  mind, 
or  they  go  on  to  ripen  into  utter  disbelief  on  the  subjects  in  question, 
though  they  may  say  nothing  about  it.  Neither  before  they  doubt,  nor 
when  they  doubt,  is  there  any  token  of  the  presence  in  them  of  a  power 
subjecting  reason  to  the  word  of  God.  No;  what  looks  like  faith,  is  a 
mere  hereditary  persuasion,  not  a  personal  principle ;  ft  is  a  habit  which 
they  have  learned  in  the  nursery,  which  has  never  changed  into  anything 
higher,  and  which  is  scattered  and  disappears,  like  a  mist,  before  the  light, 
such  as  it  is,  of  reason.  If,  however,  there  are  Protestants,  who  are  not 
in  one  or  other  of  these  two  states,  either  of  credulity  or  of  doubt,  but 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  165 

who  firmly  believe  in  spite  of  all  difficulties,  they  certainly  have  some 
claim  to  be  considered  under  the  influence  of  faith  ;  but  there  is  nothing 
to  show  that  such  persons,  where  they  are  found,  are  not  in  the  way  to 
become  Catholics,  and  perhaps  they  are  already  called  so  by  their  friends, 
showing  in  their  own  examples  the  logical,  indisputable  connection  which 
exists  between  possessing  faith  and  joining  the  Church. 

If,  then,  faith  be  now  the  same  faculty  of  mind,  the  same  sort  of  habit 
or  act,  which  it  was  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  I  have  made  good  what 
I  set  about  showing.  But  it  must  be  the  same ;  it  cannot  mean  two 
things ;  the  word  cannot  have  changed  its  meaning.  Either  say  that 
faith  is  not  necessary  now  at  all,  or  take  it  to  be  what  the  Apostles  meant 
by  it,  but  do  not  say  that  you  have  it,  and  then  show  me  something  quite 
different,  which  you  have  put  in  the  place  of  it.  In  the  Apostles'  days 
the  peculiarity  of  faith  was  submission  to  a  living  authority ;  this  is  what 
made  it  so  distinctive ;  this  is  what  made  it  an  act  of  submission  at  all ; 
this  is  what  destroyed  private  judgment  in  matters  of  religion.  If  you 
will  not  look  out  for  a  living  authority,  and  will  bargain  for  private  judg- 
ment, then  say  at  once  that  you  have  not  Apostolic  faith.  And  in  fact 
you  have  it  not ;  the  bulk  of  this  nation  has  it  not ;  confess  you  have  it 
not ;  and  then  confess  that  this  is  the  reason  why  you  are  not  Catholics. 
You  are  not  Catholics  because  you  have  not  faith.  Why  do  not  blind 
men  see  the  sun  ?  because  they  have  no  eyes ;  in  like  manner  it  is  vain 
to  discourse  upon  the  beauty,  the  sanctity,  the  sublimity  of  the  Catholic 
doctrine  and  worship,  where  men  have  no  faith  to  accept  it  as  divine. 
They  may  confess  its  beauty,  sublimity,  and  sanctity,  without  believing 
it ;  they  may  acknowledge  that  the  Catholic  religion  is  noble  and  majes- 
tic ;  they  may  be  struck  with  its  wisdom,  they  may  admire  its  adaptation 
to  human  nature,  they  may  be  penetrated  by  its  tender  and  winning 
bearing,  they  may  be  awed  by  its  consistency.  But  to  commit  them- 
selves to  it,  that  is  another  matter ;  to  choose  it  for  their  portion,  to  say 
with  the  favored  Moabitess,  "  Whithersoever  thou  shalt  go,  I  will  go ! 
and  where  thou  shalt  dwell,  I  will  dwell ;  thy  people  shall  be  my  people, 
and  thy  God  my  God,"  this  is  the  language  of  faith.  A  man  may  revere, 
a  man  may  extol,  who  has  no  tendency  whatever  to  obey,  no  notion 
whatever  of  professing.  And  this  often  happens  in  fact :  men  are  respect- 
ful to  the  Catholic  religion ;  they  acknowledge  its  services  to  mankind, 
they  encourage  it  and  its  professors ;  they  like  to  know  them,  they  are 
interested  in  hearing  of  their  movements,  but  they  are  not,  and  never 
will  be,  Catholics.  They  will  die  as  they  have  lived,  out  of  the  Church, 
because  they  have  not  possessed  themselves  of  that  faculty  by  which  the 
Church  is  to  be  approached.  Catholics  who  have  not  studied  them  or  hu- 
man nature,  will  wonder  they  remain  where  they  are ;  nay,  they  themselves, 


166  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

alas  for  them  !  will  sometimes  lament  they  cannot  become  Catholics- 
They  will  feel  so  intimately  the  blessedness  of  being  a  Catholic,  that  they 
will  cry  out,  "  O,  what  would  I  give  to  be  a  Catholic !  O,  that  I  could 
believe  what  I  admire !  but  I  do  not,  and  I  can  no  more  believe  merely 
because  I  wish  to  do  so,  than  I  can  leap  over  a  mountain.  I  should  be 
much  happier  were  I  a  Catholic ;  but  I  am  not ;  it  is  no  use  deceiving 
myself;  I  am  what  I  am;  I  revere,  I  cannot  accept." 

Oh,  deplorable  state !  deplorable  because  it  is  utterly  and  absolutely 
their  own  fault,  and  because  such  great  stress  is  laid  in  Scripture,  as  they 
know,  on  the  necessity  of  faith  for  salvation.  Faith  is  there  made  the 
foundation  and  commencement  of  all  acceptable  obedience.  It  is  de- 
scribed as  the  "  argument "  or  "  proof  of  things  not  seen  ";  by  faith  men. 
have  understood  that  God  is,  that  He  made  the  world,  that  He  is  a 
rewarder  of  those  who  seek  Him,  that  the  flood  was  coming,  that  their 
Saviour  was  to  be  born.  "  Without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  God  "; 
"  by  faith  we  stand  ";  "by  faith  we  walk";  "by  faith  we  overcome  the 
world."  When  our  Lord  gave  to  the  Apostles  their  commission  to  preach 
all  over  the  world,  He  continued,  "  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized, 
shall  be  saved ;  but  he  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  condemned."  And 
He  declared  to  Nicodemus,  "  He  that  believeth  in  the  Son,  is  not  judged  ; 
but  he  that  doth  not  believe  is  already  judged,  because  he  believeth  not 
in  the  Name  of  the  Only-begotten  Son  of  God."  He  said  to  the  Phari- 
sees, "  If  you  believe  not  that  I  am  He,  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins."  To- 
the  Jews,  "Ye  believe  not,  because  ye  are  not  of  my  sheep."  And  you 
may  recollect  that  before  His  miracles,  He  commonly  demands  faith  of 
the  supplicant :  "  All  things  are  possible,"  He  says,  "  to  him  that  believ- 
eth ";  and  we  find  in  one  place  "  He  could  not  do  any  miracle,"  on  account 
of  the  unbelief  of  the  inhabitants. 

Has  faith  changed  its  meaning,  or  is  it  less  necessary  now?  Is  it  not 
still  what  it  was  in  the  Apostles'  day,  the  very  characteristic  of  Christi- 
anity, the  special  instrument  of  renovation,  the  first  disposition  for  justi- 
fication, one  out  of  the  three  theological  virtues  ?  God  might  have  re- 
newed us  by  other  means,  by  sight,  by  reason,  by  love,  but  He  has  chosen 
to  "  purify  our  hearts  by  faith  ";  it  has  been  His  will  to  select  an  instru- 
ment which  the  world  despises,  but  which  is  of  immense  power.  He  pre- 
ferred it,  in  His  infinite  wisdom,  to  every  other;  and  if  men  have  it  not, 
they  have  not  the  very  element  and  rudiment,  out  of  which  are  formed, 
on  which  are  built,  the  Saints  and  Servants  of  God.  And  they  have  it 
not,  they  are  living,  they  are  dying,  without  the  hopes,  without  the  aids, 
of  the  Gospel,  because,  in  spite  of  so  much  that  is  good  in  them,  in  spite 
of  their  sense  of  duty,  their  tenderness  of  conscience  on  many  points, 
their  benevolence,  their  uprightness,  their  generosity,  they  are  under  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN,  167 

dominion  (I  must  say  it)  of  a  proud  fiend ;  they  have  this  stout  spirit 
within  them,  they  determine  to  be  their  own  masters  in  matters  of 
thought,  about  which  they  know  so  little  ;  they  consider  their  own  reason 
better  than  any  one's  else ;  they  will  not  admit  that  any  one  comes  from 
God  who  contradicts  their  own  view  of  truth.  What !  is  none  their  equal 
in  wisdom  anywhere?  Is  there  none  other  whose  word  is  to  be  taken  on 
religion  ?  Is  there  none  to  wrest  from  them  their  ultimate  appeal  to 
themselves  ?  Have  they  in  no  possible  way  the  occasion  or  opportunity 
of  faith  ?  Is  it  a  virtue,  which,  in  consequence  of  their  transcendent  sa- 
gacity, their  prerogative  of  omniscience,  they  must  give  up  hope  of  ex- 
ercising? If  the  pretensions  of  the  Catholic  Church  do  not  satisfy  them, 
let  them  go  somewhere  else,  if  they  can.  If  they  are  so  fastidious  that 
they  cannot  trust  her  as  the  oracle  of  God,  let  them  find  another  more 
certainly  from  Him  than  the  House  of  His  own  institution,  which  has 
ever  been  called  by  His  Name,  has  ever  maintained  the  same  claims,  has 
ever  taught  one  substance  of  doctrine,  and  has  triumphed  over  those  who 
preached  any  other.  Since  Apostolic  faith  was  in  the  beginning  reliance 
on  man's  word  as  being  God's  word,  since  what  faith  was  then  such  it  is 
now,  since  faith  is  necessary  for  salvation,  let  them  attempt  to  exercise  it 
toward  another,  if  they  will  not  accept  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb.  Let 
them,  if  they  can,  put  faith  in  some  of  those  religions  which  have  lasted 
a  whole  two  or  three  centuries  in  a  corner  of  the  earth.  Let  them  stake 
their  eternal  prospects  on  kings  and  nobles  and  parliaments  and  soldiery, 
let  them  take  some  mere  fiction  of  the  law,  or  abortion  of  the  schools,  or 
idol  of  a  populace,  or  upstart  of  a  crisis,  or  oracle  of  lecture-rooms,  as 
the  prophet  of  God.  Alas  !  they  are  hardly  bestead  if  they  must  possess 
a  virtue,  which  they  have  no  means  of  exercising, — if  they  must  make  an 
act  of  faith,  they  know  not  on  whom,  and  know  not  why ! 

What  thanks  ought  we  to  render  to  Almighty  God,  my  dear  brethren, 
that  He  has  made  us  what  we  are !  It  is  a  matter  of  grace.  There  are, 
to  be  sure,  many  cogent  arguments  to  lead  one  to  join  the  Catholic 
Church,  but  they  do  not  force  the  will.  We  may  know  them,  and  not  be 
moved  to  act  upon  them.  We  may  be  convinced  without  being  per- 
suaded. The  two  things  are  quite  distinct  from  each  other,  seeing  you 
ought  to  believe,  and  believing ;  reason,  if  left  to  itself,  will  bring  you  to 
the  conclusion  that  you  have  sufficient  grounds  for  believing,  but  belief 
is  the  gift  of  grace.  You  are  then  what  you  are,  not  from  any  excel- 
lence or  merit  of  your  own,  but  by  the  grace  of  God  who  has  chosen  you 
to  believe.  You  might  have  been  as  the  barbarian  of  Africa,  or  the  free- 
thinker of  Europe,  with  grace  sufficient  to  condemn  you,  because  it  had 
not  furthered  your  salvation.  You  might  have  had  strong  inspirations  of 
grace  and  have  resisted  them,  and  then  additional  grace  might  not  have 


168  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

been  given  to  overcome  your  resistance.  God  gives  not  the  same  meas- 
ure of  grace  to  all.  Has  He  not  visited  you  with  over-abundant  grace? 
And  was  it  not  necessary  for  your  hard  hearts  to  receive  more  than  other 
people?  Praise  and  bless  Him  continually  for  the  benefit;  do  not  for- 
get, as  time  goes  on,  that  it  is  of  grace ;  do  not  pride  yourselves  upon  it ; 
pray  ever  not  to  lose  it ;  and  do  your  best  to  make  others  partakers  of  it. 
And  you,  my  brethren,  also,  if  such  be  present,  who  are  not  as  yet 
Catholics,  but  who  by  your  coming  hither  seem  to  show  your  interest  in 
our  teaching,  and  your  wish  to  know  more  about  it,  you  too  remember, 
that  though  you  may  not  yet  have  faith  in  the  Church,  still  God  has 
brought  you  into  the  way  of  obtaining  it.  You  are  under  the  influence 
of  His  grace ;  He  has  brought  you  a  step  on  your  journey  ;  He  wishes  to 
bring  you  farther,  He  wishes  to  bestow  on  you  the  fulness  of  His  bless- 
ings, and  to  make  you  Catholics.  You  are  still  in  your  sins ;  probably 
you  are  laden  with  the  guilt  of  many  years,  the  accumulated  guilt  of 
many  a  deep  mortal  offense,  which  no  contrition  has  washed  away,  and  to 
which  no  Sacrament  has  been  applied.  You  at  present  are  troubled  with 
any  uneasy  conscience,  a  dissatisfied  reason,  an  unclean  heart,  and  a  di- 
vided will ;  you  need  to  be  converted.  Yet  now  the  first  suggestions  of 
grace  are  working  in  your  souls,  and  are  to  issue  in  pardon  for  the  past 
and  sanctity  for  the  future.  God  is  moving  you  to  acts  of  faith,  hope,  love, 
hatred  of  sin,  repentance ;  do  not  disappomt  Him,  do  not  thwart  Him ; 
concur  with  Him,  obey  Him.  You  look  up,  and  you  see,  as  it  were,  a 
great  mountain  to  be  scaled  ;  you  say,  "  How  can  I  possibly  find  a  path 
over  these  giant  obstacles,  which  I  find  in  the  way  of  my  becoming  a 
Catholic?  I  do  not  comprehend  this  doctrine,  and  I  am  pained  at  that ; 
a  third  seems  impossible ;  I  never  can  be  familiar  with  one  practice,  I  am 
afraid  of  another ;  it  is  one  maze  and  discomfort  to  me,  and  I  am  led  to 
sink  down  in  despair."  Say  not  so,  my  dear  brethren  ;  look  up  in  hope, 
trust  in  Him  who  calls  you  forward.  "  Who  art  thou,  O  great  mountain, 
Zorobabel  ?  but  a  plain."  He  will  lead  you  forward  step  by  step,  as  He  has 
led  forward  many  a  one  before  you.  He  will  make  the  crooked  straight 
and  the  rough  plain.  He  will  turn  the  streams,  and  dry  up  the  rivers,  which 
lie  in  your  path.  "  He  shall  strengthen  your  feet  like  harts'  feet,  and  set  you 
up  on  high  places.  He  shall  widen  your  steps  under  you,  and  your  tread 
shall  not  be  weakened."  "  There  is  no  God  like  the  God  of  the  righteous ; 
He  that  mounts  the  heaven  is  thy  Helper;  by  His  mighty  working  the 
clouds  disperse.  His  dwelling  is  above,  and  underneath  are  the  everlasting 
arms ;  He  shall  Ccist  out  the  enemy  from  before  thee,  and  shall  say.  Crum- 
ble away."  "  The  young  shall  faint,  and  youths  shall  fall ;  but  they  that 
hope  in  the  Lord  shall  be  new-fledged  in  strength,  they  shall  take  feathers 
like  eagles,  they  shall  run  and  not  labor,  they  shall  walk  and  not  faint." 


FAITH   AND   DOUBT. 

[HOSE  who  are  drawn  by  curiosity  or  a  better  motive  to  inquire 
into  the  Catholic  Religion,  sometimes  put  to  us  a  strange 
question, — whether,  if  they  took  up  the  profession  of  it,  they 
would  be  at  liberty,  when  they  felt  inclined,  to  reconsider  the 
question  of  its  divine  authority ;  meaning  by  "  reconsideration "  an  in- 
quiry springing  from  doubt  of  it,  and  possibly  ending  in  a  denial.  The 
same  question,  in  the  form  of  an  objection,  is  often  asked  by  those  who 
have  no  thoughts  at  all  of  becoming  Catholics,  and  who  enlarge  upon  it, 
as  something  terrible,  that  whoever  once  enters  the  pale  of  the  Churcli, 
on  him  the  door  of  egress  is  shut  forever;  that,  once  a  Catholic,  he 
never  can  doubt  again ;  that,  whatever  his  misgivings  may  be,  he  must 
stifle  them,  nay  must  start  from  them  as  the  suggestion  of  the  evil  spirit ; 
in  short,  that  he  must  give  up  altogether  the  search  after  truth,  and  do  a 
violence  to  his  mind,  which  is  nothing  short  of  immoral.  This  is  what  is 
said,  my  brethren,  by  certain  objectors,  and  their  own  view  is,  or  ought 
to  be,  if  they  are  consistent,  this, — that  it  is  a  fault  ever  to  make  up  our 
mind  once  for  all  on  any  religious  subject  whatever;  and  that,  however 
sacred  a  doctrine  may  be,  and  however  evident  to  us, — let  us  say,  for  in- 
stance, the  divinity  of  our  Lord,  or  the  existence  of  God, — ^we  ought 
always  to  reserve  to  ourselves  the  liberty  of  doubting  about  it.  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  so  extravagant  a  position,  as  this  is,  confutes  itself ; 
however,  I  will  consider  the  contrary  (that  is,  the  Catholic)  view  of  the 
subject,  on  its  own  merits,  though  without  admitting  the  language  in 
which  it  was  just  now  stated  by  its  opponents. 

It  is,  then,  perfectly  true,  that  the  Church  does  not  allow  her  children 
to  entertain  any  doubt  of  her  teaching ;  and  that,  first  of  all,  simply  for 
this  reason,  because  they  are  Catholics  only  while  they  have  faith,  and 
faith  is  incompatible  with  doubt.  No  one  can  be  a  Catholic  without 
a  simple  faith,  that  what  the  Church  declares  in  God's  name,  is 
God's  word,  and  therefore  true.  A  man  must  simply  believe  that  the 
Church  is  the  oracle  of  God  :  he  must  be  as  certain  of  her  mission,  as  he 
is  of  the  mission  of  the  Apostles.  Now,  would  any  one  ever  call  him 
certain  that  the  Apostles  came  from  God,  if,  after  professing  his  certainty, 
he  added,  that,  perhaps  he  might  have  reason  to  doubt  one  day  about 
their  mission  ?     Such  an  anticipation  would   be  a  real,  though  latent, 

(169) 


170  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

doubt,  betraying  that  he  was  not  certain  of  it  at  present.  A  person  who 
says,  "  I  believe  just  at  this  moment,  but  perhaps  I  am  excited  without 
knowing  it,  and  I  cannot  answer  for  myself,  that  I  shall  believe  to-mor- 
row," does  not  believe  now.  A  man  who  says,  "  Perhaps  I  am  in  a  kind 
of  delusion,  which  will  one  day  pass  away  from  me,  and  leave  me  as  I  was 
before  ";  or,  "  I  believe  as  far  as  I  can  tell,  but  there  may  be  arguments 
in  the  background  which  will  change  my  view  ";  such  a  man  has  not  faith 
at  all.  When,  then,  Protestants  quarrel  with  us  for  saying  that  those 
who  join  us  must  give  up  all  ideas  of  ever  doubting  the  Church  in  time 
to  come,  they  do  nothing  else  but  quarrel  with  us  for  insisting  on  the 
necessity  of  faith  in  her.  Let  them  speak  plainly ;  our  offense  is  that  of 
demanding  faith  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church ;  it  is  this,  and  nothing 
else.  I  must  insist  upon  this :  faith  implies  a  confidence  in  a  man's  mind, 
that  the  thing  believed  is  really  true ;  but,  if  it  is  once  true,  it  never  can 
be  false.  If  it  is  true  that  God  became  man,  what  is  the  meaning  of  my 
anticipating  a  time  when  perhaps  I  shall  not  believe  that  God  became 
man?  this  is  nothing  short  of  anticipating  a  time  when  I  shall  disbelieve 
a  truth.  And  if  I  bargain  to  be  allowed  in  time  to  come  not  to  believe, 
or  to  doubt,  that  God  became  man,  I  am  but  asking  to  be  allowed  to 
doubt  or  disbelieve  what  I  hold  to  be  an  eternal  truth.  I  do  not  see  the 
privilege  of  such  a  permission  at  all,  or  the  meaning  of  wishing  to  secure 
it : — if  at  present  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  about  it,  then  I  am  but  ask- 
ing leave  to  fall  into  error ;  if  at  present  I  have  doubts  about  it,  then  I 
do  not  believe  it  at  present,  that  is,  I  have  not  faith.  But  I  cannot  both 
really  believe  it  now,  and  yet  look  forward  to  a  time  when  perhaps  I  shall 
not  believe  it ;  to  make  provision  for  future  doubt,  is  to  doubt  at  present. 
It  proves  I  am  not  in  a  fit  state  to  become  a  Catholic  now.  I  may  love 
by  halves,  I  may  obey  by  halves ;  I  cannot  believe  by  halves :  either  I 
have  faith,  or  I  have  it  not. 

And  so  again,  when  a  man  has  become  a  Catholic,  were  he  to  set  about 
following  a  doubt  which  has  occurred  to  him,  he  has  already  disbelieved* 
/  have  not  to  warn  him  against  losing  his  faith;  he  is  not  merely  in 
danger  of  losing  it,  he  has  lost  it ;  from  the  nature  of  the  case  he  has 
already  lost  it ;  he  fell  from  grace  at  the  moment  when  he  deliberately 
entertained  and  pursued  his  doubt.  No  one  can  determine  to  doubt 
what  he  is  already  sure  of;  but  if  he  is  not  sure  that  the  Church  is  from 
God,  he  does  not  believe  it.  It  is  not  I  who  forbid  him  to  doubt ;  he  has 
taken  the  matter  into  his  own  hands  when  he  determined  on  asking  for 
leave  ;  he  has  begun,  not  ended,  in  unbelief ;  his  very  wish,  his  purpose, 
is  his  sin.  1  do  not  make  it  so,  it  is  such  from  the  very  state  of  the  case. 
You  sometimes  hear,  for  example,  of  Catholics  falling  away,  who  will  tell 
you  it  arose  from  reading  the  Scriptures,  which  opened  their  eyes  to  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  171 

"  unscripturalness,"  so  they  speak,  of  the  Church  of  the  Living  God. 
No  ;  Scripture  did  not  make  them  disbelieve  (impossible  !) ;  they  disbe- 
lieved when  they  opened  the  Bible ;  they  opened  it  in  an  unbelieving^ 
spirit,  and  for  an  unbelieving  purpose  ;  they  would  not  have  opened  it,, 
had  they  not  anticipated — I  might  say,  hoped — that  they  should  find 
things  there  inconsistent  with  Catholic  teaching.  They  begin  in  self-will 
and  disobedience,  and  they  end  in  apostasy.  This,  then,  is  the  direct  and 
obvious  reason  why  the  Church  cannot  allow  her  children  the  liberty  of 
doubting  the  truth  of  her  word.  He  who  really  believes  in  it  now,  can- 
not imagine  the  future  discovery  of  reasons  to  shake  his  faith ;  if  he  im- 
agines it,  he  has  not  faith  ;  and  that  so  many  Protestants  think  it  a  sort 
of  tyranny  in  the  Church  to  forbid  any  children  of  hers  to  doubt  about 
her  teaching,  only  shows  they  do  not  know  what  faith  is — which  is  the 
case ;  it  is  a  strange  idea  to  them.  Let  a  man  cease  to  inquire,  or  cease 
to  call  himself  her  child. 

This  is  my  first  remark,  and  now  I  go  on  to  a  second.  You  may 
easily  conceive,  my  brethren,  that  they  who  are  entering  the  Church,  or 
at  least  those  who  have  entered  it,  have  more  than  faith ;  that  they  have 
some  portion  of  divine  love  also.  They  have  heard  in  the  Church  of  the 
charity  of  Him  who  died  for  them,  and  who  has  given  them  His  Sacra- 
ments as  the  means  of  conveying  the  merits  of  His  death  to  their  souls, 
and  they  have  felt  more  or  less  in  those  poor  souls  of  theirs  the  begin- 
nings of  a  responsive  charity  drawing  them  to  Him.  Now,  does  it  stand 
with  a  loving  trust,  better  than  with  faith,  for  a  man  to  anticipate  the 
possibility  of  doubting  or  denying  the  great  mercies  in  which  he  is- 
rejoicing?  Take  an  instance;  what  would  you  think  of  a  friend  whom 
you  loved,  who  could  bargain  that,  in  spite  of  his  present  trust  in  you,  he 
might  be  allowed  some  day  to  doubt  you  ?  who,  when  a  thought  came 
into  his  mind,  that  you  were  playing  a  game  with  him,  or  that  you  were 
a  knave,  or  a  profligate,  did  not  drive  it  from  him  with  indignation,  or 
laugh  it  away  for  its  absurdity,  but  considered  that  he  had  an  evident 
right  to  indulge  it,  nay,  should  be  wanting  in  duty  to  himself,  unless  he 
did  ?  Would  you  think  that  your  friend  trifled  with  truth,  that  he  was 
unjust  to  his  reason,  that  he  was  wanting  in  manliness,  that  he  was  hurt- 
ing his  mind,  if  he  shrank  from  the  thought  ?  or  would  you  not  call  him 
cruel  and  miserable  if  he  did  not  ?  For  me,  my  brethren,  if  he  took  the 
latter  course,  may  I  never  be  intimate  with  so  unpleasant  a  person  ;  sus- 
picious, jealous  minds,  minds  that  keep  at  a  distance  from  me,  that  insist 
on  their  rights,  fall  back  on  their  own  centre,  are  ever  fancying  offenses, 
and  are  cold,  censorious,  wayward,  and  uncertain,  these  are  often  to  be 
borne  as  a  cross ;  but  give  me  for  my  friend  one  who  will  unite  heart  and 
hand  with  me,  who  will  throw  himself  into  my  cause  and  interest,  who 


172  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

will  take  my  part  when  I  am  attacked,  who  will  be  sure  beforehand  that  I 
am  in  the  right,  and,  if  he  is  critical,  as  he  may  have  cause  to  be  toward  a 
being  of  sin  and  imperfection,  will  be  so  from  very  love  and  loyalty,  from 
an  anxiety  that  I  should  always  show  to  advantage,  and  a  wish  that  others 
should  love  me  as  heartily  as  he  does.  I  should  not  say  a  friend  trusted 
me,  who  listened  to  every  idle  story  against  me ;  and  I  should  like  his 
absence  better  than  his  company,  if  he  gravely  told  me  that  it  was  a  duty 
he  owed  to  himself  to  encourage  his  misgivings  of  my  honor. 

Well,  pass  on  to  a  higher  subject ; — could  a  man  be  said  to  trust  in 
God,  and  to  love  God,  who  was  familiar  with  doubts  whether  there  was  a 
God  at  all,  or  who  bargained  that,  just  as  often  as  he  pleased,  he  might 
be  at  liberty  to  doubt  whether  God  was  good,  or  just  or  almighty ;  and 
who  maintained  that,  unless  he  did  this,  he  was  but  a  poor  slave,  that  his 
mind  was  in  bondage,  and  could  render  no  free  acceptable  service  to  his 
Maker ;  that  the  very  worship  which  God  approved  was  one  attended 
with  a  caveat,  on  the  worshipper's  part,  that  he  did  not  promise  to  render 
it  to-morrow,  that  he  would  not  answer  for  himself  that  some  argument 
might  not  come  to  light,  which  he  had  never  heard  before,  which  would 
make  it  a  grave  moral  duty  in  him  to  suspend  his  judgment  and  his  de- 
votion ?  Why,  I  should  say,  my  brethren,  that  that  man  was  worshipping 
his  own  mind,  his  own  dear  self  and  not  God ;  that  his  idea  of  God  was  a 
mere  accidental  form  which  his  thoughts  took  at  this  time  or  that, — for  a 
long  period  or  a  short  one,  as  the  case  might  be, — not  an  image  of  the 
great  Eternal  Object,  but  a  passing  sentiment  or  imagination  which 
meant  nothing  at  all.  I  should  say,  and  most  men  would  agree  with  me, 
did  they  choose  to  give  attention  to  the  matter,  that  the  person  in  question 
was  a  very  self-conceited,  self-wise  man,  and  had  neither  love,  nor  faith,  nor 
fear,  nor  anything  supernatural  about  him  ;  that  his  pride  must  be  broken, 
and  his  heart  new-made,  before  he  was  capable  of  any  religious  act  at  all. 
The  argument  is  the  same,  in  its  degree,  when  applied  to  the  Church ; 
she  speaks  to  us  as  a  messenger  from  God, — how  can  a  man  who  feels 
this,  who  comes  to  her,  who  falls  at  her  feet  as  such,  make  a  reserve,  that 
he  may  be  allowed  to  doubt  her  at  some  future  day?  Let  the  world  cry 
out,  if  it  will,  that  his  reason  is  in  fetters ;  let  it  pronounce  that  he  is  a 
bigot,  unless  he  reserves  his  right  of  doubting ;  but  he  knows  full  well 
himself  that  he  would  be  an  ingrate  and  a  fool,  if  he  did.  Fetters,  indeed ! 
yes,  "  the  cords  of  Adam,"  the  fetters  of  love,  these  are  what  bind  him  to 
the  Holy  Church ;  he  is,  with  the  Apostle,  the  slave  of  Christ,  the  Church's 
Lord ;  united  (never  to  part,  as  he  trusts,  while  life  lasts,)  to  her  Sacra- 
ments, to  her  Sacrifices,  to  her  Saints,  to  the  Blessed  Mary  her  advocate, 
to  Jesus,  to  God. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  world,  knowing  nothing  of  the  blessings  of 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  1Y3 

the  Catholic  faith,  and  prophesying  nothing  but  ill  concerning  it,  fancies 
that  a  convert,  after  the  first  fervor  is  over,  feels  nothing  but  disappoint- 
ment, weariness,  and  offense  in  his  new  religion,  and  is  secretly  desirous 
of  retracing  his  steps.  This  is  at  the  root  of  the  alarm  and  irritation 
which  it  manifests  at  hearing  that  doubts  are  incompatible  with  a  Cath- 
olic's profession,  because  it  is  sure  that  doubts  will  come  upon  him,  and 
then  how  pitiable  will  be  his  state !  That  there  can  be  peace,  and  joy, 
and  knowledge,  and  freedom,  and  spiritual  strength  in  the  Church,  is  a 
thought  far  beyond  the  world's  imagination  ;  for  it  regards  her  simply  as 
a  frightful  conspiracy  against  the  happiness  of  man,  seducing  her  victims 
by  specious  professions,  and,  when  they  are  once  hers,  caring  nothing  for 
the  misery  which  breaks  upon  them,  so  that  by  any  means  she  may  detain 
them  in  bondage.  Accordingly,  it  conceives  we  are  in  perpetual  warfare 
with  our  own  reason,  fierce  objections  ever  rising  within  us,  and  we  forc- 
ibly repressing  them.  It  believes  that,  after  the  likeness  of  a  vessel 
which  has  met  with  some  accident  at  sea,  we  are  ever  baling  out  the 
water  which  rushes  in  upon  us,  and  have  hard  work  to  keep  afloat ;  we 
just  manage  to  linger  on,  either  by  an  unnatural  strain  on  our  minds,  or 
by  turning  them  away  from  the  subject  of  religion.  The  world  disbelieves 
our  doctrines  itself,  and  cannot  understand  our  own  believing  them.  It 
considers  them  so  strange,  that  it  is  quite  sure,  though  we  will  not  confess 
it,  that  we  are  haunted  day  and  night  with  doubts,  and  tormented  with 
the  apprehension  of  yielding  to  them.  I  really  do  think  it  is  the  world's 
judgment,  that  one  principal  part  of  a  confessor's  work  is  the  putting 
down  such  misgivings  in  his  penitents.  It  fancies  that  the  reason  is  ever 
rebelling,  like  the  flesh ;  that  doubt,  like  concupiscence,  is  elicited  by 
every  sight  and  sound,  and  that  temptation  insinuates  itself  in  every  page 
of  letter-press,  and  through  the  very  voice  of  a  Protestant  polemic.  When 
it  sees  a.  Catholic  Priest,  it  looks  hard  at  him,  to  make  out  how  much 
there  is  of  folly,  in  his  composition,  and  how  much  of  hypocrisy. 

But,  my  dear  brethren,  if  these  are  your  thoughts,  you  are  simply  in 
error.  Trust  me,  rather  than  the  world,  when  I  tell  you,  that  it  is  no 
difficult  thing  for  a  Catholic  to  believe ;  and  that  unless  he  grievously 
mismanages  himself,  the  difficult  thing  is  for  him  to  doubt.  He  has  re- 
ceived a  gift  which  makes  faith  easy :  it  is  not  without  an  effort,  a  miser- 
able effort,  that  any  one  who  has  received  that  gift,  unlearns  to  believe. 
He  does  violence  to  his  mind,  not  in  exercising,  but  in  withholding  his 
faith.  When  objections  occur  to  him,  which  they  may  easily  do  if  he 
lives  in  the  world,  they  are  as  odious  and  unwelcome  to  him  as  impure 
thoughts  are  to  the  virtuous.  He  does  certainly  shrink  from  them,  he 
flings  them  away  from  him,  but  why?  not  in  the  first  instance,  because 
they  are  dangerous,  but  because  they  are  cruel  and  base.     His  loving 


1Y4  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Lord  has  done  everything  for  him,  and  has  He  deserved  such  a  return  ? 
Popule  mens,  quid  feci  tibi  ?  "  O  my  people,  what  have  I  done  to  thee,  or 
in  what  have  I  afflicted  thee  ?  answer  thou  me.  I  brought  thee  out  of 
the  land  of  Egypt,  and  delivered  thee  out  of  the  house  of  slaves ;  and  I 
sent  before  thy  face  Moses,  and  Aaron,  and  Mary ;  I  fenced  thee  in,  and 
planted  thee  with  the  choicest  vines ;  and  what  is  there  that  I  ought  to 
do  more  to  my  vineyard  that  I  have  not  done  to  it  ?  "  He  has  poured  on 
us  His  grace.  He  has  been  with  us  in  our  perplexities,  He  has  led  us  on 
from  one  truth  to  another,  He  has  forgiven  us  our  sins,  He  has  satisfied 
our  reason.  He  has  made  faith  easy,  He  has  given  us  His  Saints,  He  shows 
tefore  us  day  by  day  His  own  Passion  ;  why  should  I  leave  Him?  What 
has  He  ever  done  to  me  but  good  ?  Why  must  I  re-examine  what  I  have 
examined  once  for  all  ?  Why  must  I  listen  to  every  idle  word  which  flits 
past  me  against  Him,  on  pain  of  being  called  a  bigot  and  a  slave,  when, 
if  I  did,  I  should  be  behaving  to  the  Most  High,  as  you  yourselves,  who 
so  call  me,  would  not  behave  toward  a  human  friend  or  benefactor?  If 
I  am  convinced  in  my  reason,  and  persuaded  in  my  heart,  why  may  I  not 
be  allowed  to  remain  unmolested  in  my  wprship  ? 

I  have  said  enough  on  the  subject ;  still  there  is  a  third  point  of  view 
in  which  it  may  be  useful  to  consider  it.  Personal  prudence  is  not  the 
first  or  second  ground  for  refusing  to  hear  objections  to  the  Church,  but 
a  motive  it  is,  and  that  from  the  peculiar  nature  of  divine  faith,  which 
cannot  be  treated  as  an  ordinary  conviction  or  belief.  Faith  is  the  gift 
of  God,  and  not  a  mere  act  of  our  own,  which  we  are  free  to  exert  when 
we  will.  It  is  quite  distinct  from  an  exercise  of  reason,  though  it  follows 
upon  it.  I  may  feel  the  force  of  the  argument  for  the  divine  origin  of 
the  Church  ;  I  may  see  that  I  ought  to  believe  ;  and  yet  I  may  be  unable 
to  believe.  This  is  no  imaginary  case  ;  there  is  many  a  man  who  has 
ground  enough  to  believe,  who  wishes  to  believe,  but  who  cannot  believe. 
It  is  always  indeed  his  own  fault,  for  God  gives  grace  to  all  who  ask  for 
"it,  and  use  it,  but  still  such  is  the  fact,  that  conviction  is  not  faith.  Take 
the  parallel  case  of  obedience ;  many  a  man  knows  he  ought  to  obey  God, 
and  does  not  and  cannot, — through  his  own  fault  indeed,  but  still  he  can- 
not ;  for  through  grace  alone  can  he  obey.  Now,  faith  is  not  a  mere 
conviction  in  reason,  it  is  a  firm  assent,  it  is  a  clear  certainty  greater  than 
any  other  certainty ;  and  this  is  wrought  in  the  mind  by  the  grace  of 
God,  and  by  it  alone.  As,  then,  men  may  be  convinced,  and  not  act  ac- 
cording to  their  conviction,  so  may  they  be  convinced,  and  not  believe 
according  to  their  conviction.  They  may  confess  that  the  argument  is 
against  them,  that  they  have  nothing  to  say  for  themselves,  and  that  to 
believe  is  to  be  happy  ;  and  yet,  after  all,  they  avow  they  cannot  believe, 
they  do  not  know  why,  but  they  cannot ;  they  acquiesce  in  unbelief,  and 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  175 

they  turn  away  from  God  and  His  Church.  Their  reason  is  convinced, 
and  their  doubts  are  moral  ones,  arising  in  their  root  from  a  fault  of  the 
will.  In  a  word,  the  arguments  for  religion  do  not  compel  any  one  to 
believe,  just  as  arguments  for  good  conduct  do  not  compel  any  one  to 
obey.  Obedience  is  the  consequence  of  willing  to  obey,  and  faith  is  the 
consequence  of  willing  to  believe ;  we  may  see  what  is  right,  whether  in 
matters  of  faith  or  obedience,  of  ourselves,  but  we  cannot  will  what  is 
right  without  the  grace  of  God.  Here  is  the  difference  between  other 
exercises  of  reason,  and  arguments  for  the  truth  of  religion.  It  requires 
no  act  of  faith  to  assent  to  the  truth  that  two  and  two  make  four ;  we 
cannot  help  assenting  to  it ;  and  hence  there  is  no  merit  in  assenting  to 
it ;  but  there  is  merit  in  believing  that  the  Church  is  from  God ;  for 
though  there  are  abundant  reasons  to  prove  it  to  us,  yet  we  can,  without 
an  absurdity,  quarrel  with  the  conclusion ;  we  may  complain  that  it  is  not 
clearer,  we  may  suspend  our  assent,  we  may  doubt  about  it,  if  w'e  will, 
and  grace  alone  can  turn  a  bad  will  into  a  good  one. 

And  now  you  see  why  a  Catholic  dare  not  in  prudence  attend  to  such 
objections  as  are  brought  against  his  faith  ;  he  has  no  fear  of  their  prov- 
ing that  the  Church  does  not  come  from  God,  but  he  is  afraid,  if  he 
listened  to  them  without  reason,  lest  God  should  punish  him  by  the  loss 
of  his  supernatural  faith.  This  is  one  cause  of  that  miserable  state  of 
mind,  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  in  which  men  would  fain  be 
Catholics,  and  are  not.  They  have  trifled  with  conviction,  they  have 
listened  to  arguments  against  what  they  knew  to  be  true,  and  a  deadness 
of  mind  has  fallen  on  them  ;  faith  has  failed  them,  and,  as  time  goes  on, 
they  betray  in  their  words  and  their  actions,  the  Divine  judgment,  with 
which  they  are  visited.  They  become  careless  and  unconcerned,  or  rest- 
less and  unhappy,  or  impatient  of  contradiction;  ever  asking  advice  and 
quarrelling  with  it  when  given  ;  not  attempting  to  answer  the  arguments 
urged  against  them,  but  simply  not  believing.  This  is  the  whole  of  their 
case,  they  do  not  believe.  And  then  it  is  quite  an  accident  what  becomes 
of  them ;  perhaps  they  continue  on  in  this  perplexed  and  comfortless 
state,  lingering  about  the  Church,  yet  not  of  her ;  not  knowing  what  they 
believe  and  what  they  do  not,  like  blind  men,  or  men  deranged,  who  are 
deprived  of  the  eye,  whether  of  body  or  mind,  and  cannot  guide  them- 
selves in  consequence ;  ever  exciting  hopes  of  a  return,  and  ever  disap- 
pointing them ; — or,  if  they  are  men  of  more  vigorous  minds,  they  launch 
forward  in  a  course  of  infidelity,  not  really  believing  less,  as  they  proceed, 
for  from  the  first  they  believed  nothing,  but  taking  up,  as  time  goes  on, 
more  and  more  consistent  forms  of  error,  till  sometimes,  if  a  free  field  is 
given  them,  they  even  develop  into  atheism.  Such  is  the  end  of  those 
who,  under  the  pretence  of  inquiring  after  truth,  trifle  with  conviction. 


176  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Here  then  are  some  of  the  reasons  why  the  Catholic  Church  cannot 
consistently  allow  her  children  to  doubt  the  divinity  and  the  truth  of  her 
words.  Mere  investigation  indeed  into  the  grounds  of  our  faith  is  not  to 
doubt ;  nor  is  it  doubting  to  consider  the  arguments  urged  against  it, 
when  there  is  good  reason  for  doing  so ;  but  I  am  speaking  of  a  real 
doubt,  or  a  wanton  entertainment  of  objections.  Such  a  procedure  the 
Church  denounces,  and  not  only  for  the  reasons  which  I  have  assigned, 
but  because  it  would  be  a  plain  abandonment  of  her  office  and  character 
to  act  otherwise.  How  can  she,  who  has  the  prerogative  of  infallibility, 
allow  her  children  to  doubt  of  her  gift  ?  It  would  be  a  simple  inconsist- 
ency in  her,  who  is  the  sure  oracle  of  truth  and  messenger  of  heaven,  to 
look  with  indifference  on  rebels  to  her  authority.  She  simply  does  what 
the  Apostles  did  before  her,  whom  she  has  succeeded.  "  He  that 
despiseth,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  despiseth  not  man,  but  God,  who  hath  also 
given  in  us  His  Holy  Spirit."  And  St.  John,  "  We  are  of  God  ;  he  that 
knoweth  God,  heareth  us ;  he  that  is  not  of  God,  heareth  us  not ;  by  this 
we  know  the  spirit  of  truth  and  the  spirit  of  error."  Take,  again,  an 
instance  from  the  Old  Testament : — When  Elias  was  taken  up  into 
heaven,  Eliseus  was  the  only  witness  of  the  miracle ;  on  his  coming  back 
then  to  the  sons  of  the  Prophets,  they  doubted  what  had  become  of  his 
master,  and  wished  to  search  for  him ;  and,  though  they  acknowledged 
Eliseus  as  his  successor,  they  in  this  instance  refused  to  take  his  word  on 
the  subject.  Eliseus  had  struck  the  waters  of  Jordan,  they  had  divided, 
and  he  had  passed  over;  here,  surely,  was  ground  enough  for  faith,  and 
accordingly  "  the  sons  of  the  Prophets  at  Jericho,  who  were  over  against 
him,  seeing  it,  said.  The  spirit  of  Elias  hath  rested  upon  Eliseus ;  and 
they  came  to  meet  him,  and  worshipped  him,  falling  to  the  ground." 
What  could  they  require  more?  they  confessed  that  Eliseus  had  the 
spirit  of  his  great  master,  and,  in  confessing  it,  they  implied  that  that 
master  was  taken  away ;  yet,  they  proceed,  from  infirmity  of  mind,  to 
make  a  request  indicative  of  doubt :  "  Behold,  there  are  with  thy  servants 
fifty  strong  men,  that  can  go  and  search  for  thy  master,  lest  perhaps  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  hath  taken  him  up,  and  cast  him  upon  some  mountain 
or  into  some  valley."  Now  here  was  a  request  to  follow  up  a  doubt  into 
an  inquiry ;  did  Eliseus  allow  it  ?  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  inquiry 
would  but  end,  as  it  really  did  end,  in  confirmation  of  the  truth,  but  it 
was  indulging  a  wrong  spirit  to  engage  in  it,  and  he  would  not  allow  it. 
These  religious  men  were,  as  he  would  feel,  strangely  inconsistent :  they 
were  doubting  his  word  whom  they  had  just  now  worshipped  as  a 
Prophet,  and,  not  only  so,  but  they  were  doubting  his  supreme  authority, 
for  they  implied  that  Elias  was  still  among  them.  Accordingly  he  for- 
bade their  request ;  "  He  said,  Send  not."     This  is  what  the  world  would 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  177 

call  stifling  an  inquiry;  it  was,  forsooth,  tyrannical  and  oppressive  to 
oblige  them  to  take  on  his  word  what  they  might  ascertain  for  them- 
selves :  yet  he  could  not  do  otherwise  without  being  unfaithful  to  his 
divine  mission,  and  sanctioning  them  in  a  fault.  It  is  true  when  "  they 
pressed  him,  he  consented,  and  said.  Send  ";  but  we  must  not  suppose 
this  to  be  more  than  a  condescension  to  their  weakness,  or  a  concession  in 
displeasure,  like  that  which  Almighty  God  gave  to  Balaam,  who  pressed 
his  request  in  a  similar  way.  When  Balaam  asked  to  go  with  the  ancients 
of  Moab,  God  said,  "  Thou  shalt  not  go  with  them  ";  when  Balaam  asked 
Him  "  once  more,"  "  God  said  to  him.  Arise  and  go  with  them  ";  then  it 
is  added,  "  Balaam  went  with  them,  and  God  was  angry."  Here,  in  like 
manner,  the  prophet  said.  Send ;  "  and  they  sent  fifty  men,  and  they 
sought  three  days,  but  found  him  not,"  yet  though  the  inquiry  did  but 
prove  that  Elias  was  removed,  Eliseus  showed  no  satisfaction  at  it,  even 
when  it  had  confirmed  his  authority :  but  "  he  said  to  them.  Said  I  not 
to  you,  Send  not  ?  "  It  is  thus  that  the  Church  ever  forbids  inquiry  in 
those  who  already  acknowledge  her  authority  ;  but  if  they  will  inquire, 
she  cannot  hinder  it ;  but  they  are  not  justified  in  doing  so. 

And  now  I  think  you  see,  my  brethren,  why  inquiry  precedes  faith, 
and  does  not  follow  it.  You  inquired  before  you  joined  the  Church  ; 
you  were  satisfied,  and  God  rewarded  you  with  the  grace  of  faith ;  were 
you  now  determined  to  inquire  further,  you  would  lead  us  to  think  you 
had  lost  it  again,  for  inquiry  and  faith  are  in  their  very  nature  incompatible, 
I  will  add,  what  is  very  evident,  that  no  other  religious  body  has  a  right 
to  demand  such  an  exercise  of  faith  in  it,  and  a  right  to  forbid  you  further 
inquiry,  but  the  Catholic  Church  ;  and  for  this  simple  reason,  that  no 
other  body  even  claims  to  be  infallible,  let  alone  the  proof  of  such  a 
claim.  Here  is  the  defect  at  first  starting,  which  disqualifies  them,  one  and 
all,  from  ever  competing  with  the  Church  of  God.  The  sects  about  us, 
so  far  from  demanding  your  faith,  actually  call  on  you  to  inquire  and  to 
doubt  freely  about  their  own  merits  ;  they  protest  that  they  are  but  vol- 
untary associations,  and  would  be  sorry  to  be  taken  for  anything  else ; 
they  beg  and  pray  you  not  to  mistake  their  preachers  for  anything  more 
than  mere  sinful  men,  and  they  invite  you  to  take  the  Bible  with  you  to 
their  sermons,  and  to  judge  for  yourselves  whether  their  doctrine  is  in 
accordance  with  it.  Then,  as  to  the  Established  Religion,  grant  that 
there  are  those  in  it  who  forbid  inquiry  into  its  claims  ;  yet  still,  dare 
they  maintain  that  it  is  infallible  ?  If  they  do  not  (and  no  one  does), 
how  can  they  forbid  inquiry  about  it,  or  claim  for  it  the  absolute  faith  of 
any  of  its  members?  Faith  under  these  circumstances  is  not  really  faith,  but 
obstinacy.  Nor  do  they  commonly  venture  to  demand  it ;  they  will  say, 
negatively,  "  Do   not  inquire  ";   but  they  cannot  say  positively,  "  Have 


178  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

faith  ";  for  in  whom  are  their  members  to  have  faith  ?  of  whom  can  they  say, 
whether  individual  or  collection  of  men,  "  He  or  they  are  gifted  with  in- 
fallibility, and  cannot  mislead  us  "  ?  Therefore,  when  pressed  to  explain 
themselves,  they  ground  their  duty  of  continuance  in  their  communion, 
not  on  faith  in  it,  but  on  attachment  to  it,  which  is  a  very  different 
thing;  utterly  different,  for  there  are  very  many  reasons  why  they  should 
feel  a  very  great  liking  for  the  religion  in  which  they  have  been  brought 
up.  Its  portions  of  Catholic  teaching,  its  **  decency  and  order,"  the  pure 
and  beautiful  English  of  its  prayers,  its  literature,  the  piety  found 
among  its  members,  the  influence  of  superiors  and  friends,  its  historical 
associations,  its  domestic  character,  the  charm  of  a  country  life,  the  re- 
membrance of  past  years, — there  is  all  this  and  much  more  to  attach  the 
mind  to  the  national  worship.  But  attachment  is  not  trust,  nor  is  to 
obey  the  same  as  to  look  up  to,  and  to  rely  upon ;  nor  do  I  think  that 
any  thoughtful  or  educated  man  can  simply  believe  or  confide  in  the 
word  oi  the  Established  Church.  I  never  met  any  such  person  who  did, 
or  said  he  did,  and  I  do  not  think  that  such  a  person  is  possible.  Its 
defenders  would  believe  if  they  could ;  but  their  highest  confidence  is 
qualified  by  a  misgiving.  They  obey,  they  are  silent  before  the  voice  of 
their  superiors,  but  they  do  not  profess  to  believe.  Nothing  is  clearer 
than  this,  that  if  faith  in  God's  word  is  required  of  us  for  salvation,  the 
Catholic  Church  is  the  only  medium  by  which  we  can  exercise  it. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  who  are  not  Catholics,  perhaps  you  will  tell 
me,  that,  if  all  inquiry  is  to  cease  when  you  become  Catholics,  you  ought 
to  be  very  sure  that  the  Church  is  from  God  before  you  join  it.  You 
speak  truly ;  no  one  should  enter  the  Church  without  a  firm  purpose  of 
taking  her  word  in  all  matters  of  doctrine  and  morals,  and  that,  on  the 
ground  of  her  coming  directly  from  the  God  of  Truth.  You  must  look 
the  matter  in  the  face,  and  count  the  cost.  If  you  do  not  come  in  this 
spirit,  you  may  as  well  not  come  at  all ;  high  and  low,  learned  and  igno- 
rant, must  come  to  learn.  If  you  are  right  as  far  as  this,  you  cannot  go 
very  wrong ;  you  have  the  foundation ;  but,  if  you  come  in  any  other 
temper,  you  had  better  wait  till  you  have  got  rid  of  it.  You  must  come, 
I  say,  to  the  Church  to  learn ;  you  must  come,  not  to  bring  your  own 
notions  to  her,  but  with  the  intention  of  ever  being  a  learner ;  you  must 
come  with  the  intention  of  taking  her  for  your  portion  and  of  never 
leaving  her.  Do  not  come  as  an  experiment ;  do  not  come  as  you  would 
take  sittings  in  a  chapel,  or  tickets  for  a  lecture-room ;  come  to  her  as 
to  your  home,  to  the  school  of  your  souls,  to  the  Mother  of  Saints,  and 
to  the  vestibule  of  heaven.  On  the  other  hand  do  not  distress  yourselves 
with  thoughts  whether,  when  you  have  joined  her,  your  faith  will  last ; 
this  is  a  suggestion  of  your  enemy  to  hold  you  back.     He  who  has  begun 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  179 

a  good  work  in  you,  will  perfect  it ;  He  who  has  chosen  you,  will  be  faith- 
ful to  you  ;  put  your  cause  into  His  hand,  wait  upon  Him,  and  you  will 
surely  persevere.  What  good  work  will  you  ever  begin,  if  you  bargain 
first  to  see  the  end  of  it  ?  If  you  wish  to  do  all  at  once,  you  will  do 
nothing ;  he  has  done  half  the  work,  who  has  begun  it  well ;  you  will  not 
gain  your  Lord's  praise  at  the  final  reckoning  by  hiding  His  talent.  No; 
when  He  brings  you  from  error  to  truth,  He  will  have  done  the  more  dif- 
ficult work  (if  aught  is  diflficult  to  Him),  and  surely  He  will  preserve  you 
from  returning  from  truth  to  error.  Take  the  experience  of  those  who 
have  gone  before  you  in  the  same  course ;  they  had  many  fears  that  their 
faith  would  fail  them,  before  taking  the  great  step,  but  those  fears  vanished 
on  their  taking  it ;  they  had  fears,  before  they  received  the  grace  of  faith, 
lest,  after  receiving  it,  they  should  lose  it  again,  but  no  fears  (except 
on  the  ground  of  their  general  frailness)  after  it  was  actually  given  them. 
Be  convinced  in  your  reason  that  the  Catholic  Church  is  a  teacher 
sent  to  you  from  God,  and  it  is  enough.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  join 
her,  till  you  are.  If  you  are  half  convinced,  pray  for  a  full  conviction, 
and  wait  till  you  have  it.  It  is  better,  indeed,  to  come  quickly,  but  bet- 
ter slowly  than  carelessly ;  and  sometimes,  as  the  proverb  goes,  the  more 
haste,  the  worse  speed.  Only  make  yourselves  sure  that  the  delay  is  not 
from  any  fault  of  yours,  which  you  can  remedy.  God  deals  with  us  very 
differently ;  conviction  comes  slowly  to  some  men,  quickly  to  others ;  in 
some  it  is  the  result  of  much  thought  and  many  reasonings,  in  others  of 
a  sudden  illumination.  One  man  is  convinced  at  once,  as  in  the  instance 
described  by  St.  Paul :  "  If  all  prophesy,"  he  says,  speaking  of  exposi- 
tion of  doctrine,  "  and  there  come  in  one  that  believeth  not,  or  one  un- 
learned, he  is  convinced  of  all,  he  is  judged  of  all.  The  secrets  of  his 
heart  are  made  manifest ;  and  so,  falling  down  on  his  face,  he  will  worship 
God,  and  say  that  God  is  among  you  of  a  truth."  The  case  is  the  same 
now ;  some  men  are  converted  merely  by  entering  a  Catholic  church ; 
others  are  converted  by  reading  one  book  ;  others  by  one  doctrine.  They 
feel  the  weight  of  their  sins,  and  they  see  that  that  religion  must  come 
from  God,  which  alone  has  the  means  of  forgiving  them.  Or  they  are 
touched  and  overcome  by  the  evident  sanctity,  beauty,  and  (as  I  may  say) 
fragrance  of  the  Catholic  Religion.  Or  they  long  for  a  guide  amid  the 
strife  of  tongues ;  and  the  very  doctrine  of  the  Church  about  faith, 
which  is  so  hard  to  many,  is  conviction  to  them.  Others,  again,  hear 
many  objections  to  the  Church,  and  follow  out  the  whole  subject  far  and 
wide;  conviction  can  scarcely  come  to  them  except  as  at  the  end  of  along 
inquiry.  As  in  a  court  of  justice,  one  man's  innocence  may  be  proved 
at  once,  another's  is  the  result  of  a  careful  investigation  ;  one  has  nothing" 
in  his  conduct  or  character  to  explain,  against  another  there  are  many 


180  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

unfavorable  presumptions  at  first  sight ;  so  Holy  Church  presents  her- 
self very  differently  to  different  minds  who  are  contemplating  her  from 
without.  God  deals  with  them  differently ;  but,  if  they  are  faithful  to 
their  light,  at  last,  in  their  own  time,  though  it  may  be  a  different  time  to 
each,  He  brings  them  to  that  one  and  the  same  state  of  mind,  very  definite 
and  not  to  be  mistaken,  which  we  call  conviction.  They  will  have  no 
doubt,  whatever  difficulties  may  still  attach  to  the  subject,  that  the  Church 
is  from  God ;  they  may  not  be  able  to  answer  this  objection  or  that,  but 
they  will  be  certain  in  spite  of  it. 

This  is  a  point  which  should  ever  be  kept  in  view :  conviction  is  a 
state  of  mind,  and  it  is  something  beyond  and  distinct  from  the  mere  argu- 
ments of  which  it  is  the  result ;  it  does  not  vary  with  their  strength  or 
their  number.  Arguments  lead  to  a  conclusion,  and  when  the  arguments 
are  stronger,  the  conclusion  is  clearer ;  but  conviction  may  be  felt  as 
strongly  in  consequence  of  a  clear  conclusion,  as  of  one  which  is  clearer. 
A  man  may  be  so  sure  upon  six  reasons,  that  he  does  not  need  a  seventh,, 
nor  would  feel  surer  if  he  had  it.  And  so  as  regards  the  Catholic  Church : 
men  are  convinced  in  very  various  ways, — what  convinces  one,  does  not 
convince  another ;  but  this  is  an  accident ;  the  time  comes  anyhow,^ 
sooner  or  later,  when  a  man  ought  to  be  convinced,  and  is  convinced, 
and  then  he  is  bound  not  to  wait  for  any  more  arguments,  though  more 
arguments  be  producible.  He  will  find  himself  in  a  condition  when  he 
may  even  refuse  to  hear  more  arguments  in  behalf  of  the  Church ;  he 
does  not  wish  to  read  or  think  more  on  the  subject ;  his  mind  is  quite 
made  up.  In  such  a  case  it  is  his  duty  to  join  the  Church  at  once ;  he 
must  not  delay;  let  him  be  cautious  in  council,  but  prompt  in  execution. 
This  it  is  that  makes  Catholics  so  anxious  about  him :  it  is  not  that  they 
wish  him  to  be  precipitate ;  but  knowing  the  temptations  which  the  evil 
one  ever  throws  in  our  way,  they  are  lovingly  anxious  for  his  soul,  lest 
he  has  come  to  the  point  of  conviction,  and  is  passing  it,  and  is  losing 
his  chance  of  conversion.  If  so,  it  may  never  return  ;  God  has  not  chosen 
every  one  to  salvation :  it  is  a  rare  gift  to  be  a  Catholic ;  it  may  be 
offered  to  us  once  in  our  lives  and  never  again ;  and,  if  we  have  not 
seized  on  the  "  accepted  time,"  nor  know  "  in  our  day  the  things  which 
are  for  our  peace,"  oh,  the  misery  for  us !  What  shall  we  be  able  to  say 
when  death  comes,  and  we  are  not  converted,  and  it  is  directly  and  imme- 
diately our  own  doing  that  we  are  not  ? 

"  Wisdom  preacheth  abroad,  she  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets . 
How  long,  ye  little  ones,  love  ye  childishness,  and  fools  covet  what  is 
hurtful  to  them,  and  the  unwise  hate  knowledge  ?  Turn  ye  at  my  re- 
proof ;  behold,  I  will  bring  forth  to  you  my  Spirit,  and  I  will  show  my 
words  unto  you.     Because  I  have  called  and  ye  refused,  I  stretched  out 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 


181 


my  hand,  and  there  was  none  who  regarded,  and  ye  despised  all  my 
counsel  and  neglected  my  chidings;  I  also  will  laugh  in  your  destruction, 
and  will  mock  when  that  shall  come  to  you  which  you  feared ;  when  a 
sudden  storm  shall  rush  on  you,  and  destruction  shall  thicken  as  a  tem- 
pest, when  tribulation  and  straitness  shall  come  upon  you.  Then  shall 
they  call  on  me,  and  I  will  not  hear ;  they  shall  rise  betimes,  but  they 
shall  not  find  me ;  for  that  they  hated  discipline,  and  took  not  on  them 
the  fear  of  the  Lord,  nor  acquiesced  in  my  counsel,  but  made  light  of 
my  reproof,  therefore  shall  they  eat  the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  be 
filled  with  their  own  devices." 

Oh,  the  misery  for  us,  as  many  of  us  as  shall  be  in  that  number !  Oh, 
the  awful  thought  for  all  eternity !  Oh,  the  remorseful  sting,  "  I  was 
called,  I  might  have  answered,  and  I  did  not ! "  And  oh,  the  blessedness, 
if  we  can  look  back  on  the  time  of  trial,  when  friends  implored  and 
enemies  scoffed,  and  say, — The  misery  for  me,  which  would  have  been, 
had  I  not  followed  on,  had  I  hung  back,  when  Christ  called !  Oh,  the 
utter  confusion  of  mind,  the  wreck  of  faith  and  opinion,  the  blackness 
and  void,  the  dreary  scepticism,  the  hopelessness,  which  would  have  been 
my  lot,'the  pledge  of  the  outer  darkness  to  come,  had  I  been  afraid  to 
follow  Him !  I  have  lost  friends,  I  have  lost  the  world,  but  I  have 
gained  Him,  who  gives  in  Himself  houses  and  brethren  and  sisters  and 
mothers  and  children  and  lands  a  hundredfold ;  I  have  lost  the  perish- 
able, and  gained  the  Infinite ;  I  have  lost  time,  and  I  have  gained  eter- 
nity ;  "  O  Lord,  my  God,  I  am  Thy  servant,  and  the  son  of  Thine  hand- 
maid ;  Thou  hast  broken  my  bonds.  I  will  sacrifice  to  Thee  the  sacrifice 
of  praise,  and  I  will  call  on  the  Name  of  the  Lord." 


MYSTERIES  OF  NATURE  AND  OF  GRACE. 

AM  going  to  assert,  what  some  persons,  my  brethren,  those 
especially  whom  it  most  concerns,  will  not  hesitate  to  call  a 
great  paradox  ;  but  which,  nevertheless,  I  consider  to  be  most 
true,  and  likely  to  approve  itself  to  you  more  and  more,  the 
oftener  you  turn  your  thoughts  to  the  subject,  and  likely  to  be  confirmed 
in  the  religious  history  of  this  country  as  time  proceeds.  It  is  this : — 
that  it  is  quite  as  difificult,  and  quite  as  easy,  to  believe  that  there  is  a 
God  in  heaven,  as  to  believe  that  the  Catholic  Church  is  His  oracle  and 
minister  on  earth.  I  do  not  mean  to  say,  that  it  is  really  difficult  to  be- 
lieve in  God  (God  Himself  forbid  !);  no;  but  that  belief  in  God  and  belief 
in  His  Church  stand  on  the  same  kind  of  foundation ;  that  the  proof  of 
the  one  truth  is  like  the  proof  of  the  other  truth,  and  that  the  objections 
which  may  be  made  to  the  one  are  like  the  objections  which  may  be  made 
to  the  other;  and  that,  as  right  reason  and  sound  judgment  overrule 
objections  to  the  being  of  a  God,  so  do  they  supersede  and  set  aside  ob- 
jections to  the  divine  mission  of  the  Church.  And  I  consider  that, 
when  once  a  man  has  a  real  hold  of  the  great  doctrine  that  there  is  a 
God,  in  its  true  meaning  and  bearings,  then  (provided  there  be  no  dis- 
turbing cause,  no  peculiarities  in  his  circumstances,  involuntary  ignorance, 
or  the  like),  he  will  be  led  on  without  an  effort,  as  by  a  natural  contin- 
uation of  that  belief,  to  believe  also  in  the  Catholic  Church  as  God's 
messenger  or  Prophet,  dismissing  as  worthless  the  objections  which  are 
adducible  against  the  latter  truth,  as  he  dismisses  objections  adducible 
against  the  former.  And  I  consider,  on  the  other  hand,  that  when  a 
man  does  not  believe  in  the  Church,  then  (the  same  accidental  imped- 
iments being  put  aside  as  before),  there  is  nothing  in  reason  to  keep  him 
from  doubting  the  being  of  a  God. 

The  state  of  the  case  is  this  ; — every  one  spontaneously  embraces  the 
doctrine  of  the  existence  of  God,  as  a  first  principle,  and  a  necessary 
assumption.  It  is  not  so  much  proved  to  him,  as  borne  in  upon  his 
mind  irresistibly,  as  a  truth  which  it  does  not  occur  to  him,  nor  is  possible 
for  him,  to  doubt ;  so  various  and  so  abundant  is  the  witness  for  it 
contained  in  the  experience  and  the  conscience  of  every  one.  He  cannot 
unravel  the  process,  or  put  his  finger  on  the  independent  arguments, 
which  conspire  together  to  create  in  him  the  certainty  which  he  feels ; 
(182) 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  183 

but  certain  of  it  he  is,  and  he  has  neither  the  temptation  nor  the  wish  to 
doubt  it,  and  he  could,  should  need  arise,  at  least  point  to  the  books  or 
the  persons  from  whence  he  could  obtain  the  various  formal  proofs  on 
which  the  being  of  a  God  rests,  and  the  irrefragable  demonstration  thence 
resulting  against  the  freethinker  and  the  sceptic.  At  the  same  time  he  cer- 
tainly would  find,  if  he  was  in  a  condition  to  pursue  the  subject  himself, 
that  unbelievers  had  the  advantage  of  him  so  far  as  this, — that  there 
were  a  number  of  objections  to  the  doctrine  which  he  could  not  satisfy, 
questions  which  he  could  not  solve,  mysteries  which  he  could  neither 
conceive  nor  explain ;  he  would  perceive  that  the  body  of  proof  itself 
might  be  more  perfect  and  complete  than  it  is ;  he  would  not  find  indeed 
anything  to  invalidate  that  proof,  but  many  things  which  might  embarrass 
him  in  discussion,  or  afford  a  plausible,  though  not  a  real,  excuse  for 
doubting  about  it. 

The  case  is  pretty  much  the  same  as  regards  the  great  moral  law  of 
God.  We  take  it  for  granted,  and  rightly ;  what  could  we  do,  where 
should  we  be,  without  it  ?  how  could  we  conduct  ourselves,  if  there  were 
no  difference  between  right  and  wrong,  and  if  one  action  were  as  accept- 
able to  our  Creator  as  another?  Impossible!  if  anything  is  true  and 
divine,  the  rule  of  conscience  is  such,  and  it  is  frightful  to  suppose  the 
contrary.  Still,  in  spite  of  this,  there  is  quite  room  for  objectors  to 
insinuate  doubts  about  its  authority  or  its  enunciations ;  and  where  an 
inquirer  is  cold  and  fastidious,  or  careless,  or  wishes  an  excuse  for  diso- 
bedience, it  is  easy  for  him  to  perplex  and  disorder  his  reason,  till  he 
begins  to  question  whether  what  he  has  all  his  life  thought  to  be  sins,  are 
really  such,  and  whether  conscientiousness  is  not  in  fact  a  superstition. 

And  in  like  manner  as  regards  the  Catholic  Church ;  she  bears  upon 
her  the  tokens  of  divinity,  which  come  home  to  any  mind  at  once,  which 
has  not  been  possessed  by  prejudice,  and  educated  in  suspicion.  It  is 
not  so  much  a  process  of  inquiry  as  an  instantaneous  recognition,  on 
which  the  mind  believes.  Moreover,  it  is  possible  to  analyze  the  argu- 
ments and  draw  up  in  form  the  great  proof,  on  which  her  claims  rest ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  quite  possible  also  for  opponents  to  bring 
forward  certain  imposing  objections,  which,  though  they  do  not  really 
interfere  with  those  claims,  still  are  specious  in  themselves,  and  are  suffi- 
cient to  arrest  and  entangle  the  mind,  and  to  keep  it  back  from  a  fair 
examination  of  the  proof,  and  of  the  vast  array  of  arguments  of  which  it 
consists.  I  am  alluding  to  such  objections  as  the  following : — How  can 
Almighty  God  be  Three  and  yet  One ;  how  can  Christ  be  God  and  yet 
man ;  how  can  He  be  at  once  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  under  the  form 
of  Bread  and  Wine,  and  yet  in  heaven  ;  how  is  the  doctrine  of  eternal 
punishment  consistent  with  the  Infinite  Mercy  of  God ; — or,  again,  how 


184  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

is  it  that,  if  the  Catholic  Church  be  from  God,  the  gift  of  belonging  to 
her  is  not,  and  has  not  been,  granted  to  all  men ;  how  is  it  that  so  many 
apparently  good  men  are  external  to  her ;  why  does  she  pay  such  honor 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  all  Saints ;  how  is  it  that,  since  the  Bible  also 
is  from  God,  it  admits  of  being  quoted  in  opposition  to  her  teaching ;  in 
a  word,  how  is  it,  if  she  is  from  God,  that  everything  which  she  does  and 
says,  is  not  perfectly  intelligible  to  man,  intelligible,  not  only  to  man  in 
general,  but  to  the  reason  and  judgment  and  taste  of  every  individual 
of  the  species,  taken  one  by  one  ? 

Now,  whatever  my  anxiety  may  be  about  the  next  generation,  I  trust 
I  need  at  present  have  none  in  insisting,  before  a  congregation  however 
mixed,  on  the  mysteries  or  difficulties  which  attach  to  the  doctrine  of 
God's  existence,  and  which  must  be  of  necessity  acquiesced  in  by  every 
one  who  believes  it.  I  trust,  and  am  sure,  that  as  yet  it  is  safe  even  to 
put  before  one  who  is  not  a  Catholic  some  points  which  he  is  obliged  to 
accept,  whether  he  will  or  no,  when  he  confesses  that  there  is  a  God. 
I  am  going  to  do  so,  not  wantonly,  but  with  a  definite  object,  by  way  of 
showing  him,  that  he  is  not  called  on  to  believe  anything  in  the  Catholic 
Church  more  strange  or  inexplicable  than  he  already  admits  when  he 
believes  in  a  God ;  so  that,  if  God  exists  in  spite  of  the  difficulties  attend- 
ing the  doctrine,  so  the  Church  may  be  of  divine  origin,  though  that 
truth  also  has  its  difficulties ; — nay,  I  might  even  say,  the  Church  is 
divine,  because  of  those  difficulties ;  for  the  difficulties  which  exist  in  the 
doctrine  that  there  is  a  Divine  Being,  do  but  give  countenance  and  pro- 
tection to  parallel  difficulties  in  the  doctrine  that  there  is  a  Catholic 
Church.  If  there  be  mysteriousness  in  her  teaching,  this  does  but  show 
that  she  proceeds  from  Him,  who  is  Himself  Mystery,  in  the  most  simple 
and  elementary  ideas  which  we  have  of  Him,  whom  we  cannot  contem- 
plate at  all  except  as  One  who  is  absolutely  greater  than  our  reason,  and 
utterly  strange  to  our  imagination. 

First,  then,  consider  that  Almighty  God  had  no  beginning,  and  that 
this  is  necessary  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  inevitable.  For  if  (to 
suppose  what  is  absurd)  the  maker  of  the  visible  world  was  himself  made 
by  some  other  maker,  and  that  maker  again  by  another,  you  must  any- 
how come  at  last  to  a  first  Maker  who  had  no  maker,  that  is,  who  had  no 
beginning.  If  you  will  not  admit  this,  you  will  be  forced  to  say  that  the 
world  was  not  made  at  all,  or  made  itself,  and  itself  had  no  beginning, 
which  is  more  wonderful  still ;  for  it  is  much  easier  to  conceive  that  a 
Spirit,  such  as  God  is,  existed  from  eternity,  than  that  this  material  world 
was  eternal.  Unless,  then,  we  are  resolved  to  doubt  that  we  live  in  a  world 
of  beings  at  all,  unless  we  doilbt  our  own  existence,  if  we  do  but  grant  that 
there  is  something  or  other  now  existing,  it  follows  at  once,  that  there 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  185 

must  be  something  or  other  which  has  always  existed,  and  never  had  a 
beginning.  This,  then,  is  certain  from  the  necessity  of  the  case ;  but  can 
there  be  a  more  overwhelming  mystery  than  it  is  ?  To  say  that  a  being 
had  no  beginning  seems  a  contradiction  in  terms ;  it  is  a  mystery  as  great, 
or  rather  greater,  than  any  in  the  Catholic  Faith.  For  instance,  it  is  the 
teaching  of  the  Church  that  the  Father  is  God,  the  Sen  God,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  God,  yet  that  there  is  but  one  God ;  this  is  simply  incompre- 
hensible to  us,  but  at  least,  so  far  as  this,  it  involves  no  self-contradiction, 
because  God  is  not  Three  and  One  in  the  same  sense,  but  He  is  Three  in 
one  sense  and  One  in  another ;  on  the  contrary,  to  say  that  any  being 
has  no  beginning,  is  like  a  statement  which  means  nothing  and  is  an  ab- 
surdity. And  so  again,  Protestants  think  that  the  Catholic  doctrine  of 
the  Real  Presence  cannot  be  true,  because,  if  so  (as  they  argue),  our  Lord's 
Body  is  in  two  places  at  once,  in  Heaven  and  upon  the  Altar,  and  this 
they  say  is  an  impossibility.  Now,  Catholics  do  not  see  that  it  is  impos- 
sible at  all,  that  our  Lord  should  be  in  Heaven,  yet  on  the  Altar;  they 
do  not  indeed  see  how  it  can  be  both,  but  they  do  not  see  why  it  should 
not  be;  there  are  many  things  which  exist,  though  we  do  not  know  how ; 
— do  we  know  ^^w  anything  exists? — there  are  many  truths  which  are 
not  less  truths  because  we  cannot  picture  them  to  ourselves  or  conceive 
them ;  but  at  any  rate,  the  Catholic  doctrine  concerning  the  Real  Pres- 
ence is  not  more  mysterious  than  how  Almighty  God  can  exist,  yet  never 
have  come  into  existence.  We  do  not  know  what  is  meant  by  saying 
that  Almighty  God  will  have  no  end,  but  still  there  is  nothing  here  to 
distress  or  confuse  our  reason,  but  it  distorts  our  mental  sight  and  makes 
our  head  giddy  to  have  to  say  (what  nevertheless  we  cannot  help  saying), 
that  He  had  no  beginning.  Reason  brings,  it  home  clearly  to  us,  yet 
reason  again  starts  at  it ;  reason  starts  back  from  its  own  discover}'-,  yet 
is  obliged  to  endure  it.  It  discovers,  it  shrinks,  it  submits ;  such  is  the 
state  of  the  case,  but,  I  say,  they  who  are  obliged  to  bow  their  neck  to 
this  mystery,  need  not  be  so  sensitive  about  the  mysteries  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

Then  think  of  this  again,  which,  though  not  so  baffling  to  the  reason, 
still  is  most  bewildering  to  the  imagination ; — that,  if  the  Almighty  had 
no  beginning  He  must  have  lived  a  whole  eternity  by  Himself.  What 
an  awful  thought !  for  us,  our  happiness  lies  in  looking  up  to  some  object, 
or  pursuing  some  end ;  we,  poor  mortal  men,  cannot  understand  a  pro- 
longed rest,  except  as  a  sort  of  sloth  and  self-forgetfulness ;  we  are 
wearied  if  we  meditate  for  one  short  hour ;  what,  then,  is  meant  when  it  is 
said,  that  He,  the  Great  God,  passed  infinite  ages  by  Himself?  What 
was  the  end  of  His  being?  He  was  His  own  end;  how  incomprehen- 
sible !     And  since  He  lived  a  whole  eternity  by  Himself,  He  might,  had 


186  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

He  so  willed,  never  have  created  anything;  and  then  from  eternity  to 
eternity  there  would  have  been  none  but  He,  none  to  witness  Him,  none 
to  contemplate  Him,  none  to  adore  and  praise  Him.  How  oppressive  to- 
think  of !  that  there  should  have  been  no  space,  no  time,  no  succession, 
no  variation,  no  progression,  no  scope,  no  termination.  One  Infinite. 
Being  from  first  to  last,  and  nothing  else !  And  why  He  ?  Which  is  the 
less  painful  to  our  imagination,  the  idea  of  only  one  Being  in  existence, 
or  of  nothing  at  all  ?  O  my  brethren,  here  is  mystery  without  mitigation^ 
without  relief !  how  severe  and  frightful !  The  mysteries  of  Revelation, 
the  Catholic  dogmas,  inconceivable  as  they  are,  are  most  gracious,  most 
loving,  laden  with  mercy  and  consolation  to  us,  not  only  sublime,  but 
touching  and  winning ; — such  is  the  doctrine  that  God  became  man.  In- 
comprehensible it  is,  and  we  can  but  adore,  when  we  hear  that  the 
Almighty  Being,  of  whom  I  have  been  speaking,  "  who  inhabiteth  eter- 
nity," has  taken  flesh  and  blood  of  a  Virgin's  veins,  lain  in  a  Virgin's 
womb,  been  suckled  at  a  Virgin's  breast,  been  obedient  to  human  parents,^ 
worked  at  an  humble  trade,  been  despised  by  His  own,  been  buffeted  and 
scourged  by  His  creatures,  been  nailed  hand  and  foot  to  a  Cross,  and  has 
died  a  malefactor's  death ;  and  that  now,  under  the  form  of  Bread,  He 
should  lie  upon  our  Altars,  and  suffer  Himself  to  be  hidden  in  a  small 
tabernacle ! 

Most  incomprehensible,  but  still,  while  the  thought  overwhelms  our 
imagination,  it  also  overpowers  our  heart ;  it  is  the  most  subduing,  affect- 
ing, piercing  thought  which  can  be  pictured  to  us.  It  thrills  through  us, 
and  draws  our  tears,  and  abases  us,  and  melts  us  into  love  and  affection, 
when  we  dwell  upon  it.  O  most  tender  and  compassionate  Lord  !  You  see. 
He  puts  out  of  our  sight  that  mysteriousness  of  His,  which  is  only  awful 
and  terrible;  He  insists  not  on  His  past  eternity;  He  would  not  scare 
and  trouble  His  poor  children,  when  at  length  He  speaks  to  them;  no. 
He  does  but  surround  Himself  with  His  own  infinite  bountifulness  and 
compassion ;  He  bids  His  Church  tell  us  only  of  His  mysterious  conde- 
scension. Still  our  reason,  prying,  curious  reason,  searches  out  for  us- 
those  prior  and  more  austere  mysteries,  which  are  attached  to  His  Being, 
and  He  suffers  us  to  find  them  out.  He  suffers  us,  for  He  knows  that 
that  same  reason,  though  it  recoils  from  them,  must  put  up  with  them  ; 
He  knows  that  they  will  be  felt  by  it  to  be  clear,  inevitable  truths,  appal- 
ling as  they  are.  He  suffers  it  to  discover  them,  in  order  that,  both  by 
the  parallel  and  by  the  contrast  between  what  reason  infers  and  what  the 
Church  reveals,  we  may  be  drawn  on  from  the  awful  discoveries  of  the 
one  to  the  gracious  announcements  of  the  other ;  and  in  order,  too,  that 
the  rejection  of  Revelation  may  be  its  own  punishment,  and  that  they 
who  stumble  at  the  Catholic  mysteries  may  be  dashed  back  upon  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  187 

adamantine  rocks  which  base  the  throne  of  the  Everlasting,  and  may 
wrestle  with  the  stern  conclusions  of  reason,  since  they  refuse  the  bright 
consolations  of  faith. 

And  now  another  difificulty,  which  reason  discovers,  yet  cannot  explain. 
Since  the  world  exists,  and  did  not  ever  exist,  there  was  a  time  when  the 
Almighty  changed  that  state  of  things,  which  had  been  from  all  eternity, 
for  another  state.  It  was  wonderful  that  He  should  be  by  Himself  for 
an  eternity ;  moreover,  it  had  been  wonderful,  had  He  never  changed  it ; 
but  it  is  wonderful,  too,  that  He  did  change  it.  It  is  wonderful  that, 
being  for  an  eternity  alone.  He  should  ever  pass  from  that  solitary  state, 
and  surround  Himself  with  millions  upon  millions  of  living  beings.  A 
state  which  had  been  from  eternity  might  well  be  considered  unchange- 
able; yet  it  ceased,  and  another  superseded  it.  What  end  could  the 
All-blessed  have  had  in  beginning  to  create,  and  in  determining  to  pass  a 
second  eternity  so  differently  from  the  first  ?  This  mystery,  my  brethren, 
will  tend  to  reconcile  us,  I  think,  to  the  difficulty  of  a  question  sometimes 
put  to  us  by  unbelievers,  viz.,  if  the  Catholic  Religion  is  from  God,  why 
was  it  set  up  so  late  in  the  world's  day  ?  Why  did  some  thousands  of 
years  pass  before  Christ  came  and  His  gifts  were  poured  upon  the  race  of 
man  ?  But,  surely,  it  is  not  so  strange  that  the  Judge  of  men  should 
have  changed  His  dealings  toward  them  "  in  the  midst  of  the  years,"  as 
that  He  should  have  changed  the  history  of  the  heavens  in  the  midst  of 
eternity.  If  creation  had  a  beginning  at  a  certain  date,  why  should  not 
redemption  ?  And  if  we  be  forced  to  believe,  whether  we  will  or  no, 
that  there  was  once  an  innovation  upon  the  course  of  things  on  high,  and 
that  the  universe  arose  out  of  nothing,  and  if,  even  when  the  earth  was 
created,  still  it  remained  "  empty  and  void,  and  darkness  was  upon  the 
face  of  the  deep,"  what  so  great  marvel  is  it,  that  there  was  a  fixed  period 
in  God's  inscrutable  counsels,  during  which  there  was  "  a  bond  fastened 
upon  all  people,"  and  a  "■  web  drawn  over  them,"  and  then  a  date,  at 
which  the  bond  of  thraldom  was  broken,  and  the  web  of  error  was  unrav- 
elled? 

Well,  let  us  suppose  the  innovation  decreed  in  the  eternal  purpose  of 
the  Most  High,  and  that  creation  is  to  be ;  of  whom,  my  brethren,  shall 
it  consist  ?  Doubtless  of  beings  who  can  praise  and  bless  Him,  who  can 
admire  His  perfections,  and  obey  His  will,  who  will  be  least  unworthy  to 
minister  about  His  Throne,  and  to  keep  Him  company.  Look  around, 
and  say  how  far  facts  bear  out  this  anticipation.  There  is  but  one  race 
of  intelligent  beings,  as  far  as  we  have  experience  by  nature,  and  a 
thousand  races  which  cannot  love  or  worship  Him  who  made  them.  Millions 
upon  millions  enjoy  their  brief  span  of  life,  but  man  alone  can  look  up  to 
heaven ;  and  what  is  man,  many  though  he  be,  what  is  he  in  the  presence 


188  DISCO UHSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

of  so  innumerable  a  multitude  ?  Consider  the  abundance  of  beasts  that 
range  the  earth,  of  birds  under  the  firmament  of  heaven,  of  fish  in  the 
depths  of  the  ocean,  and,  above  all,  the  exuberant  varieties  of  insects, 
which  baffle  our  enumeration  by  their  minuteness,  and  our  powers  of 
conception  by  their  profusion.  Doubtless  they  all  show  forth  the  glory 
of  the  Creator,  as  do  the  elements,  "  fire,  hail,  snow,  and  ice,  stormy 
winds,  which  fulfil  His  word."  Yet  not  one  of  them  has  a  soul,  not  one 
of  them  knows  who  made  it,  or  that  it  is  made,  not  one  can  render  Him 
any  proper  service,  not  one  can  love  Him.  Indeed  how  far  does  the 
whole  world  come  short  in  all  respects  of  what  it  might  be !  It  is  not 
even  possessed  of  created  excellence  in  fulness.  It  is  stamped  with 
imperfection  ;  everything  indeed  is  good  in  its  kind,  for  God  could  create 
nothing  otherwise  :  but  how  much  more  fully  might  He  have  poured  His 
glory  and  infused  His  grace  into  it,  how  much  more  beautiful  and  divine 
a  world  might  He  have  made,  than  that  which,  after  an  eternal  silence. 
He  summoned  into  being!  Let  reason  answer,  I  repeat, — Why  is  it  that 
He  did  not  surround  Himself  with  spiritual  intelligences,  and  animate 
every  material  atom  with  a  soul?  Why  made  He  not  the  very  footstool 
of  His  Throne  and  the  pavement  of  His  Temple  of  an  angelic  nature,  of 
beings  who  could  praise  and  bless  Him,  while  they  did  Him  menial 
service?  Set  man's  wit  and  man's  imagination  to  the  work  of  devising  a 
world,  and  you  would  see,  my  brethren,  what  a  far  more  splendid  design 
he  would  submit  for  it,  than  met  the  good  pleasure  of  the  Omnipotent  and 
All-wise.  Ambitious  architect  he  would  have  been,  if  called  to  build  the 
palace  of  the  Lord  of  all,  in  which  ever>'  single  part  would  have  been  the 
best  conceivable,  the  colors  all  the  brightest,  the  materials  the  most  costly, 
and  the  lineaments  the  most  perfect.  Pass  from  man's  private  fancies 
and  ideas,  and  fastidious  criticisms  on  the  vast  subject ;  come  to  facts 
which  are  before  our  eyes,  and  report  what  meets  them.  We  see  a 
universe,  material  for  the  most  part  and  corruptible,  fashioned  indeed  by 
laws  of  infinite  skill,  and  betokening  an  All-wise  Hand,  but  lifeless  and 
senseless ;  huge  globes,  hurled  into  space,  and  moving  mechanically ; 
subtle  influences,  penetrating  into  the  most  hidden  corners  and  pores  of 
the  world,  as  quick  and  keen  as  thought,  yet  as  helpless  as  the  clay  from 
which  thought  has  departed.  And  next,  life  without  sense;  myriads  of 
trees  and  plants,  "  the  grass  of  the  field,"  beautiful  to  the  eye,  but  per- 
ishable and  worthless  in  the  sight  of  heaven.  And  then,  when  at  length 
we  discover  sense  as  well  as  life,  what,  I  repeat,  do  we  see  but  a  greater 
mystery  still  ?  We  behold  the  spectacle  of  brute  nature ;  of  impulses, 
feelings,  propensities,  passions,  which  in  us  are  ruled  or  repressed  by  a 
superintending  reason,  but  from  which,  when  ungovernable,  we  shrink,  as 
fearful  and  hateful,  because  in  us  they  would  be  sin.     Millions  of  irrational 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  189 

creatures  surround  us,  and  it  would  seem  as  though  the  Creator  had  left 
part  of  His  work  in  its  original  chaos,  so  monstrous  are  these  beings,  which 
move  and  feel  and  act  without  reflection  and  without  principle.  To 
matter  He  has  given  laws  ;  He  has  divided  the  moist  and  the  dry,  the 
heavy  and  the  rare,  the  light  and  the  dark ;  He  has  "  placed  the  sand  as  a 
boundary  for  the  sea,  a  perpetual  precept  which  it  shall  not  pass."  He 
has  tamed  the  elements,  and  made  them  servants  of  the  universal  good  ; 
but  the  brute  beasts  pass  to  and  fro  in  their  wildness  and  their  isolation, 
no  yoke  on  their  neck  or  "  bit  in  their  lips,"  the  enemies  of  all  they  meet, 
yet  without  the  capacity  of  self-love.  They  live  on  each  other's  flesh  by 
an  original  necessity  of  their  being ;  their  eyes,  their  teeth,  their  claws, 
their  muscles,  their  voice,  their  walk,  their  structure  within,  all  speak  of 
violence  and  blood.  They  seem  made  to  inflict  pain  ;  they  rush  on  their 
prey  with  fierceness,  and  devour  it  with  greediness.  There  is  scarce  a 
passion  or  a  feeling  which  is  sin  in  man,  but  is  found  brute  and  irresponsible 
in  them.  Rage,  wanton  cruelty,  hatred,  sullenness,  jealousy,  revenge, 
cunning,  malice,  envy,  lust,  vainglory,  gluttony,  each  has  its  representa- 
tive ;  and  say,  O  theistical  philosopher  of  this  world,  who  wouldst  fain 
walk  by  reason  only,  and  scornest  the  Catholic  faith,  is  it  not  marvellous, 
or  explain  it,  if  thou  canst,  that  the  All-wise  and  All-good  should  have 
poured  over  the  face  of  His  fair  creation  these  rude  and  inchoate  exist- 
ences, to  look  like  sinners,  though  they  be  not ;  and  these  too  created  be- 
fore man,  perhaps  for  an  untold  period,  and  dividing  the  earth  with  him 
since,  and  the  actual  lords  of  a  great  portion  of  it  even  now  ? 

The  crowning  work  of  God  is  man  ;  he  is  the  flower  and  perfection  of 
creation,  and  made  to  serve  and  worship  his  Creator ;  look  at  him  then,  O 
Sages,  who  scoff  at  the  revealed  word,  scrutinize  him,  and  say  in  sinceri- 
ty, is  he  a  fit  offering  to  present  to  the  great  God  ?  I  must  not  speak  of 
sin ;  you  will  not  acknowledge  the  term,  or  will  explain  it  away ;  yet 
consider  man  as  he  is  found  in  the  world,  and — owning,  as  you  must  own, 
that  the  many  do  not  act  by  rule  or  principle,  and  that  few  give  any 
honor  to  their  Maker — seeing,  as  you  see,  that  enmities,  frauds,  cruelties, 
oppressions,  injuries,  excesses  are  almost  the  constituents  of  human  life 
— knowing  too  the  wonderful  capabilities  of  man,  yet  their  necessary 
frustration  in  so  brief  an  existence, — can  you  venture  to  say  that  the 
Church's  yoke  is  heavy,  when  you  yourselves,  viewing  the  Universe  from 
end  to  end,  are  compelled,  by  the  force  of  reason,  to  submit  your  reason 
to  the  confession  that  God  has  created  nothing  perfect,  a  world  of  order 
which  is  dead  and  corruptible,  a  world  of  immortal  spirits  which  is  in 
rebellion  ? 

I  come,  then,  to  this  conclusion  : — if  I  must  submit  my  reason  to  mys- 
teries, it  is  not  much  matter  whether  it  is  a  mystery  more  or  a  mystery 


190  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

less,  when  faith  anyhow  is  the  very  essence  of  all  religion,  when  the  main 
difficulty  to  an  inquirer  is  firmly  to  hold  that  there  is  a  Living  God,  in 
spite  of  the  darkness  which  surrounds  Him,  the  Creator,  Witness,  and 
Judge  of  men.  When  once  the  mind  is  broken  in,  as  it  must  be,  to  the 
belief  of  a  Power  above  it,  when  once  it  understands,  that  it  is  not  itself 
the  measure  of  all  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  it  will  have  little  difficulty 
in  going  forward.  I  do  not  say  it  will,  or  can,  go  on  to  other  truths, 
without  conviction ;  I  do  not  say  it  ought  to  believe  the  Catholic  faith 
without  grounds  and  motives ;  but  I  say  that,  when  once  it  believes  in 
God,  the  great  obstacle  to  faith  has  been  taken  away, — a  proud,  self- 
sufficient  spirit.  When  once  a  man  really,  with  the  eyes  of  his  soul  and 
by  the  power  of  divine  grace,  recognizes  his  Creator,  he  has  passed  a  line ; 
that  has  happened  to  him  which  cannot  happen  twice ;  he  has  bent  his 
stiff  neck,  and  triumphed  over  himself.  If  he  believes  that  God  has  no 
beginning,  why  not  believe  that  He  is  Three  yet  One  ?  if  he  owns  that 
God  created  space,  why  not  own  also  that  He  can  cause  a  body  to  sub- 
sist without  dependence  on  place?  if  he  is  obliged  to  grant  that  God 
created  all  things  out  of  nothing,  why  doubt  His  power  to  change  the 
substance  of  bread  into  the  Body  of  His  Son?  It  is  as  strange  that, 
after  an  eternal  rest.  He  should  begin  to  create,  as  that,  when  He  had 
once  created,  He  should  take  on  Himself  a  created  nature ;  it  is  as 
strange  that  man  should  be  allowed  to  fall  so  low,  as  we  see  before  our 
eyes  in  so  many  dreadful  instances,  as  that  Angels  and  Saints  should  be 
exalted  even  to  religious  honors ;  it  is  as  strange  that  such  large  families 
in  the  animal  world  should  be  created  without  souls  and  subject  to 
vanity,  as  that  one  creature,  the  Blessed  Mother  of  God,  shpuld  be  ex- 
alted over  all  the  rest ;  as  strange,  that  the  book  of  nature  should  some- 
times seem  to  vary  from  the  rule  of  conscience  or  the  conclusions  of  rea- 
son, as  that  the  Church's  Scriptures  should  admit  of  being  interpreted  in 
opposition  to  her  Tradition.  And  if  it  shocks  a  religious  mind  to  doubt 
of  the  being  of  the  All-wise  and  All-good  God,  on  the  ground  of  the  mys- 
teries in  Nature,  why  may  it  not  shrink  also  from  using  the  revealed 
mysteries  as  an  argument  against  Revelation  ? 

And  now,  my  dear  brethren,  who  are  as  yet  external  to  the  Church,  if 
I  have  brought  you  as  far  as  this,  I  really  do  not  see  why  I  have  not 
brought  you  on  to  make  your  submission  to  her.  Can  you  deliberately 
sit  down  amid  the  bewildering  mysteries  of  creation,  when  a  refuge  is 
held  out  to  you,  in  which  reason  is  rewarded  for  its  faith  by  the  fulfilment 
of  its  hopes  ?  Nature  does  not  exempt  you  from  the  trial  of  believing, 
but  it  gives  you  nothing  in  return ;  it  does  but  disappoint  you.  You 
must  submit  your  reason  anyhow ;  you  are  not  in  better  circumstances  if 
you  turn  from  the  Church ;  you  merely  do  not  secure  what  you  have  al- 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  191 

Teady  sought  in  nature  in  vain.  The  simple  question  to  be  decided  is 
■one  of  fact,  has  a  revelation  been  given  ?  You  lessen,  not  increase,  your 
•difificulties  by  receiving  it.  It  comes  to  you  recommended  and  urged  up- 
on you  by  the  most  favorable  anticipations  of  reason.  The  very  difificul- 
ties  of  nature  make  it  likely  that  a  revelation  should  be  made ;  the  very 
mysteries  of  creation  call  for  some  act  on  the  part  of  the  Creator,  by 
which  those  mysteries  shall  be  alleviated  to  you  or  compensated.  One  of 
the  greatest  of  the  perplexities  of  nature  is  this  very  one,  that  the  Crea- 
tor should  have  left  you  to  yourselves.  You  know  there  is  a  God,  yet 
you  know  your  own  ignorance  of  Him,  of  His  will,  of  your  duties,  of 
your  prospects.  A  revelation  would  be  the  greatest  of  possible  boons 
which  could  be  vouchsafed  to  you.  After  all,  you  do  not  know,  you  only 
conclude  that  there  is  a  God  ;  you  see  Him  not,  you  do  but  hear  of  Him. 
He  acts  under  a  veil;  He  is  on  the  point  of  manifesting  Himself  to  you 
at  every  turn,  yet  He  does  not.  He  has  impressed  on  your  hearts  antic- 
ipations of  His  majesty;  in  every  part  of  creation  has  He  left  traces  of 
His  presence  and  given  glimpses  of  His  glory;  you  come  up  to  the  spot, 
He  has  been  there,  but  He  is  gone.  He  has  taught  you  His  law,  unequiv- 
ocally indeed,  but  by  deduction  and  by  suggestion,  not  by  direct  com- 
mand. He  has  always  addressed  you  circuitously,  by  your  inward  sense, 
by  the  received  opinion,  by  the  events  of  life,  by  vague  traditions,  by 
dim  histories ;  'but  as  if  of  set  purpose,  and  by  an  evident  law,  He  nevw 
actually  appears  to  your  longing  eyes  or  your  weary  heart.  He  never 
confronts  you  with  Himself.  What  can  be  meant  by  all  this.''  a  spiritual 
being  abandoned  by  its  Creator !  there  must  doubtless  be  some  awful 
and  all-wise  reason  for  it ;  still  a  sore  trial  it  is :  so  sore,  surely,  that  you 
must  gladly  hail  the  news  of  His  interference  to  remove  or  diminish  it. 

The  news  then  of  a  revelation,  far  from  suspicious,  is  borne  in  upon 
our  hearts  by  the  strongest  presumptions  of  reason  in  its  behalf.  It  is 
hard  to  believe  that  it  has  not  been  given,  as  indeed  the  conduct  of  man- 
kind has  ever  shown.  You  cannot  help  expecting  it  from  the  hands  of 
the  All-merciful,  unworthy  as  you  feel  yourselves  of  it.  It  is  not  that 
you  can  claim  it,  but  that  He  inspires  hope  of  it ;  it  is  not  you  that  are 
worthy  of  the  gift,  but  it  is  the  gift  which  is  worthy  of  your  Creator.  It 
is  so  urgently  probable,  that  little  evidence  is  required  for  it,  even  though 
but  little  were  given.  Evidence  that  God  has  spoken  you  must  have, 
else  were  you  a  prey  to  impostures ;  but  its  extreme  likelihood  allows 
you,  were  it  necessary,  to  dispense  with  all  proof  that  is  not  barely  suf- 
ficient for  your  purpose.  The  very  fact,  I  say,  that  there  is  a  Creator,  and 
a  hidden  one,  powerfully  bears  you  on  and  sets  you  down  at  the  very 
threshold  of  revelation,  and  leaves  you  there  looking  up  earnestly  for  di- 
vine tokens  that  a  revelation  has  been  made. 


192  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Do  you  go  with  me  as  far  as  this,  that  a  revelation  is  probable  ?  well 
then,  a  second  remark,  and  I  have  done.  It  is  this, — the  teaching  of  the 
Church  manifestly  is  that  revelation.  Why  should  it  not  be  ?  This  mark 
has  she  upon  her  at  very  first  sight,  that  she  is  unlike  every  other  pro- 
fession of  religion.  Were  she  God's  Prophet  or  Messenger,  she  would  be 
distinctive  in  her  characteristics,  isolated,  and  special ;  and  so  she  is.  She 
is  one,  not  only  in  herself,  but  in  contrast  to  everything  else :  she  has  no 
relationship  with  any  other  body.  And  hence,  too,  you  see  the  question 
lies  between  the  Church  and  no  divine  messenger  at  all ;  there  is  no 
revelation  given  us,  unless  she  is  the  organ  of  it,  for  where  else  is  there  a 
Prophet  to  be  found  ?  The  anticipation,  which  I  have  been  urging,  has 
failed,  the  probability  has  been  falsified,  if  she  be  not  that  Prophet  of 
God.  Not  that  this  conclusion  is  an  absurdity,  for  you  cannot  take  it  for 
granted  that  your  hope  of  a  revelation  will  be  fulfilled  ;  but  in  whatever 
degree  it  is  probable  that  it  will  be  fulfilled,  in  that  degree  it  is  probable 
that  the  Church,  and  nothing  else,  is  the  means  of  fulfilling  it.  Nothing 
else ;  for  you  cannot  believe  in  your  heart  that  this  or  that  Sect,  that  this 
or  that  Establishment  is,  in  its  teaching  and  its  commands,  the  oracle  of 
the  Most  High.  I  know  you  cannot  say  in  your  heart,  "  I  believe  this  or 
that,  because  the  English  Establishment  or  the  Scotch  declares  that  it  is 
true."  Nor  could  you,  I  am  sure,  trust  the  Russian  hierarchy,  or  the 
Nestorian,  or  the  Eutychian  as  speaking  from  God ;  at  the  utmost  you 
might,  if  you  were  learned  in  these  matters,  look  on  them  as  venerable 
depositories  of  historical  matter,  and  witnesses  of  past  ages.  You  would 
exercise  your  judgment  and  criticism  on  what  they  said,  and  would  never 
think  of  taking  their  word  as  decisive ;  they  are  in  no  sense  Prophets, 
Oracles,  Judges,  of  supernatural  truth  ;  and  the  contrast  between  them 
and  the  Catholic  Church  is  a  preliminary  evidence  in  her  favor. 

A  Prophet  is  one  who  comes  from  God,  who  speaks  with  authority, 
who  is  ever  one  and  the  same,  who  is  precise  and  decisive  in  his  state- 
ments, who  is  equal  to  successive  difificulties,  and  can  smite  and  overthrow 
error.  Such  has  the  Catholic  Church  shown  herself  in  her  history,  such  is 
she  at  this  day.  She  alone  has  had  the  divine  spell  of  controlling  the 
reason  of  man,  and  of  eliciting  faith  in  her  word  from  high  and  low, 
educated  and  ignorant,  restless  and  dull-minded.  Even  those  who  are 
alien  to  her,  and  whom  she  does  not  move  to  obedience,  she  moves  to  re- 
spect and  admiration.  The  most  profound  thinkers  and  the  most  saga- 
cious politicians  predict  her  future  triumphs,  while  they  marvel  at  her 
past.  Her  enemies  are  frightened  at  the  sight  of  her,  and  have  no  better 
mode  of  warfare  against  her  than  that  of  blackening  her  with  slanders,  or 
of  driving  her  into  the  wilderness.  To  see  her  is  to  recognize  her ;  her 
look  and  bearing  is  the  evidence  of  her  royal  lineage.     True,  her  tokens 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  193 

might  be  clearer  than  they  are ;  I  grant  it ;  she  might  have  been  set  up 
in  Adam,  and  not  in  Peter ;  she  might  have  embraced  the  whole  family  of 
man ;  she  might  have  been  the  instrument  of  inwardly  converting  all 
hearts  ;  she  might  have  had  no  scandals  within  or  misfortunes  without ; 
she  might,  in  short,  have  been,  I  repeat,  a  heaven  on  earth  ;  but,  I  repeat, 
does  she  not  show  as  glorious  in  our  sight  as  a  creature,  as  her  God  does 
as  the  Creator?  If  He  does  not  display  the  highest  possible  tokens  of 
His  presence  in  nature,  why  should  His  Messenger  display  such  in  grace? 
You  believe  the  Scriptures ;  does  she  not  in  her  character  and  conduct 
show  as  divine  as  Jacob  does,  or  as  Samuel,  or  as  David,  or  as  Jeremias, 
or  in  a  far  higher  measure  ?  Has  she  not  notes  far  more  than  sufficient 
for  the  purpose  of  convincing  you  ?  She  takes  her  rise  from  the  very 
coming  of  Christ,  and  receives  her  charter,  as  also  her  very  form  and  mis- 
sion, from  His  mouth.  "  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona,  for  flesh  and 
blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 
And  I  say  unto  thee,  that  thou  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  rock  I  will  build 
my  Church,  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it.  And  I 
will  give  to  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  whatsoever 
thou  shalt  bind  upon  earth,  shall  be  bound  also  in  heaven,  and  whatso' 
ever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth,  shall  be  loosed  also  in  heaven." 

Coming  to  you,  then,  from  the  very  time  of  the  Apostles,  spreading 
out  into  all  lands,  triumphing  over  a  thousand  revolutions,  exhibiting  so 
awful  a  unity,  glorying  in  so  mysterious  a  vitality,  so  majestic,  so  imper. 
turbable,  so  bold,  so  saintly,  so  sublime,  so  beautiful,  O  ye  sons  of  men, 
can  ye  doubt  that  she  is  the  Divine  Messenger  for  whom  you  seek?  Oh, 
long  sought  after,  tardily  found,  desire  of  the  eyes,  joy  of  the  heart,  the 
truth  after  many  shadows,  the  fulness  after  many  foretastes,  the  home 
after  many  storms,  come  to  her,  poor  wanderers,  for  she  it  is,  and  she 
alone,  who  can  unfold  the  meaning  of  your  being  and  the  secret  of  your 
destiny.  She  alone  can  open  to  you  the  gate  of  heaven,  and  put  you  on 
your  way.  "  Arise,  shine,  O  Jerusalem ;  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee ;  for,  behold,  darkness  shall  cover 
the  earth,  and  a  mist  the  people,  but  the  Lord  shall  arise  upon  thee,  and 
His  glory  shall  be  seen  upon  thee."  "  Open  ye  the  gates,  that  the  just 
nation,  that  keepeth  the  truth,  may  enter  in.  The  old  error  is  passed 
away  ;  Thou  wilt  keep  peace, — peace,  because  we  have  hoped  in  Thee. 
Lord,  Thou  wilt  give  peace  to  us,  for  Thou  hast  wrought  all  our  works  for 
us.  O  Lord,  our  God,  other  lords  besides  Thee  have  had  dominion  over 
us,  but  in  Thee  only  make  we  mention  of  Thy  Name.  The  dying,  they 
shall  not  live ;  the  giants,  they  shall  not  rise  again  ;  therefore  Thou  hast 
visited  and  broken  them,  and  hast  destroyed  all  their  memory." 

O  my  brethren,  turn  away  from  the  Catholic  Church,  and  to  whom 


194  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

will  you  go  ?  it  is  your  only  chance  of  peace  and  assurance  in  this  turbu- 
lent, changing  world.  There  is  nothing  between  it  and  scepticism,  when 
men  exert  their  reason  freely.  Private  creeds,  fancy  religions,  may  be 
showy  and  imposing  to  the  many  in  their  day;  national  religions  may  lie 
huge  and  lifeless,  and  cumber  the  ground  for  centuries,  and  distract  the 
attention  or  confuse  the  judgment  of  the  learned ;  but  on  the  long  run  it 
will  be  found  that  either  the  Catholic  Religion  is  verily  and  indeed  the 
coming  in  of  the  unseen  world  into  this,  or  that  there  is  nothing  positive, 
nothing  dogmatic,  nothing  real  in  any  of  our  notions  as  to  whence  we 
come  and  whither  we  are  going.  Unlearn  Catholicism,  and  you  open  the 
way  to  your  becoming  Protestant,  Unitarian,  Deist,  Pantheist,  Sceptic,  in 
a  dreadful,  but  inevitable  succession  ;  only  not  inevitable  by  some  accident 
of  your  position,  of  your  education,  and  of  your  cast  of  mind ;  only  not 
inevitable,  if  you  dismiss  the  subject  of  religion  from  your  view,  deny 
yourself  your  reason,  devote  your  thoughts  to  moral  duties,  or  dissipate 
them  in  engagements  of  the  world.  Go,  then,  and  do  your  duty  to  your 
neighbor,  be  just,  be  kindly-tempered,  be  hospitable,  set  a  good  example, 
uphold  religion  as  good  for  society,  pursue  your  business,  or  your  profes- 
sion, or  your  pleasure,  eat  and  drink,  read  the  news,  visit  your  friends, 
build  and  furnish,  plant  and  sow,  buy  and  sell,  plead  and  debate,  work  for 
the  world,  settle  your  children,  go  home  and  die,  but  eschew  religious  in- 
quiry, if  you  will  not  have  faith,  nor  fancy  that  you  can  have  faith,  if  you 
will  not  join  the  Church. 

Else  avoid,  I  say,  inquiry  ;  for  it  will  but  lead  you  thither,  where  there 
is  no  light,  no  peace,  no  hope ;  it  will  lead  you  to  the  deep  pit,  where  the 
sun,  and  the  moon,  and  the  stars,  and  the  beauteous  heavens  are  not,  but 
chilliness,  and  barrenness,  and  perpetual  desolation.  O  perverse  children 
of  men,  who  refuse  truth  when  offered  you,  because  it  is  not  truer !  O 
restless  hearts  and  fastidious  intellects,  who  seek  a  gospel  more  salutary 
than  the  Redeemer's,  and  a  creation  more  perfect  than  the  Creator's ! 
God,  forsooth,  is  not  great  enough  for  you  ;  you  have  those  high  aspira- 
tions and  those  philosophical  notions,  inspired  by  the  original  Tempter, 
which  are  content  with  nothing  that  is,  which  determine  that  the  Most 
High  is  too  little  for  your  worship,  and  His  attributes  too  narrow  for 
your  love. 

But  enough  ; — while  we  thus  speak  of  the  Evil  One  and  his  victims, 
let  us  not  forget  to  look  to  ourselves.  God  forbid  that,  while  we  preach 
to  others,  we  ourselves  should  become  castaways ! 


MENTAL  SUFFERINGS  OF  OUR  LORD  IN  HIS 

PASSION. 

VERY  passage  in  the  history  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  is  of  un- 
fathomable depth,  and  affords  inexhaustible  matter  of  con- 
templation. All  that  concerns  Him  is  infinite,  and  what  we 
first  discern  is  but  the  surface  of  that  which  begins  and  ends  in 
eternity.  It  would  be  presumptuous  for  any  one  short  of  Saints  and 
Doctors  to  attempt  to  comment  on  His  words  and  deeds,  except  in  the 
way  of  meditation  ;  but  meditation  and  mental  prayer  are  so  much  a  duty 
in  all  who  wish  to  cherish  true  faith  and  love  toward  Him,  that  it  may  be 
allowed  us,  my  brethren,  under  the  guidance  of  holy  men  who  have  gone 
before  us,  to  dwell  and  enlarge  upon  what  otherwise  would  more  fitly  be 
adored  than  scrutinized.  And  certain  times  of  the  year,  this  especially,* 
call  upon  us  to  consider,  as  closely  and  minutely  as  we  can,  even  the  more 
sacred  portions  of  the  Gospel  history.  I  would  rather  be  thought  feeble 
or  officious  in  my  treatment  of  them,  than  wanting  to  the  Season  ;  and 
so  I  now  proceed,  because  the  religious  usage  of  the  Church  requires  it, 
and  though  any  individual  preacher  may  well  shrink  from  it,  to  direct 
your  thoughts  to  a  subject,  especially  suitable  now,  and  about  which  many 
of  us  perhaps  think  very  little,  the  sufferings  which  our  Lord  endured  in 
His  innocent  and  sinless  soul. 

You  know,  my  brethren,  that  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  though  He  was 
God,  was  also  perfect  man  ;  and  hence  He  had  not  only  a  body,  but  a  soul 
likewise,  such  as  ours,  though  pure  from  all  stain  of  evil.  He  did  not  take 
a  body  without  a  soul,  God  forbid  !  for  that  would  not  have  been  to  be- 
come man.  How  would  He  have  sanctified  our  nature  by  taking  a 
nature  which  was  not  ours  ?  Man  without  a  soul  is  on  a  level  with  the 
beasts  of  the  field  ;  but  our  Lord  came  to  save  a  race  capable  of  praising 
and  obeying  Him,  possessed  of  immortality,  though  that  immortality  had 
lost  its  promised  blessedness.  Man  was  created  in  the  image  of  God,  and 
that  image  is  in  his  soul ;  when  then  his  Maker,  by  an  unspeakable  con- 
descension, came  in  his  nature,  He  took  on  Himself  a  soul  in  order  to 
take  on  Him  a  body;  He  took  on  Him  a  soul  as  the  means  of  His  union, 
with  a  body ;  He  took  on  Him  in  the  first  place  the  soul,  then  the  body 


*  Passion-tide. 

(195) 


196  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

of  man,  both  at  once,  but  in  this  order,  the  soul  and  the  body ;  He  Him- 
self created  the  soul  which  He  took  on  Himself,  while  He  took  His  body 
from  the  flesh  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  His  Mother.  Thus  He  became  per- 
fect man  with  body  and  soul ;  and,  as  He  took  on  Him  a  body  of  flesh 
and  nerves,  which  admitted  of  wounds  and  death,  and  was  capable  of  suf- 
fering, so  did  He  take  a  soul  too,  which  was  susceptible  of  that  suffering, 
and  moreover  was  susceptible  of  the  pain  and  sorrow  which  are  proper  to 
a  human  soul ;  and,  as  His  atoning  passion  was  undergone  in  the  body,  so 
it  was  undergone  in  the  soul  also. 

As  the  solemn  days  proceed,  we  shall  be  especially  called  on,  my 
brethren,  to  consider  His  sufferings  in  the  body,  His  seizure,  His  forced 
journeyings  to  and  fro.  His  blows  and  wounds,  His  scourging,  the  crown 
of  thorns,  the  nails,  the  Cross.  They  are  all  summed  up  in  the  Crucifix 
itself,  as  it  meets  our  eyes ;  they  are  represented  all  at  once  on  His  sacred 
flesh,  as  it  hangs  up  before  us, — and  meditation  is  made  easy  by  the  spec- 
tacle. It  is  otherwise  with  the  sufferings  of  His  soul:  they  cannot  be 
painted  for  us,  nor  can  they  even  be  duly  investigated  ;  they  are  beyond 
both  sense  and  thought,  and  yet  they  anticipated  His  bodily  sufferings. 
The  agony,  a  pain  of  the  soul,  not  of  the  body,  was  the  first  act  of  His 
tremendous  sacrifice ;  "  My  soul  is  sorrowful  even  unto  death,"  He  said  ; 
nay ;  if  He  suffered  in  the  body,  it  really  was  in  the  soul,  for  the  body  did 
not  convey  the  infliction  on  to  that,  which  was  the  true  recipient  and  seat 
of  the  suffering. 

This  it  is  very  much  to  the  purpose  to  insist  upon ;  I  say,  it  was  not 
the  body  that  suffered,  but  the  soul  in  the  body ;  it  was  the  soul,  and  not 
the  body,  which  was  the  seat  of  the  suffering  of  the  Eternal  Word.  Con- 
sider, then,  there  is  no  real  pain,  though  there  may  be  apparent  suffering, 
when  there  is  no  kind  of  inward  sensibility  or  spirit  to  be  the  seat  of  it. 
A  tree,  for  instance,  has  life,  organs,  growth,  and  decay  ;  it  may  be  wound- 
ed and  injured  ;  it  droops,  and  is  killed  ;  but  it  does  not  suffer,  because  it 
has  no  mind  or  sensible  principle  within  it.  But  wherever  this  gift  of  an 
immaterial  principle  is  found,  there  pain  is  possible,  and  greater  pain  ac- 
cording to  the  quality  of  the  gift.  Had  we  no  spirit  of  any  kind,  we 
should  feel  as  little  as  a  tree  feels ;  had  we  no  soul,  we  should  not  feel 
pain  more  acutely  than  a  brute  feels  it ;  but,  being  men,  we  feel  pain  in  a 
way  in  which  none  but  those  who  have  souls  can  feel  it. 

Living  beings,  I  say,  feel  more  or  less  according  to  the  spirit  which  is 
in  them ;  brutes  feel  far  less  than  man,  because  they  cannot  reflect  on 
what  they  feel ;  they  have  no  advertence  or  direct  consciousness  of  their 
sufferings.  This  it  is  that  makes  pain  so  trying,  viz.,  that  we  cannot  help 
thinking  of  it,  while  we  suffer  it.  It  is  before  us,  it  possesses  the  mind,  it 
keeps  our  thoughts  fixed  upon  it.     Whatever  draws  the  mind  off  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  I97 

thought  of  it,  lessens  it ;  hence  friends  try  to  amuse  us  when  we  are  in 
pain,  for  amusement  is  a  diversion.  If  the  pain  is  slight,  they  sometimes 
succeed  with  us  ;  and  then  we  are,  so  to  say,  without  pain,  even  while  we 
suffer.  And  hence  it  continually  happens  that  in  violent  exercise  or  labor, 
men  meet  with  blows  or  cuts,  so  considerable  and  so  durable  in  their  effect, 
as  to  bear  witness  to  the  suffering  which  must  have  attended  their  inflic- 
tion, of  which  nevertheless  they  recollect  nothing.  And  in  quarrels  and 
in  battles  wounds  are  received  which,  from  the  excitement  of  the  moment, 
are  brought  home  to  the  consciousness  of  the  combatant,  not  by  the  pain 
at  the  time  of  receiving  them,  but  by  the  loss  of  blood  that  follows. 

I  will  show  you  presently,  my  brethren,  how  I  mean  to  apply  what  I 
have  said  to  the  consideration  of  our  Lord's  sufferings ;  first  I  will  make 
another  remark.  Consider,  then,  that  hardly  any  one  stroke  of  pain  is 
intolerable ,  it  is  intolerable  when  it  continues.  You  cry  out  perhaps 
that  you  cannot  bear  more ;  patients  feel  as  if  they  could  stop  the 
surgeon's  hand,  simply  because  he  continues  to  pain  them.  Their  feeling 
is  that  they  have  borne  as  much  as  they  can  bear ;  as  if  the  continuance 
and  not  the  intenseness  was  what  made  it  too  much  for  them.  What 
does  this  mean,  but  that  the  memory  of  the  foregoing  moments  of  pain 
acts  upon  and  (as  it  were)  edges  the  pain  that  succeeds  ?  If  the  third  or 
fourth  or  twentieth  moment  of  pain  could  be  taken  by  itself,  if  the 
succession  of  the  moments  that  preceded  it  could  be  forgotten,  it  would 
be  no  more  than  the  first  moment,  as  bearable  as  the  first,  (taking  away 
the  shock  which  accompanies  the  first) ;  but  what  makes  it  unbearable  is, 
that  it  is  the  twentieth  ;  that  the  first,  the  second,  the  third,  on  to  the 
nineteenth  moment  of  pain,  are  all  concentrated  in  the  twentieth ;  so 
that  every  additional  moment  of  pain  has  all  the  force,  the  ever-increasing 
force,  of  all  that  has  preceded  it.  Hence,  I  repeat,  it  is  that  brute  animals 
would  seem  to  feel  so  little  pain,  because,  that  is,  they  have  not  the 
power  of  reflection  or  of  consciousness.  They  do  not  know  they  exist ; 
they  do  not  contemplate  themselves;  they  do  not  look  backwards  or 
forwards ;  every  moment  as  it  succeeds,  is  their  all ;  they  wander  over 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  see  this  thing  and  that,  and  feel  pleasure  and 
pain,  but  still  they  take  everything  as  it  comes,  and  then  let  it  go  again, 
as  men  do  in  dreams.  They  have  memory,  but  not  the  memory  of 
an  intellectual  being;  they  put  together  nothing,  they  make  nothing 
properly  one  and  individual  to  themselves  out  of  the  particular  sensations 
which  they  receive;  nothing  is  to  them  a  reality  or  has  a  substance 
beyond  those  sensations ;  they  are  but  sensible  of  a  number  of  successive 
impressions.  And  hence,  as  their  other  feelings,*  so  their  feeling  of  pain 
is  but  faint  and  dull,  in  spite  of  their  outward  manifestations  of  it.  It  is 
the  intellectual  comprehension  of  pain,  as  a  whole  diffused  through  sue- 


198  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

cessive  moments,  which  gives  it  its  special  power  and  keenness,  and  it  is 
the  soul  only,  which  a  brute  has  not,  which  is  capable  of  that  compre- 
hension. 

Now  apply  this  to  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord ; — do  you  recollect  their 
offering  Him  wine  mingled  with  myrrh,  when  He  was  on  the  point  of 
being  crucified?  He  would  not  drink  of  it ;  why?  because  such  a  potion 
would  have  stupefied  His  mind,  and  He  was  bent  on  bearing  the  pain  in 
all  its  bitterness.  You  see  from  this,  my  brethren,  the  character  of  His 
sufferings ;  He  would  have  fain  escaped  them,  had  that  been  His  Father's 
will ;  "  If  it  be  possible,"  He  said,  "  let  this  chalice  pass  from  me  ";  but 
since  it  was  not  possible.  He  says  calmly  and  decidedly  to  the  Apostle, 
who  would  have  rescued  Him  from  sufferings  "  The  chalice  which  my 
Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ? "  If  He  was  to  suffer. 
He  gave  Himself  to  suffering;  He  did  not  come  to  suffer  as  little  as  He 
could  ;  He  did  not  turn  away  His  face  from  the  suffering;  He  confronted 
it,  or,  as  I  may  say.  He  breasted  it,  that  every  particular  portion  of  it 
might  make  its  due  impression  on  Him.  And  as  men  are  superior  to 
brute  animals,  and  are  affected  by  pain  more  than  they,  by  reason  of  the 
mind  within  them,  which  gives  a  substance  to  pain,  such  as  it  cannot  have 
in  the  instance  of  birutes ;  so,  in  like  manner  our  Lord  felt  pain  of  the 
body,  with  an  advertence  and  a  consciousness,  and  therefore  with  a 
keenness  and  intensity,  and  with  a  unity  of  perception,  which  none  of  us 
can  possibly  fathom  or  compass,  because  His  soul  was  so  absolutely  in  His 
own  power,  so  simply  free  from  the  influence  of  distractions,  so  fully 
directed  upon  the  pain,  so  utterly  surrendered,  so  simply  subjected  to  the 
suffering.  And  thus  He  may  truly  be  said  to  have  suffered  the  whole  of 
His  passion  in  every  moment  of  it. 

Recollect  that  our  Blessed  Lord  was  in  this  respect  different  from  us, 
that,  though  He  was  perfect  man,  yet  there  was  a  power  in  Him  greater 
than  His  soul,  which  ruled  His  soul,  for  He  was  God.  The  soul  of 
other  men  is  subjected  to  its  own  wishes,  feelings,  impulses,  passions, 
perturbations ;  His  soul  was  subjected  simply  to  His  Eternal  and  Divine 
Personality.  Nothing  happened  to  His  soul,  by  chance,  or  on  a  sudden  ; 
He  never  was  taken  by  surprise;  nothing  affected  Him  without  His  willing 
beforehand  that  it  should  affect  Him.  Never  did  He  sorrow,  or  fear,  or 
desire,  or  rejoice  in  spirit,  but  He  first  willed  to  be  sorrowful,  or  afraid, 
or  desirous,  or  joyful.  When  we  suffer,  it  is  because  outward  agents  and 
the  uncontrollable  emotions  of  our  minds  bring  suffering  upon  us.  We 
are  brought  under  the  discipline  of  pain  involuntarily,  we  suffer  from  it 
more  or  less  acutely  according  to  accidental  circumstances,  we  find  our 
patience  more  or  less  tried  by  it  according  to  our  state  of  mind,  and 
we  do  our  best  to  provide  alleviations  or  remedies  of  it.     We  cannot 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.,  199 

anticipate  beforehand  how  much  of  it  will  come  upon  us,  or  how  far  we 
shall  be  able  to  sustain  it ;  nor  can  we  say  afterward  why  we  have  felt 
just  what  we  have  felt,  or  why  we  did  not  bear  the  suffering  better.  It 
was  otherwise  with  our  Lord.  His  Divine  Person  was  not  subject,  could 
not  be  exposed,  to  the  influence  of  His  own  human  affections  and  feelings, 
except  so  far  as  He  chose.  I  repeat,  when  He  chose  to  fear,  He  feared  ; 
when  He  chose  to  be  angry,  He  was  angry;  when  he  chose  to  grieve.  He 
was  grieved.  He  was  not  open  to  emotion,  but  He  opened  upon  Himself 
voluntarily  the  impulse  by  which  He  was  moved.  Consequently,  when 
He  determined  to  suffer  the  pain  of  His  vicarious  passion,  whatever  He 
did.  He  did,  as  the  Wise  Man  says,  instanter,  "earnestly,"  with  His 
might ;  He  did  not  do  it  by  halves  ;  He  did  not  turn  away  His  mind  from 
the  suffering  as  we  do ; — (how  should  He,  who  came  to  suffer,  who  could 
not  have  suffered  but  of  His  own  act  ?) — no.  He  did  not  say  and  unsay,  do 
and  undo ;  He  said  and  He  did ;  He  said,  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  Thy  will, 
O  God ;  sacrifice  and  offering  Thou  wouldest  not,  but  a  body  hast  Thou 
fitted  to  me."  He  took  a  body  in  order  that  He  might  suffer ;  He  became 
man,  that  He  might  suffer  as  man ;  and  when  His  hour  was  come,  that 
hour  of  Satan  and  of  darkness,  the  hour  when  sin  was  to  pour  its  full 
malignity  upon  Him,  it  followed  that  He  offered  Himself  wholly,  a 
holocaust,  a  whole  burnt-offering ; — as  the  whole  of  His  body,  stretched 
out  upon  the  Cross,  so  the  whole  of  His  soul.  His  whole  advertence.  His 
whole  consciousness,  a  mind  awake,  a  sense  acute,  a  living  co-operation, 
a  present,  absolute  intention,  not  a  virtual  permission,  not  a  heartless 
submission,  this  did  He  present  to  His  tormentors.  His  passion  was  an 
action ;  He  lived  most  energetically,  while  He  lay  languishing,  fainting, 
and  dying.  Nor  did  He  die,  except  by  an  act  of  the  will ;  for  He  bowed 
His  head,  in  command  as  well  as  in  resignation,  and  said,  "  Father,  into 
Thy  hands  I  commend  my  Spirit ";  He  gave  the  word,  He  surrendered 
His  soul,  He  did  not  lose  it. 

Thus  you  see,  my  brethren,  had  our  Lord  only  suffered  in  the  body, 
and  in  it  not  so  much  as  other  men,  still  as  regards  the  pain.  He  would 
have  really  suffered  infinitely  more,  because  pain  is  to  be  measured  by 
the  power  of  realizing  it.  God  was  the  sufferer;  God  suffered  in  His 
human  nature ;  the  sufferings  belonged  to  God,  and  were  drunk  up,  were 
drained  out  to  the  bottom  of  the  chalice,  because  God  drank  them ;  not 
tasted  or  sipped,  not  flavored,  disguised  by  human  medicaments,  as  man 
disposes  of  the  cup  of  anguish.  And  what  I  have  been  saying  will 
further  serve  to  answer  an  objection,  which  I  shall  proceed  to  notice,  and 
which  perhaps  exists  latently  in  the  minds  of  many,  and  leads  them  to 
overlook  the  part  which  our  Lord's  soul  had  in  His  gracious  satisfaclic:i 
for  sin. 


200  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Our  Lord  said,  when  His  agony  was  commencing,  "  My  soul  is 
sorrowful  unto  death";  now  you  may  ask,  my  brethren,  whether  He  had 
not  certain  consolations,  peculiar  to  Himself,  impossible  in  any  other, 
which  diminished  or  impeded  the  distress  of  His  soul,  and  caused  Him  to 
feel,  not  more,  but  less  than  an  ordinary  man.  For  instance.  He  had  a 
sense  of  innocence  which  no  other  sufferer  could  have ;  even  His 
persecutors,  even  the  false  apostle  who  betrayed  Him,  the  judge  who 
sentenced  Him,  and  the  soldiers  who  conducted  the  execution,  testified 
His  innocence.  "  I  have  condemned  the  innocent  blood,"  said  Judas ; 
"  I  am  clear  from  the  blood  of  this  just  Person,"  said  Pilate ;  "  Truly  this 
was  a  just  Man,"  cried  the  centurion.  And  if  even  they,  sinners,  bore 
witness  to  His  sinlessness,  how  much  more  did  His  own  soul !  and  we 
know  well  that  even  in  our  own  case,  sinners  as  we  are,  on  the  con- 
sciousness of  innocence  or  of  guilt  mainly  turns  our  power  of  enduring 
opposition  and  calumny ;  how  much  more,  you  will  say,  in  the  case  of 
our  Lord,  did  the  sense  of  inward  sanctity  compensate  for  the  suffering 
and  annihilate  the  shame!  Again,  you  may  say,  that  He  knew  that  His 
sufferings  would  be  short,  and  that  their  issue  would  be  joyful,  whereas 
uncertainty  of  the  future  is  the  keenest  element  of  human  distress ;  but 
He  could  not  have  anxiety,  for  He  was  not  in  suspense,  nor  despondency 
or  despair,  for  He  never  was  deserted.  And  in  confirmation  you  may 
refer  to  St.  Paul,  who  expressly  tells  us,  that  "  for  the  joy  set  before  Him," 
our  Lord  "  despised  the  shame."  And  certainly  there  is  a  marvellous 
calm  and  self-possession  in  all  He  does :  consider  His  warning  to  the 
Apostles,  "  Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation ;  the  spirit 
indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak";  or  His  words  to  Judas,  "  Friend, 
wherefore  art  thou  come?"  and  "  Judas,  betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  Man 
with  a  kiss?"  or  to  Peter,  "All  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  with  the 
sword";  or  to  the  man  who  struck  Him,  "If  I  have  spoken  evil,  bear 
witness  of  the  evil;  but  if  well,  why  smitest  thou  me?"  or  to  His 
Mother,  "  Woman,  behold  thy  Son." 

All  this  is  true  and  much  to  be  insisted  on  ;  but  it  quite  agrees  with, 
or  rather  illustrates,  what  I  have  been  observing.  My  brethren,  you  have 
only  said  (to  use  a  human  phrase)  that  He  was  always  Himself.  His 
mind  was  its  own  centre,  and  was  never  in  the  slightest  degree  thrown 
off  its  heavenly  and  most  perfect  balance.  What  He  suffered.  He 
suffered  because  He  put  Hirriself  under  suffering,  and  that  deliberately 
and  calmly.  As  He  said  to  the  leper,  "I  will,  be  thou  clean";  and  to 
the  paralytic,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  ";  and  to  the  centurion,  "  I  will 
come  and  heal  him  ";  and  of  Lazarus,  "  I  go  to  wake  him  out  of  sleep  "; 
so  He  said,  "  Now  I  will  begin  to  suffer,"  and  He  did  begin.  His  com- 
posure is  but  the  proof  how  entirely  He  governed  His  own  mind.     He 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  201 

drew  back,  at  the  proper  moment,  the  bolts  and  fastenings,  and  opened 
the  gates,  and  the  floods  fell  right  upon  His  soul  in  all  their  fulness. 
That  is  what  St.  Mark  tells  us  of  Him ;  and  he  is  said  to  have  written 
his  Gospel  from  the  very  mouth  of  St.  Peter,  who  was  one  of  three 
witnesses  present  at  the  time.  "  They  came,"  he  says,  "  to  the  place 
which  is  called  Gethsemani ;  and  He  saith  to  His  disciples.  Sit  you  here 
while  I  pray.  And  He  taketh  with  Him  Peter  and  James  and  John,  and 
He  began  to  be  frightened  and  to  be  very  heavy."  You  see  how  de- 
liberately He  acts ;  He  comes  to  a  certain  spot ;  and  then,  giving  the 
word  of  command,  and  withdrawing  the  support  of  the  Godhead  from 
His  soul,  distress,  terror,  and  dejection  at  once  rush  in  upon  it.  Thus  He 
walks  forth  into  a  mental  agony  with  as  definite  an  action  as  if  it  were 
some  bodily  torture,  the  fire  or  the  wheel. 

This  being  the  case,  you  will  see  at  once,  my  brethren,  that  it  is 
nothing  to  the  purpose  to  say  that  He  would  be  supported  under  His 
trial  by  the  consciousness  of  innocence  and  the  anticipation  of  triumph  ; 
for  His  trial  consisted  in  the  withdrawal,  as  of  other  causes  of  consolation, 
so  of  that  very  consciousness  and  anticipation.  The  same  act  of  the 
will  which  admitted  the  influence  upon  His  soul  of  any  distress  at 
all,  admitted  all  distresses  at  once.  It  was  not  the  contest  between 
antagonist  impulses  and  views,  coming  from  without,  but  the  operation 
of  an  inward  resolution.  As  men  of  self-command  can  turn  from  one 
thought  to  another  at  their  will,  so,  much  more,  did  He  deliberately  deny 
Himself  the  comfort,  and  satiate  Himself  with  the  woe.  In  that  moment 
His  soul  thought  not  of  the  future,  He  thought  only  of  the  present 
burden  which  was  upon  Him,  and  which  He  had  come  upon  earth  to 
sustain. 

And  no\v,  my  brethren,  what  was  it  He  had  to  bear,  when  He  thus 
opened  upon  His  soul  the  torrent  of  this  predestinated  pain  ?  Alas !  He 
had  to  bear  what  is  well  known  to  us,  what  is  familiar  to  us,  but  what  to 
Him  was  woe  unutterable.  He  had  to  bear,  that  which  is  so  easy  a  thing 
to  us,  so  natural,  so  welcome,  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  it  as  of  a  great 
endurance,  but  which  to  Him  had  the  scent  and  the  poison  of  death ; — 
He  had,  my  dear  brethren,  to  bear  the  weight  of  sin  ;  He  had  to  bear  your 
sins ;  He  had  to  bear  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  Sin  is  an  easy  thing 
to  us;  we  think  little  of  it;  we  do  not  understand  how  the  Creator  can 
think  much  of  it ;  we  cannot  bring  our  imagination  to  believe  that  it  de- 
serves retribution,  and,  when  even  in  this  world  punishments  follow  upon 
it,  we  explain  them  away  or  turn  our  minds  from  them.  But  consider 
what  sin  is  in  itself ;  it  is  rebellion  against  God  ;  it  is  a  traitor's  act  who 
aims  at  the  overthrow  and  death  of  his  Sovereign  ;  it  is  that,  if  I  may  use 
a  strong  expression,  which,  could  the  Divine  Governor  of  the  world  cease 


202  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

to  be,  would  be  sufficient  to  bring  it  about.  Sin  is  the  mortal  enemy  of 
the  AU-holy,  so  that  He  and  it  cannot  be  together ;  and  as  the  All-holy 
drives  it  from  His  presence  into  the  outer  darkness,  so,  if  God  could  be 
less  than  God,  it  is  sin  that  would  have  power  to  make  Him  less.  And 
here  observe,  my  brethren,  that  when  once  Almighty  Love,  by  taking 
flesh,  entered  this  created  system,  and  submitted  Himself  to  its  laws,  then 
forthwith  this  antagonist  of  good  and  truth,  taking  advantage  of  the 
opportunity,  flew  at  that  flesh,  which  He  had  taken,  and  fixed  on  it,  and 
was  its  death.  The  envy  of  the  Pharisees,  the  treachery  of  Judas,  and  the 
madness  of  the  people,  were  but  the  instrument  or  the  expression  of  the 
enmity  which  sin  felt  toward  Eternal  Purity,  eis  soon  as,  in  infinite  mercy 
toward  men,  He  put  Himself  within  its  reach.  Sin  could  not  touch  His 
Divine  Majesty  \  but  it  could  assail  Him  in  that  way  in  which  He  allowed 
Himself  to  be  assailed,  that  is,  through  the  medium  of  His  humanity. 
And  in  the  issue,  in  the  death  of  God  incarnate,  you  are  but  taught,  my 
brethren,  what  sin  is  in  itself,  and  what  it  was  which  then  was  falling,  in  its 
hour  and  in  its  strength,  upon  His  human  nature,  when  He  allowed  that 
nature  to  be  so  filled  with  horror  and  dismay  at  the  very  anticipation. 

There,  then,  in  that  most  awful  hour,  knelt  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
putting  off  the  defenses  of  His  divinity,  dismissing  His  reluctant  Angels, 
who  in  myriads  were  ready  at  His  call,  and  opening  His  arms,  baring  His 
breast,  sinless  as  He  was,  to  the  assault  of  His  foe, — of  a  foe  whose  breath 
was  a  pestilence,  and  whose  embrace  was  an  agony.  There  He  knelt, 
motionless  and  still,  while  the  vile  and  horrible  fiend  clad  His  spirit  in  a 
robe  steeped  in  all  that  is  hateful  and  heinous  in  human  crime,  which 
clung  close  round  His  heart,  and  filled  His  conscience,  and  found  its  way 
into  every  sense  and  pore  of  His  mind,  and  spread  over  Him  a  moral 
leprosy;  till  He  almost  felt  Himself  to  be  that  which  He  never  could  be, 
and  which  His  foe  would  fain  have  made  Him.  Oh,  the  horror,  when  He 
lookeds  and  did  not  know  Himself,  and  felt  as  a  foul  and  loathsome  sin- 
ner, from  His  vivid  perception  of  that  mass  of  corruption  which  poured 
over  His  head  and  ran  down  even  to  the  skirts  of  His  garments !  Oh, 
the  distraction,  when  He  found  His  eyes  and  hands,  and  feet,  and  lips, 
and  heartp  as  if  the  members  of  the  Evil  One,  and  not  of  God !  Are 
these  the  hands  of  the  Immaculate  Lamb  of  God,  once  innocent,  but 
now  red  with  ten  thousand  barbarous  deeds  of  blood?  are  these  His  lips, 
not  uttering  prayer,  and  praise,  and  holy  blessings,  but  as  if  defiled  with 
oaths,  and  blasphemies,  and  doctrines  of  devils  ?  or  His  eyes,  profaned 
as  they  are  by  all  the  evil  visions  and  idolatrous  fascinations  for  which 
men  have  abandoned  their  Adorable  Creator?  And  His  ears,  they  ring 
with  sounds  of  revelry  and  of  strife ;  and  His  heart  is  frozen  with  avarice, 
and  cruelty,  and  unbelief ;  and  His  very  memory  is  laden  with  every  sin 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN.  203 

which  has  been  committed  since  the  fall,  in  all  regions  of  the  earth,  with 
the  pride  of  the  old  giants,  and  the  lusts  of  the  five  cities,  and  the  obdu- 
racy of  Egypt,  and  the  ambition  of  Babel,  and  the  unthankfulness  and 
scorn  of  Israel.  Oh,  who  does  not  know  the  misery  of  a  haunting  thought 
which  comes  again  and  again,  in  spite  of  rejection,  to  annoy,  if  it  cannot 
seduce?  or  of  some  odious  and  sickening  imagination,  in  no  sense  one's 
own,  but  forced  upon  the  mind  from  without?  or  of  evil  knowledge, 
gained  with  or  without  a  man's  fault,  but  which  he  would  give  a  great 
price  to  be  rid  of  at  once  and  forever?  And  adversaries  such  as  these 
gather  around  Thee,  Blessed  Lord,  in  millions  now ;  they  come  in  troops 
more  numerous  than  the  locust  or  the  palmer-worm,  or  the  plagues  of  hail, 
and  flies,  and  frogs,  which  were  sent  against  Pharaoh.  Of  the  living  and  of 
the  dead  and  of  the  as  yet  unborn,  of  the  lost  and  of  the  saved,  of  Thy 
people  and  of  strangers,  of  sinners  and  of  Saints,  all  sins  are  there.  Thy 
dearest  are  there,  Thy  saints  and  Thy  chosen  are  upon  Thee,  Thy  three 
Apostles,  Peter,  James,  and  John  ;  but  not  as  comforters,  but  as  accusers, 
like  the  friends  of  Job,  "  sprinkling  dust  toward  heaven,"  and  heaping 
curses  on  Thy  head.  All  are  there  but  one ;  one  only  is  not  there,  one 
only ;  for  she,  who  had  no  part  in  sin,  she  only  could  console  Thee,  and 
therefore  she  is  not  nigh.  She  will  be  near  Thee  on  the  Cross,  she  is 
separated  from  Thee  in  the  garden.  She  has  been  Thy  companion  and 
Thy  confidant  through  Thy  life,  she  interchanged  with  Thee  the  pure 
thoughts  and  holy  meditations  of  thirty  years ;  but  her  virgin  ear  may 
not  take  in,  nor  may  her  immaculate  heart  conceive,  what  now  is  in 
vision  before  Thee.  None  was  equal  to  the  weight  but  God ;  sometimes 
before  Thy  Saints  Thou  hast  brought  the  image  of  a  single  sin,  as  it 
appears  in  the  light  of  Thy  countenance,  or  of  venial  sins,  not  mortal ; 
and  they  have  told  us  that  the  sight  did  all  but  kill  them,  nay,  would 
have  killed  them,  had  it  not  been  instantly  withdrawn.  The  Mother  of 
God,  for  all  her  sanctity,  nay,  by  reason  of  it,  could  not  have  borne  even 
one  brood  of  that  innumerable  progeny  of  Satan  which  now  compasses 
Thee  about.  It  is  the  long  history  of  a  world,  and  God  alone  can  bear 
the  load  of  it.  Hopes  blighted,  vows  broken,  lights  quenched,  warnings 
scorned,  opportunities  lost ;  the  innocent  betrayed,  the  young  hardened, 
the  penitent  relapsing,  the  just  overcome,  the  aged  failing;  the  sophistry 
of  misbelief,  the  wilfulness  of  passion,  the  obduracy  of  pride,  the  tyranny 
of  habit,  the  canker  of  remorse,  the  wasting  fever  of  care,  the  anguish  of 
shame,  the  pining  of  disappointment,  the  sickness  of  despair ;  such  cruel, 
such  pitiable  spectacles,  such  heart-rending,  revolting,  detestable,  maden- 
ning  scenes ;  nay,  the  haggard  faces,  the  convulsed  lips,  the  flushed  cheek, 
the  dark  brow  of  the  willing  slaves  of  evil,  they  are  all  before  Him  now  ; 
they  are  upon  Him  and  in  Him.     They  are  with  Him  instead  of  that 


204  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ineffable  peace  which  has  inhabited  His  soul  since  the  moment  of  His 
conception.  They  are  upon  Him,  they  are  all  but  His  own  ;  He  cries  to 
His  Father  as  if  He  were  the  criminal,  not  the  victim ;  His  agony  takes 
the  form  of  guilt  and  compunction.  He  is  doing  penance.  He  is  making 
confession,  He  is  exercising  contrition  with  a  reality  and  a  virtue  in- 
finitely greater  than  that  of  all  Saints  and  penitents  together ;  for  He  is 
the  One  Victim  for  us  all,  the  sole  Satisfaction,  the  real  Penitent,  all  but 
the  real  sinner. 

He  rises  languidly  from  the  earth,  and  turns  around  to  meet  the 
traitor  and  his  band,  now  quickly  nearing  the  deep  shade.  He  turns,  and 
lo !  there  is  blood  upon  His  garment,  and  in  His  footprints.  Whence 
come  these  first-fruits  of  the  passion  of  the  Lamb  ?  no  soldier's  scourge 
has  touched  His  shoulders,  nor  the  hangman's  nails  His  hands  and  feet. 
My  brethren.  He  has  bled  before  His  time;  He  has  shed  blood;  yes, 
and  it  is  His  agonizing  soul  which  has  broken  up  His  framework  of  flesh 
and  poured  it  forth.  His  passion  has  begun  from  within.  That  tor- 
mented Heart,  the  seat  of  tenderness  and  love,  began  at  length  to 
labor,  and  to  beat  with  vehemence  beyond  its  nature ;  ■ "  the  foundations 
of  the  great  deep  were  broken  .up  ";  the  red  streams  rushed  forth  so 
copious  and  fierce  as  to  overflow  the  veins,  and  bursting  through  the 
pores,  they  stood  in  a  thick  dew  over  His  whole  skin;  then  forming  into 
drops,  they  rolled  down  full  and  heavy,  and  drenched  the  ground. 

"  My  soul  is  sorrowful  even  unto  death,"  He  said.  It  has  been  said 
of  that  dreadful  pestilence  which  now  is  upon  us,  that  it  begins  with 
death ;  by  which  is  meant  that  it  has  no  stage  or  crisis,  that  hope  is  over 
when  it  comes,  and  that  what  looks  like  its  course  is  but  the  death  agony 
and  the  process  of  dissolution  ;  and  thus  our  Atoning  Sacrifice,  in  a 
much  higher  sense,  began  with  this  passion  of  woe,  and  only  did  not  die, 
because  at  His  Omnipotent  will  His  Heart  did  not  break,  nor  Soul  sepa- 
rate from  Body,  till  He  had  suffered  on  the  Cross. 

No ;  He  has  not  yet  exhausted  that  full  chalice,  from  which  at  first 
His  natural  infirmity  shrank.  The  seizure  and  the  arraignment,  and  the 
buffeting,  and  the  prison,  and  the  trial,  and  the  mocking,  and  the  passing 
to  and  fro,  and  the  scourging,  and  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  the  slow 
march  to  Calvary,  and  the  crucifixion,  these  are  all  to  come.  A  night 
and  a  day,  hour  after  hour,  is  slowly  to  run  out  before  the  end  comes, 
and  the  Satisfaction  is  completed. 

And  then,  when  the  appointed  moment  arrived,  and  He  gave  the 
word,  as  His  passion  had  begun  with  His  soul,  with  the  soul  did  it  end. 
He  did  not  die  of  bodily  exhaustion,  or  of  bodily  pain ;  at  His  will  His 
tormented  Heart  broke,  and  he  commended  His  Spirit  to  the  Father. 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 


205 


"  O  Heart  of  Jesus,  all  Love,  I  offer  Thee  these  humble  prayers  for 
myself,  and  for  all  those  who  unite  themselves  with  me  in  spirit  to  adore 
Thee.  O  holiest  Heart  of  Jesus  most  lovely,  I  intend  to  renew  and  to 
offer  to  Thee  these  acts  of  adoration  and  these  prayers,  for  myself  a 
wretched  sinner,  and  for  all  those  who  are  associated  with  me  in  Thy 
adoration,  through  all  moments  while  I  breathe,  even  to  the  end  of  my 
life.  I  recommend  to  Thee,  O  my  Jesus,  Holy  Church,  Thy  dear  spouse, 
and  our  true  Mother,  all  just  souls  and  all  poor  sinners,  the  afflicted,  the 
dying,  and  all  mankind.  Let  not  Thy  Blood  be  shed  for  them  in  vain. 
Finally,  deign  to  apply  it  in  relief  of  the  souls  in  Purgatory,  of  those  in 
particular,  who  have  practiced  in  the  course  of  their  life  this  holy  devotion 
of  adoring  Thee." 


CARDINAL   MANNING. 


Cardinal  Henry  Edward  Manning  was  born  in  England  in  1808.  In 
the  year  185 1  he  resigned  preferment  in  the  Anglican  Church,  and  became 
a  Catholic.  In  1857  His  Eminence  was  ordained  priest,  and  in  the  year 
1865  he  was  elevated  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Westminster,  and  in  1874 
founded  the  Roman  Catholic  Kensington  University.  In  (875  he  was 
created  Cardinal.  His  Eminence  took  active  part  in  the  Vat!.  :an  Council, 
defending  the  infallibility  dogma. 


(«07) 


CA^PQf^AL    ^A^¥imB. 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  INTELLECT  AGAINST  GOD. 

"  But  yet  the  Son  of  Man,  when  He  cometh,  shall  He  find,  think  you,  faith  on 

earth  ?  "—St.  Luke  xviii.  8. 

I Y  this  question  our  Divine  Lord  intends  us  to  understand  that, 
when  He  comes,  He  shall  find  many  who  do  not  believe, 
many  who  have  fallen  from  the  faith.  It  foretells  that  there 
shall  be  apostasies;  and  if  apostasies,  therefore  that  He  shall 
still  find  the  truth ;  but  He  will  find  also  those  that  have  fallen  from  it. 
And  this  is  what  the  Holy  Ghost,  speaking  by  the  Apostle,  has  distinctly 
prophesied.  St.  Paul  says,  "  Now  the  Spirit  manifestly  saith  that,  in  the 
last  times,  some  shall  depart  from  the  faith,  giving  heed  to  spirits  of 
error,  and  doctrines  of  devils."  And  again,  St.  John  says,  "  Little  children, 
it  is  the  last  hour ;  and  as  you  have  heard  that  Antichrist  cometh,  even 
now  there  are  become  many  Antichrists,  whereby  we  know  that  it  is  the 
last  hour."  The  meaning  therefore  of  our  Lord  is  this :  not  that  when 
He  comes  He  will  not  find  the  Church  He  founded  in  all  the  plenitude 
of  its  power,  and  the  faith  He  revealed  in  all  the  fulness  of  its  doctrine. 
*'  The  city  seated  upon  the  hill  cannot  be  hid."  The  Holy  Catholic 
Church  is  the  "  light  of  the  world,"  and  so  shall  be  to  the  end.  It  can 
never  be  separated  from  its  Divine  Head  in  heaven.  The  Spirit  of 
Truth,  who  came  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  according  to  our  Divine 
Lord's  promise,  will  abide  with  it  forever :  therefore  when  the  Son  of 
God  shall  come  at  the  end  of  the  world,  there  shall  be  His  Church  as  in 
the  beginning,  in  the  amplitude  of  its  Divine  authority,  in  the  fulness  of 
its  Divine  faith,  and  the  immutability  of  its  teaching.  He  will  find  then 
the  light  shining  in  vain  in  the  midst  of  many  who  will  be  willingly 
blind ;  the  teacher  in  the  midst  of  multitudes,  of  whom  many  will  be 
willingly  deaf:  they  will  have  eyes,  and  see  not ;  and  ears,  and  hear  not ; 
and  hearts  that  will  not  understand.  As  it  was  at  His  first  coming,  so 
shall  it  be  at  His  second.  This,  then,  is  the  plain  meaning  of  our  Lord's 
words. 

And  now,  before  I  enter  upon  this  subject,  I  wish  to  say  a  word  of  a 
superstition  which,  strange  to  say,  pervades  those  who  are  willing  to  be- 
lieve but  little  else.  For  in  its  incredulity  the  human  mind  is  liable  to  fall 
into  the  greatest  of  all  credulities;  and  one  credulous  superstition  of 

(209) 


210  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

these  days  is  this :  That  faith  and  reason  are  at  variance ;  that  the 
human  reason,  by  submitting  itself  to  faith,  becomes  dwarfed ;  that 
faith  interferes  with  the  rights  of  reason  ;  that  it  is  a  violation  of  its  pre- 
rogatives, and  a  diminution  of  its  perfection.  Now  I  call  this  a  pure 
superstition  ;  and  those  who  pride  themselves  upon  being  men  of  illumin- 
ation and  of  high  intellect,  or,  as  we  have  heard  lately,  in  the  language 
of  modern  Gnosticism,  "  men  of  culture,"  are,  after  all,  both  credulous  and 
superstitious. 

God,  who  is  the  perfect  and  infinite  intelligence — that  is,  the  infinite 
and  perfect  reason — created  man  to  His  own  likeness,  and  gave  him  a 
reasonable  intelligence,  like  His  own.  As  the  face  in  the  mirror  answers- 
to  the  face  of  the  beholder,  so  the  intelligence  of  man  answers  to  the  in- 
telligence of  God.  It  is  His  own  likeness.  What,  then,  is  the  revelation 
of  faith,  but  the  illumination  of  the  Divine  reason  poured  out  upon  the 
reason  of  man  ?  The  revelation  of  faith  is  no  discovery  which  the  reason 
of  man  has  made  for  himself  by  induction,  or  by  deduction,  or  by- 
analysis,  or  by  synthesis,  or  by  logical  process,  or  by  experimental 
chemistry'.  The  revelation  of  faith  is  a  discovery  of  itself  by  the  Divine 
Reason,  the  unveiling  of  the  Divine  Intelligence,  and  the  illumination 
flowing  from  it  cast  upon  the  intelligence  of  man ;  and  if  so,  I  would 
ask,  how  can  there  be  variance  or  discord  ?  How  can  the  illumination 
of  the  faith  diminish  the  stature  of  the  human  reason  ?  How  can  its 
rights  be  interfered  with  ?  How  can  its  prerogatives  be  violated  ?  Is 
not  the  truth  the  very  reverse  of  all  this  ?  Is  it  not  the  fact  that  the 
human  reason  is  perfected  and  elevated  above  itself  by  the  illumination 
of  faith  ? 

There  have  been  three  periods  of  the  human  reason  in  the  history  of 
mankind.  The  first  period  was  when  the  reason  of  man  wandered  alone, 
without  revelation,  as  we  see  in  the  heathen  world,  and  most  especially 
in  the  two  most  cultivated  races  of  the  heathen  world ;  I  mean  the  Greek 
and  the  Roman.  The  second  period  was  that  in  which  the  human  reason, 
receiving  the  light  of  revelation,  walked  under  the  guidance  of  faith ; 
that  is  to  say,  by  the  revelation  of  God  of  old  to  His  prophets,  and  hy 
His  revelation  through  the  incarnation  of  His  Son  in  Christianity. 
Lastly,  there  is  a  period  setting  in — not  for  the  whole  world,  not  for  the 
Church  of  God,  but  for  individuals,  races,  and  nations — of  a  departure 
from  faith,  in  which  the  human  reason  will  have  to  wander  once  more 
alone,  without  guide  or  certainty ;  not  indeed  as  it  did  before,  but,  as  I 
shall  be  compelled  hereafter  to  show,  in  a  worse  state,  in  a  state  which  is, 
in  truth,  a  dwarfing  and  a  degradation  of  the  human  intelligence. 

The  first  state,  then,  in  which  the  reason  of  man  wandered  without 
revelation  was  the  state  of  the  heathen  world.     They  had  no  knowledge 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  211 

of  God,  except  by  an  obscured  tradition,  which  came  dimly  from  the  be- 
ginning. But  the  condition  of  the  human  reason  under  faith  is  an  ele- 
vated and  a  nobler  state.  No  man  can  read  the  Old  Testament — the 
Book  of  Psalms,  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  to  say  nothing  of  the  prophetical 
books  of  the  Old  Testament — without  perceiving  at  once  that,  in  the 
most  elaborate  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome,  there  is  nothing  which, 
for  intellectual  elevation,  refinement,  and  power,  is  comparable  with 
them.  When  we  come  on  to  the  period  of  Christianity,  I  may  say,  in  one 
word,  that  the  history  of  the  progress  and  the  perfection  of  the  human 
intellect  is  the  history  of  Christianity  itself ;  and  that  Christianity  has 
elevated,  cultivated,  developed,  invigorated,  and  perfected  the  human  in- 
tellect. Apart  from  all  hopes  of  eternal  life,  and  in  its  mere  effect  on 
this  world,  upon  man  as  man,  as  a  rational  being,  faith  has  been  his  ele- 
vation. Lastly,  we  come  to  that  period  of  which  it  is  my  purpose  now 
to  speak.  St.  Paul,  writing  to  the  Thessalonians,  says:  "Be  not  easily 
moved  from  your  mind,  nor  be  frighted,  neither  by  spirit,  nor  by  word, 
nor  by  epistle,  as  sent  from  us,  as  if  the  day  of  the  Lord  were  at  hand  "; 
because,  he  says,  that  it  shall  not  come  "  unless  there  come  a  revolt  first, 
and  the  man  of  sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of  perdition,  who  opposeth,  and 
is  lifted  up  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or  that  is  worshipped." 

Now,  I  am  not  going  to  enter  into  the  question  of  when  that  day  will 
come ;  that  is  not  a  part  of  the  message  committed  to  me.  Neither  am 
I  going  to  enter  into  an  exposition  of  unfulfilled  prophecies  about  the 
man  of  sin.  But  out  of  this  epistle  I  take  one  word  and  one  idea.  Be- 
fore that  day  comes  there  shall  be  "  a  revolt."  Now,  a  revolt  means  a  re- 
bellion, a  rising,  a  casting-off  of  obedience,  and  the  erection  of  a  self-con- 
stituted authority  in  its  place.  I  will  try  to  bring  before  you  the  signs 
and  marks  of  this  rising  or  revolt  of  the  intellect  of  men  that  were  once 
Christians,  and  to  show  that  the  intelligence  of  Christian  nations  has,  in 
these  last  ages,  begun  to  manifest  the  phenomena  and  signs  of  a  de- 
parture from  faith,  which,  though  it  can  in  no  way  affect  the  immutability, 
stability,  and  imperishable  certainty  of  the  revelation  of  truth,  any  more 
than  blindness  can  cloud  the  sun  at  noonday,  nevei(|lieless  shows  that 
there  is  a  current  carrying  the  minds  of  men  away  from  faith  in  Christ 
and  in  God  into  the  darkness  of  unbelief. 

I.  First  of  all,  there  exists  at  this  day,  and  there  has  existed  for  two 
centuries,  a  certain  number  of  men — few  indeed — who  profess  .themselves 
to  be  Atheists,  or  not  to  believe  the  existence  of  God.  I  am  sorry  to 
say  we  have  among  us  a  certain  number  of  such  men  who,  by  their 
speeches  and  writings,  profess  this,  which  I  must  call  not  only  a  blas- 
phemous, but  a  stupid  impiety.  I  call  it  stupid  for  this  reason.  A  man 
whom  Englishmen  are  fond  of  calling  the  greatest  philosophical  intellect 


.212  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

that  England  ever  produced,  in  one  of  his  essays  has  used  these  words. 
Quoting  the  Book  of  Psalms,  he  says,  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart, 
There  is  no  God."  It  is  not  said,  "  The  fool  hath  thought  in  his  heart  ": 
that  is,  the  fool  did  say  so  in  his  heart,  because  he  hoped  there  might  be 
no  God.  He  did  not  say  it  in  his  head,  because  he  knew  better.  And 
this  explanation  is  exactly  what  the  Apostle  has  written,  speaking  of  the 
ancient  world:  "The  invisible  things  of  Him,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made : 
His  eternal  power  also  and  divinity  :  so  that  they  "  (that  is,  the  nations 
who  know  not  God)  "  are  inexcusable  ";  "  for,  professing  themselves  to 
be  wise,  they  became  fools."  And  he  goes  on  to  explain  the  reason  of 
it ;  "  as  they  liked  not  to  have  God  in  their  knowledge  ":  they  had  no 
love,  no  liking  for  Him  ;  there  was  no  moral  sympathy  with  His  perfec- 
tions of  purity,  justice,  mercy,  sanctity,  and  truth.  These  things  were 
out  of  harmony  with  their  degraded  nature;  and  because  they  had  no 
love  to  retain  this  knowledge  of  a  pure  and  holy  God,  therefore  their  in- 
tellects were  darkened.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  even  these,  who 
not  knowing  God,  and  not  glorifying  Him  as  God,  worshipped  and 
served  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator,  these  were  not  Atheists.  So 
far  from  it,  they  were  Polytheists :  they  believed  in  a  multitude  of  gods. 
So  profoundly  rooted  in  human  nature  was  a  belief  in  God,  that  when 
they  lost  the  knowledge  of  the  one  only  true  God,  they  multiplied  for 
themselves  a  number  of  false  gods.  The  human  mind  was  incapable  of 
conceiving  the  perfection  of  the  one  only  true  God,  and  it  divided  the 
Divine  idea  into  a  multitude  of  gods.;  but  it  was  so  profusely  and  in- 
stinctively filled  with  the  notion  of  the  existence  of  God,  that  it  multi- 
plied God,  instead  of  rejecting  His  existence.  The  heathen  world,  there- 
fore, is  a  witness  and  a  testimony  to  the  existence  of  God.  It  became 
superstitious,  credulous,  anything  you  will,  but  atheistic  it  could  not  be. 
Nay,  more  than  this :  even  the  learned  men,  the  more  refined  and 
the  more  cultivated,  they  also  did  not  reject  the  notion  of  God ;  they  be- 
came Pantheists,  that  is  to  say,  they  invested  everything  with  divinity. 
The  thought  of ^od  was  so  kindred  to  their  nature,  it  had.  such  a  re- 
sponse in  them,  their  intellect  and  their  conscience  testified  with  such 
constant  accord  to  the  reasonableness  of  believing  in  God,  or  in  gods, 
that  they  invested  all  things  round  about  them  with  a  participation  in 
the  Divine  nature.  How,  then,  has  it  come  to  pass  that  men,  in  these 
last  times,  after  receiving  the  illumination  of  the  Faith,  and  knowing 
''•the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  He  has  sent,"  knowing  Him 
in  His  perfections,  in  His  attributes,  and  by  His  works  and  grace, — that 
they  should  have  fallen  lower,  I  must  say,  than  even  the  heathen  world, 
that  they  should  have  come  to  deny  the  very  existence  of  God  ? 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  213 

They  are,  indeed,  few  in  number ;  but,  nevertheless,  they  are  active 
and  full  of  zeal  to  propagate  their  opinions.  In  France  there  exists  a 
school  of  Atheism  which  has  a  few  disciples  also  in  England ;  I  mean  the 
Positivist  school  of  philosophy.  The  founder  of  it,  Comte,  taught  that 
the  human  intellect  has  three  periods:  the  first  is  the  period  of  child- 
hood, the  second  is  the  period  of  youth,  and  the  third  the  period  of  man- 
hood. Now  it  says  the  period  of  childhood  is  the  theological  period,  in 
which  the  human  reason  believes  in  gods  or  in  God.  The  second  period 
of  the  human  reason  is  that  which  the  founder  of  this  school  of  philos- 
ophy calls  the  metaphysical  period  ;  and  here  is  a  refinement  well  worthy 
of  note.  He  says,  when  men  are  men,  they  give  up  the  superstition  of 
believing  in  God ;  nevertheless,  they  fall  into  the  superstition  of  believ- 
ing in  cause  and  effect,  in  law  and  principle,  that  is,  in  the  metaphysical 
conceptions  which  are  intrinsic  through  the  inevitable  action  of  the 
human  reason.  He  treats  these  as  superstitions.  As  the  belief  in  God 
was  a  theological  superstition,  so  the  belief  in  cause  and  effect,  and  con- 
sequence, and  principle,  and  law — all  this  is  a  metaphysical  supersti- 
tion. Well,  the  third  state  of  the  human  reason,  which  is  the  perfect 
state  of  manhood,  in  what  does  it  consist  ?  In  believing  that  which 
we  can  see,  feel,  touch,  handle,  test,  weigh,  measure,  or  analyze  by 
chemistry.  We  may  test  the  facts,  but  we  must  not  connect  them 
together.  We  must  not  say  that  one  thing  follows  after  another  by 
a  law,  or  is  caused  by  it.  An  explosion  of  fire-damp  is  not  caused  by 
the  candle  being  carried  into  the  pit ;  it  follows  after  the  carrying  of  it 
into  the  pit,  but  it  is  a  metaphysical  superstition  to  believe  that  it  is 
caused  by  it.  This  is  what  is  called  the  scientific  state  of  the  human 
mind.  And  this  scientific  state  of  the  human  mind  is  when,  having 
pushed  over  the  horizon  and  out  of  sight  the  idea  of  God,  the  idea  of 
cause  and  effect,  of  law  and  principle,  and  all  mental  philosophy,  we  are 
reduced  to  this — that  we  may  count  and  number  and  distinguish  the 
things  we  see  as  phenomena  and  facts,  but  we  must  not  connect  them  to- 
gether, we  must  not  form  conceptions  as  to  why  they  follow  one  upon  an- 
other. And  this  is  Science,  the  perfection  of  human  reason !  The 
immediate  result  of  this,  of  necessity,  is  Atheism.  I  would  ask,  Is  this 
the  elevation  of  the  human  reason  ?  Does  this  Philosophy  dignify,  or 
perfect,  or  exalt,  or  unfold  it,  or  confer  upon  it  knowledge  greater  than  it 
had  before?  If  there  can  be  anything  which  dwarfs,  and  stunts,  and 
diminishes,  and  distorts  the  human  reason,  it  is  this.  Atheism,  then,  is 
a  lower  abasement  of  the  intellect  than  was  ever  reached  by  the  heathen 
world.  More  than  this,  it  is  a  degradation  and  distortion  of  the  human 
intelligence ;  and  in  proportion  as  the  human  intelligence  departs  from 
the  knowledge  of  God,  in  that  same  degree  it  departs  from  its  own  per. 


214  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

fection.  Nevertheless,  this  school  does  exist  among  us ;  and  this  is  the 
first  form,  or  rather  the  worst  form,  of  the  revolt  of  the  intellect,  because 
it  is  the  revolt  of  the  intellect  from  God  altogether,  from  His  existence, 
and  from  all  that  He  has  made  known  to  us  by  the  light  of  revelation, 
and  even  from  that  which  He  has  made  known  to  us  by  the  light  of 
nature,  which  is  the  light  of  reason. 

2.  Secondly,  there  is  another  and  a  modified  form  of  this  revolt. 
There  are  men  (and  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  are  more  numerous  than  the 
last)  who,  though  they  do  not  reject  the  existence  of  God,  do  neverthe- 
less reject  the  knowledge  of  God ;  that  is,  they  profess  to  believe  in  a 
God,  because  they  see  with  all  mankind  (except  a  few  who  are  isolated 
and  abnormal)  that  the  light  of  reason,  the  light  of  nature  itself,  obliges  a 
man  to  believe  in  a  first  cause,  and  that  this  first  cause  must  be  a  personal 
cause,  an  intelligence,  and  a  will.  "To  doubt  of  this  is,  as  I  said  before,  to 
be  an  anomaly  in  the  rational  order  of  man.  But,  while  these  men  be- 
lieve in  a  God  of  nature,  nevertheless  they  reject  the  revelation  which  He 
has  given  them  of  Himself.  And  how  did  they  come  to  this  state?  Not 
all  at  once.  They  came  by  progressive  stages ;  and  I  protest  that,  in 
what  I  am  about  to  say,  I  say  it  in  a  sorrow  which  I  cannot  put  in  words, 
still  more,  without  the  least  tinge  of  controversy ;  because  the  longer  I 
live,  and  the  more  I  see  of  the  state  of  our  own  country,  the  less  am  I 
disposed  to  utter  one  word  which  can  make  wider  the  unhappy  divisions 
which  exist  among  those  who  still  believe  in  Christianity  as  a  Divine 
revelation.  Nevertheless,  I  must  tell  the  truth.  The  first  cause  of  Ra- 
tionalism (that  is,  the  rejection  of  Christianity  in  the  present  day)  was 
the  rejection  of  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  three 
hundred  years  ago ;  and  that  by  a  law  of  production  so  legitimate,  by  an 
intellectual  law  so  certain,  that,  I  think,  any  one  who  would  give  himself 
sufficient  time  and  apply  sufficient  industry  to  follow  the  history  of  unbe- 
lief in  the  last  three  hundred  years  would  see  it  to  demonstration.  When, 
three  hundred  years  back,  certain  nations  in  the  north  and  west  of  Eu- 
rope had  rejected  the  authority  of  the  Church  as  a  Divine  teacher,  they 
immediately  began  to  examine  the  human  evidences  upon  which  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity  reposed.  Christianity  can  only  rest  either  upon 
a  Divine  authority — that  is,  a  Divine  basis  of  certainty — or  upon  a 
human  and  historical  basis.  Having  rejected  the  Divine  authority,  or 
the  Divine  basis,  they  had  nothing  left  to  them  but  the  human  and  his- 
torical basis ;  and  that  human  and  historical  basis  was  the  history  of 
Christianity  as  found  in  the  inspired  books  of  Holy  Scripture  and  in  the 
works  of  uninspired  writers.  They  began  to  apply  human  reason  to 
criticise,  to  test,  to  measure  the  credibility,  both  extrinsic  and  intrinsic, 
of  every  article  of  the  Faith.     I  say,  first,  the  extrinsic  credibility ;  that 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  216 

is,  whether  it  could  be  historically  proved  that  this  or  that  doctrine  was 
believed  in  the  beginning  and  has  been  believed  ever  since  ;  secondly,  the 
intrinsic  credibility :  that  is  to  say,  whether  this  or  that  doctrine  was  in 
itself  reconcilable  with  the  human  reason.  And  applying  this  critical 
test,  they  rejected  doctrine  after  doctrine.  We  all  know  how  many 
fragmentary  Christianities  sprung  from  what  was  called  the  Reforma- 
tion, differing  from  each  other ;  the  German  form  of  the  Reforma- 
tion differing  from  the  English,  the  EngHsh  differing  from  the  Scotch, 
and  the  Swiss  from  both.  These  fragmentary  Christianities  were  so 
many  exhibitions  of  the  criticism  of  the  human  reason  working  out  for 
itself  what  seemed  to  be  credible  or  probable  as  to  the  original  revelation 
•of  God. 

It  was  not  difificult  to  foresee  that  one  man  would  go  farther  than  an- 
other, that  one  would  reject  more  than  another  ;  and  that  one  man  would 
begin  early  in  life  believing  a  great  deal  more  than  he  believed  at  the  end 
of  it,  and  therefore  that  all  things  would  be  in  a  perpetual  flux  of  muta- 
tion and  uncertainty;  so  that  for  three  hundred  years  the  amount  of 
Christianity  that  has  been  believed  on  this  human  and  critical  basis  has 
been  perpetually  diminishing,  and  the  residuum  which  is  left  upon  that 
foundation  now  is  incalculably  less  than  that  with  which  men  started  three 
hundred  years  ago.  I  hardly  like  to  go  into  positive  proofs  of  this,  for 
fear  of  wounding  where  I  desire  to  leave  no  wound ;  but  it  is  only  this 
last  week  when,  in  one  of  the  highest  places  of  this  realm,  evidence  was 
■quoted  from  a  most  unsuspicious  and  impartial  correspondent,  writing 
from  Germany,  who  declared  the  state  of  religious  belief  in  that  country 
to  be  such  that  neither  Rome  nor  Luther  would  recognize  it  as  Christian- 
ity. And  yet  that  was  a  country  in  which,  only  three  hundred  years  ago, 
before  the  intellectual  revolt  against  the  Divine  authority  of  Faith  arose, 
-Christianity  was  once  perfect.  Of  England,  I  had  rather  not  speak  at 
all.  I  pray  every  day  of  my  life  for  England.  I  never  say  the  Holy 
Mass  without  praying  earnestly  that  light  may  be  poured  out  over  England, 
and  that  the  eyes  of  men  may  be  purged  of  their  film,  to  see  that  they  are 
contending  one  with  another  to  the  destruction  of  their  common  inherit- 
ance; and  that  we  may  one  day  be  all  united  again,  in  the  unity  of  the 
•only  Faith  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  This  is  my  prayer,  and  I  desire  most  earnest- 
ly to  refrain  from  saying  a  word  which  can  cause  the  least  estrangement 
in  any  one  who  hears  me. 

But  is  it  not  undeniable  that  at  this  moment  Christianity  in  England 
is  being  undermined?  Is  it  not  certain  that  Rationalism  in  every  form, 
•whether  speculative  and  cultivated,  or  gross  and  vulgar,  is,  in  ever>'  gen- 
eration that  passes,  expanding  and  establishing  itself  more  widely  among 
the  people  of  England  ?     Moreover,  I  am  old  enough  to  know  that,  forty 


216  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

years  ago,  men  believed  more  than  they  believe  now,  that  doctrines  were 
then  held  as  indisputable  which  are  now  openly  disputed. 

The  rejection  of  the  Divine  authority  necessarily  throws  men  upon 
the  only  alternative — human  criticism  applied  to  Scripture,  to  antiquity, 
to  Fathers,  to  history,  to  Councils,  and  to  the  acts  of  the  Holy  See. 
There  is  nothing  on  the  face  of  the  earth  which  the  human  reason  does 
not  claim  to  subject  to  itself,  to  sit  in  judgment  upon,  to  test  as  if  it  were 
the  creation  of  man,  to  decide  its  credibility  as  if  man  were  the  measure 
of  truth,  to  pronounce  upon  whether  it  be  Divine  or  not.  The  result  of 
this  anarchy  of  criticism  is,  that  multitudes  of  men  have  rejected  Chris- 
tianity altogether :  men,  whom  but  a  few  years  ago  I  knew  firmly  to  be- 
lieve in  Christianity,  are  now,  to  my  certain  knowledge.  Rationalists. 
They  now  believe  nothing  of  Christianity,  because,  having  applied  the 
false  principle  of  human  criticism  to  the  matter  of  Divine  revelation, 
they  have  logically  and  consistently  carried  out  the  application  of  a  false 
premise,  to  the  destruction  of  Christianity  altogether.  The  premise  is 
false,  its  result  is  logical. 

Let  us  now  apply  to  this  subject  the  teaching  of  the  Syllabus.  Two 
of  the  errors  condemned  in  it  are — 

1st.  "That  the  human  reason,  without  any  regard  to  the  revelation  of 
God,  is  the  sole  and  suflficient  judge  of  truth  and  of  falsehood,  of  right 
and  of  wrong,  and  is  a  law  of  itself  and  in  itself,  sufficient  for  the  welfare 
of  individuals  and  of  States." 

2d.  "  That  the  human  reason  is  the  source  of  all  the  truths  of  relig- 
ion." 

In  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  there  was  a  book  written,  called 
"  Christianity  as  old  as  the  Creation."  I  need  not  tell  you  that  that  book 
contained  no  Christianity.  It  denied  all  supernatural  revelation,  and  pro- 
fessed to  show  that  all  truth  was  in  the  natural  reason  of  man.  If  we 
should  desire  to  see  the  fruit  of  these  principles,  we  may  go  back  to  the 
end  of  the  last  century.  See  what  Paris  was  in  the  year  1793  ;  see  what 
Paris  is  again  in  the  year  1871.  Tell  me  whether  the  human  reason, 
without  Christianity,  is  a  law  of  itself,  and  the  sole  judge  of  truth  and 
falsehood,  and  of  right  and  wrong,  and  sufficient  for  the  welfare  of  indi- 
viduals and  of  States.  It  was  only  yesterday  I  read  in  a  public  dispatch 
from  Paris,  that  the  Commune  had  decreed  that  all  religious  teaching 
should  cease  in  the  schools.  We  know  that  the  churches,  which  a  short 
time  ago  were  employed  for  sacred  uses,  are  now  political  clubs,  in  which,  in 
the  course  of  the  last  ten  days,  death  was  unanimously  voted  to  the  chief 
pastor  of  that  Christian  city.  These  are  the  fruits  of  the  rejection  of 
Christianity.  Such,  then,  is  the  second  step  in  the  revolt  of  the  intellect 
— the  revolt  which  begins  with  the  rejection  of  the  Divine  authority  of 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  217 

the  Church  of  God,  and  then  goes  on  to  reject  evidences,  next  to  reject 
doctrines,  and  lastly  to  reject  Christianity. 

3.  The  third  kind  of  intellectual  revolt,  and  it  is  the  last  of  which  I 
will  speak,  in  respect  to  those  who  are  without,  is  a  form  of  false  philoso- 
phy, which  in  the  Syllabus  is  described  as  "  moderate  "  Rationalism,  as 
compared  with  that  of  which  we  have  been  hitherto  speaking,  which  is 
there  called  "absolute"  Rationalism.  Now  the  moderate  Rationalism 
consists  in  this  :  in  the  retaining  a  belief  of  Christianity,  or  the  professing 
to  believe  it ;  but  the  believing  of  it  only  so  much  as,  upon  private  criti- 
cism and  its  own  judgment,  the  individual  mind  is  disposed  to  retain. 
But  is  it  not  obvious  at  once  that  the  human  reason  can  only  stand  re- 
lated to  the  revelation  of  God,  either  as  a  critic,  or  as  a  disciple  in  the 
presence  of  a  Divine  Teacher?  The  moment  the  human  reason  begins 
to  criticise,  to  test,  to  examine,  to  retain,  or  to  reject,  it  has  ceased  to  be 
a  disciple  ;  it  has  become  the  critic  ;  it  has  ceased  to  be  the  learner,  it  has 
become  the  judge ;  and  yet  find  me,  if  you  can,  any  middle  point  where 
the  reason  of  man  can  stand  between  the  two  extremes  of  submitting  to 
the  Divine  authority  of  faith  as  a  disciple,  and  of  criticising  the  whole 
revelation  of  God  as  a  judge.  There  is  nothing  between  the  two.  Now 
this  kind  of  intellectual  revolt  (I  must  call  it  by  a  hard  name,  but  it  is  an 
old  one,  and  used  by  the  Apostles)  is  heresy.  What  is  the  meaning  of 
heresy?  It  means  the  choosing  for  ourselves,  as  contra-distinguished 
from  the  receiving  with  docility  from  the  lips  of  a  teacher — the  choosing 
for  ourselves  what  we  will  believe  and  how  much  we  will  believe.  St. 
James  says,  "  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  but  offend  in  one 
point,  is  become  guilty  of  all ";  and  that,  for  this  reason :  He  that  said. 
Thou  shalt  not  kill,  said  also.  Thou  shalt  not  steal ;  but  if  I  steal  my 
neighbor's  goods  without  taking  his  life,  I  violate  the  Divine  authority 
which  runs  through  both  the  commandments.  In  the  same  way,  he  who 
shall  believe  all  the  articles  of  faith,  and  yet  reject  one  of  them,  in  that 
rejection  rejects  the  whole  Divine  authority  upon  which  all  the  articles  of 
faith  alike  depend.  This  spirit  of  criticism  begins,  as  I  said  before,  in  the 
rejection  of  the  principle  of  Divine  authority  and  the  adoption  of  private 
judgment,  which  is  essentially,  though  at  first  covertly,  a  violation  of  th^t 
Divine  authority.  The  human  reason  thereby  unconsciously  assumes  to 
itself  to  be  the  test  and  the  measure  of  that  which  is  to  be  believed.  For 
instance ;  in  interpreting  Holy  Scripture,  if  I  interpret  the  Book  accord- 
ing to  the  light  of  my  individual  judgment,  the  interpretation  that  I  at- 
tach to  it  is  my  own.  The  text  may  be  Divine,  but  the  interpretation  is  hu- 
man. And  this  must  be,  wheresoever  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Church 
is  not  recognized  as  a  principle  of  faith.  You  know  how  the  rejection  of 
this  Divine  authority  has  shattered  the  unity  of  faith  in  England.     I  say 


218  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

this,  as  I  said  before,  with  sorrow.  I  do  not  charge  all  those  who  are  out 
of  the  unity  of  the  Catholic  faith  with  heresy.  The  English  people  are  in- 
deed in  heresy,  but  I  do  not  call  them  heretics.  God  forbid !  They  were 
born  into  that  state  of  privation.  They  found  themselves  disinherited. 
They  have  never  known  their  rightful  inheritance.  They  have  grown  up, 
believing  what  has  been  set  before  them  by  parents  and  by  teachers ; 
their  state  of  privation  has  been  caused  by  the  sin  of  others  three  hundred 
years  ago,  and  by  no  act  of  rejection  of  their  own.  The  millions  of  our 
people,  the  children,  the  unlearned,  the  simple,  the  docile,  the  humble, 
the  wives  and  mothers  and  daughters,  the  great  multitude  who  live  lives 
of  prayer  and  of  charity  and  of  mutual  kindness,  who  never  had  the  op- 
portunity of  knowing  the  truth — to  call  them  heretics  would  be  to  wound 
charity.  They  have  never  made  a  perverse  election  against  the  truth ; 
and  I  heartily  believe  that  millions  of  them,  if  the  light  of  the  Catholic 
Church  were  sufficiently  before  them,  would,  as  multitudes  have  done  in 
every  age,  forsake  all  things  to  take  up  their  cross  and  follow  their 
Master. 

4.  I  must  now  make  application  of  what  I  have  said,  more  nearly  to 
ourselves.  What  I  am  going  to  add,  I  address  most  especially  to  those 
who  are  of  my  flock. 

We  live  in  a  country  which  for  three  hundred  years  has  been  pervaded 
by  a  spirit  of  opposition  to  the  Catholic  Church.  Everything  round 
about  us  is  full  of  antagonism  to  the  Faith.  The  whole  literature  of  this 
country  is  written  by  those  who,  sometimes  unconsciously,  sometimes 
consciously,  assume  an  attitude  of  hostility  to  it.  I  say,  sometimes  un- 
consciously, because,  being  born  in  that  state,  they  often  do  so  without 
being  aware  that  they  have  received  an  heirloom  of  false  principles  and 
of  false  histories  respecting  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.  Without  know- 
ing it,  they  are  perpetually  incorporating  them  with  what  they  write ;  so 
that  the  greater  part  of  the  literature  of  this  country,  which  is  in  the 
hands  of  us  all,  contains  a  systematic  contradiction  of  that  which  we 
believe.  The  newspapers,  which  fill  the  whole  country,  day  by  day  are 
animated  by  a  spirit  which  is  against  us ;  and  they  are  filled  by  details, 
and  narratives,  and  correspondence,  and  they  must  forgive  me  if  I  say, 
fables,  fictions,  fabrications,  absurdities — anything  that  can  pander  to  the 
morbid  appetite,  to  the  craving  for  scandals  against  Catholic  institutions, 
Catholic  priests,  Catholic  nuns.  Only  the  other  day  we  read  attacks 
against  certain  nuns  in  Paris  which,  for  studied  but  transparent  falsehood, 
were  worthy  of  the  Commission  of  Henry  VHI.  How  is  it  possible  that 
Catholics  can  read  these  things  day  by  day,  and  their  eyes,  and  imagina- 
tions, and  hearts  receive  insensibly  no  stain  from  them?  They  who 
walk  in  the  sun  cannot  help  being  tanned.     You  go  to  and  fro  in  the 


CARDINAL    MANNING,  219 

midst  of  all  this  literature  and  all  these  daily  calumnies,  you  breathe  this 
atmosphere  charged  with  untruths — how  is  it  possible  that  you  should  be 
unaffected  by  them  ?  Do  we  not  frequently  hear  Catholics  say :  "  Am  I 
to  believe  this  ?  "  "  Can  I  contradict  it  ?  "  "  If  it  be  not  contradicted,  there 
must  be  some  truth  in  it."  Little  by  little  it  gets  into  the  minds  of  men 
with,  "  I ,  suppose,  then,  it  cannot  be  denied";  "Where  there  is  smoke 
there  is  fire."  In  this  way,  falsehoods  are  insinuated.  They  are  either 
never  contradicted,  or  the  contradiction  is  never  published,  or  if  published, 
hardly  seen.  The  slander  has  done  its  work,  and  the  stain  remains.  We 
live  where  Catholics  are  few,  where  those  who  are  not  Catholics  are  the 
great  multitude ;  we  are  bound  up  with  them  in  kindred,  in  affinity,  in 
friendship,  in  business,  in  duty,  in  society.  It  is  impossible  that  we 
should  not  live  amongst  them,  work  with  them,  and  have  friendships  with 
them.  Charity  obliges  us  to  converse  with  them,  and  we  hear  much  that 
certainly  does  not  tend  to  conftrm  the  faith.  There  was  growing  up  in  the 
minds  of  some  men  a  disposition,  which,  I  am  happy  to  say,  is  nearly  cast 
out  again,  to  diminish  and  to  explain  away,  to  understate  and  reduce  to 
a  minimum  that  which  Catholics  ought  to  believe  and  to  practice.  This 
spirit  began  in  Germany.  It  says :  "  I  believe  everything  which  the  Church 
has  defined.  I  believe  all  dogmas ;  everything  which  has  been  defined  by 
a  General  Council."  This  sounds  a  large  and  generous  profession  of 
faith ;  but  they  forget  that  whatsoever  was  revealed  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost to  the  Apostles,  and  by  the  Apostles  preached  to  the  nations  of  the 
world,  and  has  descended  in  the  full  stream  of  universal  belief  and  con- 
stant tradition,  though  it  has  never  been  defined,  is  still  matter  of 
Divine  faith.  Thus  there  are  truths  of  faith  which  have  never  been 
defined;  and  they  have  never  been  defined  because  they  have  never 
been  contradicted.  They  are  not  defined  because  they  have  not  been 
denied.  The  definition  of  the  truth  is  the  fortification  of  the  Church 
against  the  assaults  of  unbelief.  Some  of  the  greatest  truths  of  revela- 
tion are  to  this  day  undefined.  The  infallibility  of  the  Church  has  never 
been  defined.  The  infallibility  of  the  Head  of  the  Church  was  only 
defined  the  other  day.  But  the  infallibility  of  the  Church,  for  which 
every  Catholic  would  lay  down  his  life,  has  never  been  defined  until 
now ;  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  is  at  this  moment  where  the  infalli- 
bility of  the  Pope  was  this  time  last  year :  an  undefined  point  of  Christian 
revelation,  believed  by  the  Christian  world,  but  not  yet  put  in  the  form  of  a 
definition.  When,  therefore,  men  said  they  would  only  believe  dogmas, 
and  definitions  by  General  Councils,  they  implied,  without  knowing  it,  that 
they  would  not  believe  in  the  infallibility  of  the  Church.  But  the  whole 
tradition  of  Christianity  comes  down  to  us  on  the  universal  testimony 
and  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  of  God ;  which,  whether  defined  or 


220  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

not,  is  a  matter  of  Divine  faith.  I  will  make  application  of  what  I  have 
said  when  I  sum  up  the  argument  I  am  stating.  Next,  people  began  to  say : 
"  I  can  admit  that  the  Head  of  the  Church  has  a  supreme  authority,  but 
that  authority  is  not  without  its  limits,  and  the  limits  are  here  and  there." 
Now  who,  I  ask,  can  limit  the  jurisdiction  of  a  supreme  authority?  Who 
can  prescribe  the  limits  of  any  jurisdiction  but  one  who  in  authority  is 
superior  to  him  who  holds  the  jurisdiction?  This  spirit  of  insubordina- 
tion was  coming  in  amongst  us ;  it  has  no  existence  now,  because  the 
Council  of  last  year  struck  it  dead.  I  should  have  thought  that  a  gener- 
ous heart,  filled  with  the  love  of  God,  would  have  desired  to  know  more 
and  more  of  Divine  truth,  and  would  have  said,  "  Let  me  know  every- 
thing which  God  has  revealed,  let  me  have  the  fullest  and  the  amplest 
knowledge,"  rather  than  be  jealous  and  niggardly  in  limiting  the  growth 
of  that  knowledge. 

5.  Lastly,  and  this  is  the  only  other  point  I  will  at  present  touch  on,, 
the  effect  of  such  an  atmosphere  as  that  we  live  in,  breathing  all  the  day 
long  the  cold  air  of  a  country  which  for  three  hundred  years  has  been 
opposed  to  the  Holy  Catholic  Faith,  is  to  produce  that  which  must  be 
called  practical  unbelief,  even  in  many  who  would  lay  down  their  lives 
for  the  dogmas  of  the  Faith.  And  that  practical  unbelief  is  this :  their 
faith  resides  in  their  intellect  whole  and  perfect,  but  it  is  cold  and  un- 
energetic  in  their  life,  and  it  does  not  govern  and  mould  the  character 
and  the  will.  They  get  acclimatized  to  the  temperature  round  about 
them.  You  all  know  how  we  become  acclimatized  to  a  foreign  country, 
how  we  can  learn  the  habits  and  the  language  and  the  accent  of  a  foreign 
people.  Such  is  the  state  of  many  who  intellectually  retain  their  faith, 
but  practically  seem  not  to  believe.  They  become,  for  instance,  uncon- 
scious of  the  Communion  of  Saints,  of  the  presence  of  God,  of  the  opera- 
tion of  the  unseen  world,  of  the  working  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  in  the 
Church,  and  of  the  personal  agency  and  subtlety  of  the  enemy  of  truth. 
I  have  given  these  last  two  examples,  because  they  are  the  two  stealthy 
and  secret  approaches  whereby  the  enemy  of  truth  first  assails  those  who 
sincerely  believe.  When  opening  his  trenches  against  the  faith  of  those 
who  never  doubted,  he  begins  with  the  least  noise,  and  under  cover. 

I  will  now  sum  up  what  I  have  said.  The  revolt  of  the  intellect 
against  God  is  against  His  existence,  or  against  His  revelation,  or  against 
His  Divine  authority.  And  there  are  the  two  stealthy  and  incipient 
forms  of  intellectual  revolt  to  which  Catholics  are  tempted ;  the  one  of 
diminishing  what  they  believe  to  a  minimum,  the  other  in  reducing  to 
the  least  that  which  they  are  bound  to  submit  to  in  point  of  authority,  or 
to  practice  in  point  of  devotion. 

I  can  make  but  one  application  of  what  has  been  said.     Two  years 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  221 

ago,  when  the  CEcumenical  Council  was  summoned  to  meet  in  Rome, 
immediately  through  all  European  countries,  both  those  which  are  within 
the  unity  of  the  Church  and  those  which  are  separated  from  it,  there 
arose  a  conspiracy  against  the  Council.  Men  of  the  character  I  have  been 
describing,  with  those  called  "  liberal  Catholics,"  and,  strange  to  say. 
Christians  of  all  sects,  and  Israelites  not  a  few,  revolutionists,  rationalists, 
chiefly  out  of  the  Church,  but  some  within  it,  professors,  declaimers, 
secret  political  societies,  discontented  and  fractious  minds  already  out  of 
harmony  with  authority  and  the  Church  in  all  parts  of  Europe,  combined 
against  the  Vatican  Council.  This  general  conspiracy  strove,  by  corre- 
spondence, and  by  articles,  pamphlets,  and  newspapers,  to  avert  one 
thing,  which  all  alike  instinctively  felt  to  be  fatal  to  their  pretensions. 
They  all  alike  feared  lest  the  infallible  authority  of  the  Head  of  the 
Church  should  be  defined  as  a  doctrine  of  faith.  An  unerring  instinct 
taught  them  that  such  a  definition  would  require  of  critics  the  submission 
of  disciples.  They  were  perfectly  right ;  so  perfectly  right,  indeed,  that 
those  who  desired  to  see  this  definition  made,  desired  it  for  the  same  ex- 
plicit reason  for  which  others  opposed  it.  It  was  well  known  on  either 
side  that  we  were  contending  for  the  Divine  authority  of  faith — the  world 
against  it,  the  Church  for  it — and  that  the  axe  was  laid  to  the  root  of  the 
tree.  The  conflict  was  not  for  this  doctrine  or  that  doctrine,  nor  tor  a 
fragment  in  detail,  but  for  the  Divine  certainty  of  the  whole.  Well,  that 
opposition  was  encouraged,  flattered,  countenanced  by  the  favor  of  gov- 
ernments and  diplomatists,  statesmen  and  philosophers.  All  the  news- 
paper press  and  the  whole  public  opinion  of  the  world  was  united  against 
the  Vatican  Council.  It  tried  to  write  it  down,  to  make  it  ridiculous,  to 
hold  it  up  to  contempt ;  men  staked  their  literary  credit  and  their  author- 
ity over  men  upon  the  issue  of  the  effort  to  turn  the  Vatican  Council 
aside  from  its  purpose,  and  to  hinder  it  from  doing  its  work.  I  am  not 
surprised  that  no  little  disappointment  should  be  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  so  conspired.  I  am  not  the  least  surprised  at  their  saying  and  writ- 
ing sharp  and  bitter  things  against  us ;  for  a  more  complete  overthrow  of 
a  very  powerful  conspiracy  was  never  seen.  Well,  that  being  over,  we 
next  heard  that  after  publication  of  the  definition,  in  every  Catholic 
country,  I  know  not  how  many  bishops,  how  many  priests,  how  many 
professors,  how  many  learned  men,  how  many  of  the  Catholic  laity,  were 
to  rise  up  to  begin  a  new  reformation.  We  held  our  peace;  we  knew 
better.  The  time  was  not  come.  Words  do  little;  events  do  everything. 
We  waited.  What  is  the  result  ?  Every  bishop  of  the  Church  of  God 
acknowledges  the  authority  of  that  CEcumenical  Council.  If  there  be 
here  and  there  a  priest  who  does  not  acknowledge  its  authority,  they  may 
be  counted  on  your  fingers.     I  do  indeed  hear  of  a  professor  here  and 


222  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

there ;  but  it  is  not  all  learned  men  that  are  professors,  and  it  is  not  all 
professors  that  are  learned  men.  Among  the  bishops  and  among  the 
priests  of  the  Church  there  are  many  profound  theologians  who  have 
never  sat  in  a  professor's  chair.  It  is  not  the  habit  that  makes  the  monk, 
nor  is  it  the  title  of  professor  that  makes  the  learned  man ;  and  many 
that  have  never  sat  in  the  chair  of  a  professor  are  more  profoundly 
learned  than  many  who  have ;  and  there  are  many  sitting  in  those  chairs 
who,  to  speak  with  profuse  respect,  are  not  learned.  If,  therefore,  I  find 
that  in  Germany  some  professors  have  been  making  declarations  against 
the  Council,  that  does  not  surprise,  still  less  alarm,  me.  It  is  against  this 
same  rationalistic  spirit — that  is,  the  pretensions  of  perverted  intellect 
— that  the  whole  pontificate  of  Pius  IX.  has  contended.  And  it  was 
perfectly  foreseen,  that  the  moment  this  intellectual  Gnosticism  was 
touched,  it  would  rise ;  and  the  rising  has  been  incomparably  less  than 
was  expected. 

There  never  was  a  General  Council  of  the  Church  after  which  there 
followed  less  of  contradiction.  After  the  great  Council  of  Nice,  Arianism 
became  a  formal  heresy  which  afflicted  the  Church  for  centuries.  After 
the  Council  of  Ephesus,  Nestorianism  became  a  formal  heresy  which  is 
not  extinct  at  this  day.  After  the  Council  of  Constance,  the  spirit  of 
national  insubordination  sowed  the  seeds  of  Gallicanism,  which  was  only 
extinguished  last  year  in  the  Vatican  Council.  After  the  Council  of  the 
Vatican,  or  at  least  its  first  sessions,  it  is  no  surprise  that  a  handful  of 
professors  in  Germany  should  rise  up  against  it ;  and  when  I  analyze  the  list 
and  find  out  who  these  professors  really  are,  I  am  still  farther  from  surprise. 
There  are,  I  believe,  only  two  professors  of  theology ;  but  we  find  profes- 
sors of  botany,  mineralogy,  chemistry,  anatomy,  physics,  and  of  I  know 
not  what.  The  other  day  we  saw  an  address  from  the  University  of 
Rome  to  an  aged  and  celebrated  professor  at  Munich.  Well,  there  came 
an  address  from  the  University  of  Rome ;  and  there  went  up  a  cry  of 
exultation  in  England,  that  even  within  sight  of  the  windows  of  the  Vati- 
can, Rome  had  protested  against  the  Vatican  Council.  I  have  to-day 
read  the  names  of  the  men  who  signed  that  address ;  and  I  find  that  they 
were,  with  hardly  an  exception,  men  intruded  by  the  Italian  Government 
since  last  September,  and  that  they  style  themselves  professors  of  botany, 
of  mineralogy,  of  chemistry,  of  surgery,  and  one  describes  himself  as  pro- 
fessor of  Veterinary  Pathology. 

Before  the  Council  met,  a  great  preacher  in  France,  whose  natural 
gifts  had  filled  the  land  with  his  fame,  in  an  evil  hour  lifted  up  the  elo- 
quent voice  which  God  had  given  him,  against  the  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Where  is  he  now  ?     Lost,  powerless,  unknown. 

The  venerable  professor  in  Germany — more  learned,  indeed,  in  history 


CARDINAL  MANNING. 


223 


sacred  and  profane,  than  either  in  Christian  philosophy  or  in  theology, 
the  founder  of  a  school  and  the  master  of  many  disciples — through  the 
whole  of  the  Council  exercised  his  influence  with  a  skill  and  a  boldness 
which  would  have  made  itself  sensibly  felt  against  any  authority  which 
was  not  Divine.  We  looked  forward  with  anxiety  to  what  might  be  his 
future  career.  I  was  fully  prepared  to  hear  that  which  I  have  heard  ;  and 
I  feared  too  that  his  eminent  example  might  have  led  astray  a  multitude 
of  his  disciples.  What  do  I  see  ?  Not  a  bishop,  though  many  were  his 
disciples.  A  few  priests,  and  a  handful  of  professors ;  and  this  is  all  that 
comes  after  the  Council  of  the  Vatican.  A  little  momentary  agitation, 
a  little  transient  noise,  and  a  passing  sorrow.  The  Council  has  extin- 
guished the  last  remaining  divergence  of  thought  in  respect  to  faith,  to 
be  found  among  Catholics.  It  has  compacted  and  consolidated  the  Di- 
vine authority  of  the  Church  in  its  head,  and  therefore  in  the  whole 
body,  both  in  the  active  and  passive  infallibility.  The  authority  of  the 
Vatican  Council  is  fatal  to  the  semi-rationalism  which  had  crept  within 
the  Church.  The  antagonists  knew  it  well,  and  the  Council  knew  it  like- 
wise when  it  made  that  definition.  There  never  was  a  time  when  the 
faith  of  the  Catholic  Church  was  more  firm,  complete,  and  universal  than 
at  this  time.  And  if  in  the  course  of  ages  a  revolt  of  the  intellect  has 
carried  away  individuals  from  the  Faith,  in  the  course  of  the  same  ages, 
the  manifestations  of  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Church  in  the  midst 
of  mankind  have  been  made  more  luminous  and  self-evident  than  ever. 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  WILL  AGAINST  GOD. 

*'  The  wisdom  of  the  flesh  is  an  enemy  to  God ;  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of 
God,  neither  can  it  be."— :Romans  viii.  7. 

jN  looking  back  at  what  I  have  hitherto  said,  I  feel  more  than 
ever  the  difficulty  under  which  I  have  been,  in  laying  before 
you  a  subject  which,  if  it  had  been  treated  in  detail,  with  the 
exactness  which  a  philosophical  or  a  theological  argument 
would  require,  must  have  become  entirely  impossible  in  such  a  popular 
form.  But  the  treating  it  in  a  popular  form  may  perhaps  lay  my  state- 
ment open  to  question  and  to  cavil.  Between  these  two  difficulties  I  can 
only  attempt  to  give  a  correct  outline.  I  will  therefore  remind  y.ou 
briefly  of  what  I  have  said. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  revolt  of  the  intellect  from  God  as  one  of  the 
chief  evils  of  these  latter  times ;  and  I  instanced  in  proof  of  it  the  rise 
of  Atheism — a  negation  of  the  existence  of  God — which  I  then  said,  and 
say  again,  is  characteristic  of  these  latter  days ;  because  the  earlier  ages 
of  the  world  were  so  profusely  penetrated  with  the  traditionary  belief  in 
a  Divine  being,  that  though  they  fell  into  Polytheism,  Pantheism,  and 
idolatry,  yet  into  Atheism,  as  we  know  it  now,  they  never  fell.  The 
other  intellectual  evils  of  these  times  are  Deism,  or  the  rejection  of 
revelation ;  heresy,  or  the  rejection  of  the  Divine  voice  of  the  Church, 
the  jealous  and  ungenerous  limitation  of  the  doctrinal  authority  of  the 
Church,  even  in  those  who  believe  in  the  revelation  of  the  Faith ;  and 
lastly,  the  practical  unbelief  of  lukewarm  and  heartless  Catholics.  These 
two  last  being  what  may  be  called  the  premonitory  symptoms  of  raticm- 
alistic  doubt  and  of  final  unbelief. 

The  next  subject  before  us  is  the  revolt  of  the  will  of  man  from  the 
authority  of  God.  The  connection  between  the  two  subjects  is  evident. 
We  never  will  anything  which  we  have  not  first  thought.  There  is  an 
action  of  the  intellect  preceding  every  act  of  the  will ;  for  the  will  that 
acts  without  the  previous  guidance  of  the  intellect  is  an  irrational  will. 
It  may  be  the  action  of  a  man,  but  it  is  not  a  human  action,  because  it  is 
not  under  the  guidance  of  reason.  Therefore,  before  every  act  of  the 
will,  there  must  be  an  act  of  the  intellect  or  reason.  The  connection  be- 
tween the  last  and  the  present  subject  is  this :  that  if  the  reason  or  intel- 
(234) 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  225 

lect  be  rightly  directed  by  the  truth,  which  is  the  intelligence  of  God,  the 
will  will  be  directed  according  to  the  law  of  God.  But  if  the  intellect  be 
perverted  or  obscured,  then  the  perversion  or  the  obscurity  will  descend 
from  the  intellect  into  the  will,  and  the  will  will  be  likewise  perverted  or 
enfeebled.  Now  the  words  which  I  have  taken  from  St.  Paul's  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  express  this  truth.  He  had  already  said,  "There  is  now, 
therefore,  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk 
not  according  to  the  flesh,"  but  according  to  the  Spirit.  "  For  the  law 
of  the  Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus  hath  delivered  me  from  the  law  of  sin 
and  death  ;  for  what  the  law  could  not  do,  in  that  it  was  weak  through 
the  flesh,  God  sending  His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh  and  of 
sin,  hath  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh ;  that  the  justification  of  the  law 
might  be  fulfilled  in  us,  who  walk  not  according  to  the  flesh,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  Spirit.  For  they  that  are  according  to  the  flesh,  mind  the 
things  that  are  of  the  flesh ;  but  they  that  are  according  to  the  Spirit, 
mind  the  things  that  are  of  the  Spirit.  For  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  is 
death :  but  the  wisdom  of  the  Spirit  is  life  and  peace.  Because  the  wis- 
dom of  the  flesh  is  an  enemy  to  God ;  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  lav/  of 
God,  neither  can  it  be.  And  they  who  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please 
God."  Now  the  word  "  flesh  "  here  means  simply  mankind,  human  na- 
ture, man  as  he  is  without  God,  man  as  he  is,  with  the  affections,  the 
passions,  the  intellect,  the  will,  and  the  three  wounds  which  came  by  the 
fall ;  that  is,  ignorance  in  the  intellect,  disorder  in  the  passions,  and  weak- 
ness in  the  will.  This  is  what  the  Apostle  calls  the  "  flesh."  Now,  he 
says  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh ;  and  in  the  Latin  version  in  one  p^ace  it  is 
translated  "  the  prudence  of  the  flesh  ";  in  another,  "  the  wisdom  of  the 
flesh  ";  and  in  the  original  Greek  it  is  the  "  mind  ";  that  is  to  say,  the 
aggregate  of  affections,  passions,  and  thoughts  acting  upon  the  will,  dis- 
turbing and  perverting  it.  Human  nature  in  its  fallen  state  is  declared 
to  be  an  enemy  of  God,  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God.  St.  Paul  says 
that  it  cannot  be  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  for  this  reason  :  so  long 
as  it  is  in  that  state  of  disorder,  it  must  be  intrinsically  opposed  to 
the  will  of  God;  for  it  is  unholy,  and  God  is  holy;  it  is  false,  and  God 
is  true ;  it  is  unjust,  and  God  is  just ;  and  therefore,  like  as  a  crooked 
line  cannot  be  a  straight  line — and  if  the  line  can  be  straightened,  its 
crookedness  has  ceased  to  exist,  for  crookedness  can  never  be  straight — 
so  it  is  with  human  nature,  unless  it  is  changed,  renewed,  and  elevated. 
In  renewal  it  puts  off  its  former  disorder,  which  cannot  be  subject  to  the 
law  of  God.     The  disorder  ceases  to  exist. 

Now,  such  was  not  the  state  of  man  when  God  made  him  in  the  be- 
ginning. Man  was  created  perfect,  both  in  body  and  soul.  The  passions 
and  affections  were  in  perfect  subjection  to  his  will,  and  his  will  to  the 


226  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

will  of  God.  From  the  first  moment  of  his  creation  he  was  constituted 
in  a  state  of  grace,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelt  in  him,  illuminating  him 
with  the  knowledge  of  God,  ordering  his  affections  and  passions  accord- 
ing to  the  law  of  God,  and  subjecting  his  will  to  the  will  of  God :  so  that 
there  was  a  supernatural  unity  and  harmony  in  his  soul,  and  his  soul  was, 
as  it  were,  the  Kingdom  of  God  within  him.  Such  was  the  state  of  man 
in  the  beginning ;  and  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  then  had  no  existence — 
the  wisdom  of  the  Spirit  reigned  in  him,  which  is  both  life  and  peace. 
When  sin  entered,  and  death  by  sin,  then  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  de- 
veloped itself;  that  is,  human  nature  in  its  fallen  state,  deprived  by  its 
own  sin  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  became  darkened,  troubled,  disordered,  un- 
holy. The  unity  and  harmony  which  existed  before  the  dominion  of 
the  soul  over  itself,  was  shattered  and  destroyed.  The  rebellion  of  the 
passions  and  affections  against  the  soul  at  once  arose.  As  soon  ias  the 
will  of  man  revolted  against  the  will  of  God,  the  passions  and  affections 
in  him,  which  till  then  had  been  subject  to  him,  revolted.  He  was  pun- 
ished for  his  revolt  against  God  by  an  internal  revolt  against  himself. 

Now  this  rebellion  of  the  soul  is  healed  by  the  redemption  of  the 
Precious  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  regeneration  of  the  soul  by  the 
Sacrament  of  holy  Baptism,  the  Spirit  of  God  is  once  more  communicated 
to  the  nature  of  man.  God  makes  the  soul  His  dwelling-place  ;  the  order 
and  harmony  of  the  soul  begins  to  be  renewed  in  Him.  The  wisdom  of 
the  Spirit  is  the  mind  of  one  who,  being  under  the  guidance  and  govern- 
ment of  the  Spirit  of  God,  has  subjected  his  intellect  to  the  truth  of 
God,  and  his  will  to  the  will  of  God,  He  is  therefore  in  friendship  with 
Him.  St.  John  and  St.  James  both  say  that  the  friendship  of  this  world 
is  enmity  against  God,  because  there  is  an  essential  enmity  between  the 
state  of  fallen  man  and  God.  But  when,  by  regeneration,  the  will  of 
man  is  restored  to  union  with  God,  friendship  with  God  is  restored  to 
man.  This,  then,  is  the  meaning  of  the  Apostle's  words.  Now,  let  us 
make  application  of  them.  A  rock  of  crystal  resolves  itself  into  a  multi- 
tude of  crystals,  every  one  of  which  bears  the  type  of  the  whole.  The 
primitive  form  pervades  the  whole  block.  In  like  manner,  every  regener- 
ate soul  restored  to  friendship  and  union  with  God,  by  the  indwelling  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  is  compacted  in  the  Body  of  Christ :  "  unto  whom  com- 
ing," as  St.  Peter  says,  **  be  you  also  as  living  stones  built  up,  a  spiritual 
house.'  And  as  every  stone  is  shaped  and  squared  and  fashioned  and 
fitted  to  the  place  that  it  is  to  occupy,  so  every  Christian  soul,  built  up 
into  the  unity  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  grows  into  a  temple  in 
which  God  dwells  by  His  Spirit.  In  this  kingdom  the  will  of  God  is  su- 
preme, and  the  Holy  Spirit  perpetually  dwells,  pervading  the  Church 
with  sanctity.     The  Church  incorporates  the  will  of  God,  and  makes  it 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  227 

visible  among  men.  The  sins  of  individuals  notwithstanding,  the  Church 
is  conformed  by  its  interior  subjection  to  the  will  of  God,  because  it  is  a 
spiritual  society  made  up  of  individuals,  called  from  all  races  and  lan- 
guages, compacted  and,  built  together  in  indissoluble  unity,  as  they  sub- 
ject themselves,  one  by  one,  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Spirit,  who  dwells  in 
the  Church  forever.  But  the  Church  has  a  twofold  mission.  The  first 
part  of  its  work — the  highest  and  tne  noblest — is  the  salvation  of  in- 
dividual souls,  as  I  have  described.  But  it  has  another :  the  second  part 
of  the  mission  of  the  Church  to  the  world  is  the  sanctification  of  the  civil 
society  of  the  world,  that  is,  of  the  households  and  families  of  men ; 
then  of  peoples,  nations,  states,  legislatures,  kingdoms,  empires,  and  the 
whole  civil  order  of  mankind. 

The  Church  has  had  three  periods.  The  first  was  the  period  of  three 
hundred  years,  while  it  was  accomplishing  its  spiritual  mission  for  the 
conversion  and  salvation  of  individuals,  under  persecution.  The  second 
period  began  with  the  cessation  of  persecution  in  the  conversion  of  the 
first  emperor,  by  whom,  it  may  be  said,  the  civil  power  of  the  world  first 
paid  homage  to  the  Church  of  God.  From  that  date  down  to  the  six- 
teenth century,  the  civil  society  of  the  world  was  pervaded  by  the 
Christian  law,  by  Christian  faith,  by  Christian  unity,  by  Christian  wor- 
ship. The  laws  of  God  became  the  laws  of  Christian  nations ;  the  laws 
of  the  Church  were  transcribed  into  the  statutes  of  Christian  people ;  and 
the  civil  and  spiritual  authorities  of  the  world  were  united  together  in 
peace  and  harmony.  There  never  was  a  period  in  history  when  the 
world,  as  such,  was  so  conformed  to  the  will  of  God  as  in  that  period, 
from  the  cessation  of  the  last  persecution  until  the  sixteenth  century. 
Do  not  misunderstand  me  to  say  that  the  world  had  the  note  of  sanctity. 
No ;  sanctity  is  the  note  of  the  Church  alone.  But  even  the  world  then 
acknowledged  God  and  His  revelation,  the  unity  of  His  worship,  the 
unity  of  His  Church,  the  supreme  authority  of  faith,  and  of  its  laws. 
Even  the  world — the  kingdoms  and  empires  of  the  world — acknowledged 
these  things ;  and  that  was  a  time  when,  howsoever  the  passions  and  affec- 
tions of  man  rebelled,  yet  the  public  order  of  society  was  Christian,  and 
the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  was,  at  least  so  far  as  public  laws  could  reach,  in 
subjection  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Spirit.  I  know  that  the  history  of  those 
times  is  full  of  outrages,  horrors,  violence,  and  the  worst  of  crimes ; 
nevertheless,  I  reaffirm  what  I  have  said,  that  in  those  ages  the  world  was 
Christian  and  society  was  Christian.  We  have  now  entered  into  the 
third  period  of  the  history  of  the  Church.  From  the  sixteenth  century 
downward  to  the  present  time  there  has  been  an  undoing  of  that  work 
which  the  Church,  for  the  previous  fourteen  hundred  years,  had  been  ac- 
complishing ;  there  has  been  a  pulling  down  of  the  whole  fabric ;  a  dis- 


228  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

integration  of  the  Christian  society ;  an  erasing  of  Christian  laws  from  the 
statute-books  of  nations ;  a  breaking-up  of  the  unity  of  faith,  worship, 
and  communion ;  a  rejection  of  the  spiritual  authority  of  the  Church  over 
men, 

I  would  ask,  what  is  it  that  has  been  going  on  for  the  last  three  hun- 
dred years  ?  A  revolt  of  the  will  of  man  from  the  will  of  God,  as  ex- 
pressed and  embodied  in  the  whole  work  of  the  Church  for  the  previous 
fourteen  hundred  years.  When,  three  hundred  years  ago,  individuals 
one  by  one  revolted  from  the  authority  of  the  Church,  they  laid  the  first 
seeds  of  the  revolutions  which,  in  these  later  ages,  have  separated  whole 
nations  from  the  unity  of  the  Faith.  Individuals  began  the  work  in  the 
sphere  of  private  judgment,  or  of  their  private  conscience  before  God. 
But  that  which  begins  in  the  private  conscience  of  men  one  by  one,  be- 
comes little  by  little  the  collective  and  public  opinion  of  a  people,  and  is 
at  last  forced  upon  governments  and  legislatures,  and  changes  the  public 
laws  in  conformity  to  itself.  Now,  for  the  last  three  hundred  years,  there 
has  been  a  continual  expunging  of  the  law  of  Christianity,  of  the  faith 
and  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  from  the  laws  of  Christian  peoples ;  so 
that  I  may  say  that  at  this  moment  there  does  not  remain  one  single 
people  that  has  not  separated  itself  formally  from  its  old  relations  of 
unity  with  the  Christian  Church.  Many,  as  in  the  north  and  west  of 
Europe,  have  formally  separated  themselves  altogether  from  the  unity  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  Other  nations,  that  remain  at  least  united  in  faith 
and  in  outward  worship,  nevertheless  have  broken  all  bonds  and  relations 
with  it,  except  in  the  bare  retaining  of  dogma  and  of  spiritual  discipline. 
And  now  this  revolt  against  the  will  of  God,  as  expressed  and  embodied 
by  His  providence  in  the  work  of  the  fourteen  centuries  preceding,  has 
received  its  momentary  completion.  The  people  most  favored  among 
Christian  nations,  as  having  in  the  midst  of  them  the  throne  of  the  Vicar 
of  Jesus  Christ,  have  revolted,  and  with  a  sacrilegious  and  violent  inva- 
sion have  usurped  the  city  of  Rome,  which,  from  the  beginning  of  Christi- 
anity, has  been  the  centre  and  the  head  of  the  Christian  Church,  and,  ever 
since  persecution  ceased,  has  been  the  visible  throne  from  which  the 
Vicars  of  Christ  have  reigned,  by  faith  and  the  Divine  law,  over  the 
nations  of  the  world. 

I.  The  first  mark,  then,  of  these  times  is  lawlessness.  This  revolt  of 
the  will  from  God  is  signally  rnanifested  in  the  rejection  of  that  order  of 
Christian  civilization  which  the  Divine  providence  has  built  up  in  the 
whole  past  history  of  Christendom.  St.  Paul,  in  his  Epistle  to  Timothy, 
says:  "In  the  last  days,  shall  come  on  dangerous  times.  Men  shall  be 
lovers  of  themselves,  covetous,  haughty,  proud,  blasphemous,  disobedient 
to  parents,  ungrateful,  wicked,  incontinent,  traitors,  stubborn,  puffed-up, 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  229 

and  lovers  of  pleasures  more  than  of  God."  "  Evil  men  and  seducers 
shall  grow  worse  and  worse,  erring,"  and  driving  the  world  into  error. 
Now  these  words  are  a  prophecy  of  the  latter  times  of  the  world ;  and 
if  these  be  not  the  latter  times,  they  have  at  least  the  marks  already  upon 
them.  St.  Paul  also,  writing  to  the  Thessalonians,  and  speaking  again  of 
the  latter  times,  says  that  "  the  man  of  sin,"  "  that  wicked  one,  shall  be 
revealed."  Now,  I  shall  not  enter  into  the  question  of  who  that  wickpd 
one  may  be  ;  but  we  can  distinctly  understand  why  St.  Paul  calls  him 
that  wicked  one.  The  word  in  the  original  is,  "  that  lawless  "  one,  that 
is,  one  who  will  not  recognize  any  law  but  his  own  will,  who  will  pull 
down  and  destroy  the  work  of  God.  Now,  if  there  be  any  one  thing 
which  is  a  more  powerful  solvent  of  the  Christian  world  than  another,  it 
is  lawlessness,  the  rejection  of  law,  the  rebellion  of  the  human  will,  the 
human  will  making  a  law  to  itself,  that  is,  each  individual  becoming 
his  own  legislator,  and  each  legislator  making  laws  at  variance  with 
the  wills  of  others,  causing  perpetual  change,  universal  discord,  isola- 
tion of  man  from  man,  and  because  isolation,  therefore  conflict  endless 
and  suicidal. 

Now,  we  hear,  day  by  day,  the  glorification  of  revolutions.  And 
what  are  revolutions  ?  They  are  the  violent  disintegration  of  that 
order  which  is  based  upon  authority  and  obedience ;  or,  in  other  words, 
they  are  the  extinction  of  the  idea  of  law  and  of  obligation,  the  over- 
throw of  the  supremacy  of  law,  of  the  duties  of  the  human  conscience 
and  of  the  human  will  to  law :  first  to  the  law  of  God,  for  that  is  the 
sole  foundation  and  basis  of  all  authority,  and  then  to  the  civil  and 
political  laws  of  society,  which  spring  from  that  Divine  law  and  are 
sanctioned  by  it.  The  first  and  broadest  mark  that  is  upon  these  days, 
then,  is  lawlessness. 

I  should  be  anticipating  what  I  have  to  say  hereafter  if  I  were  to 
take  for  example  any  particular  people,  or  any  particular  nation ;  but  I 
think  no  man  that  has  read,  be  it  ever  so  little,  of  the  modern  books 
upon  what  is  called  "  democracy,"  of  its  gradual  and  steady  advance, 
its  perpetual  and  irresistible  development,  in  countries  separated  indeed 
from  us  by  a  wide  sea,  but  closely  allied  to  us  by  all ,  that  acts  and  re- 
acts upon  peoples  of  the  same  origin,  will  misunderstand  my  meaning. 
This  lawlessness  shows  itself  in  these  three  ways : 

First,  in  individuals;  that  is  to  say,  men  have  ceased  to  govern  their 
conduct  with  reference  to  the  laws  of  God  and  His  Church.  Many  have 
so  completely  ceased  to  do  this,  that  any  one  who  does  so  is  marked 
as  fanatical  or  bigoted  or  a  believer.  We  have  come  to  the  days  when  in 
some  countries  the  man  who  professes  faith  is  marked  for  reproach  as  a 
clerical,  or  soft-headed,  or  a  reactionist.     Even  in  our  own  country  this  is 


230  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

true.  You  may  not  meet  it,  perhaps,  in  the  society  in  which  you  live ;  a 
certain  refinement  represses  it.  But  there  are  classes  more  outspoken, 
where  the  truth  is  told  more  baldly.  Fifty  years  ago,  if  a  man  did  not 
believe  in  Christianity  he  held  his  peace,  not  only  out  of  respect  for 
others,  but  out  of  respect  for  himself.  Now,  men  have  no  shame  to  pro- 
fess infidelity.  Then,  the  masses  professed  to  be  what  their  fathers  were. 
Now,  when,  out  of  some  hundreds  of  workingmen,  one  was  known  to  go 
to  church,  his  companions  gave  him  a  nickname,  and  that  name  was  the 
most  sacred  Name  that  was  ever  heard  on  earth.  The  laws  of  that  Di- 
vine Person  cannot  be  vivid  in  the  minds  of  those  who  could  so  disclaim 
their  share  in  Him. 

There  is,  further,  a  deliberate  and  legal  departure  from  the  Divine  law 
which  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  social  life.  Christian  matrimony  is  a 
Sacrament,  and  creates  an  indissoluble  bond  which  death  alone  can  loose. 
Such  was  the  law  of  England,  not  only  till  three  hundred  years  ago,  but 
until  fifteen  years  ago,  though  by  Acts  of  Parliament  it  was  violated ; 
that  is,  by  privileges,  or  private  laws  for  private  cases,  persons  were  pro- 
tected from  the  penalties  of  the  law.  The  law  of  Christendom  was  the 
law  of  England  down  to  fifteen  years  ago,  and  the  bond  of  marriage  was 
indissoluble.  But  the  indissoluble  bond  of  marriage  is  the  foundation  of 
the  domestic  life  of  Christendom.  It  was  out  of  that  principle  of  authority 
and  order  that  Christendom  arose  in  its  unity  and  purity,  in  the  midst  of 
the  unimaginable  evils  of  the  heathen  world.  And  in  these  days  a  blow 
has  been  struck  at  this  first  principle  of  Christian  homes,  which  are  the 
foundation  of  political  society. 

Moreover,  in  the  whole  civil  and  political  order  there  has  risen  up  in 
the  last  century  a  formal  rebellion  against  authority.  About  eighty  years 
ago  was  published  to  the  world  a  new  gospel  for  the  political  order  of 
men.  It  has  been  called  "  the  Principles  of  '89."  Read  it  for  yourselves, 
and  you  will  find  it  full  of  what  is  called  "  the  rights  of  man."  But  there 
are  two  things  of  which  you  will  find  nothing.  First,  you  will  find  noth- 
ing there  about  the  rights  of  God ;  and  surely  they  ought  to  have  prece- 
dence ;  and,  secondly,  you  will  find  nothing  there  about  the  duties  of 
man ;  but  surely  men  have  duties.  When  men  rise  for  their  rights,  for- 
getting to  say  a  word  about  their  duties,  they  are  already  in  rebellion.  I 
cannot  fail  to  notice,  in  order  to  make  this  point  clear,  that  we  now  are 
hearing  of  the  rights  of  women ;  and  if  there  can  be  a  sign  of  a  society 
inverted,  and  of  the  moral  order  of  the  world  reversed,  it  is  the  putting 
of  woman  out  of  her  proper  sphere — the  domestic  life — where  she  is  sover- 
eign, and  the  putting  her  in  that  sphere  where  she  ought  never  to  set 
her  foot — the  public  life  of  nations.  To  put  man  and  woman  upon  an 
equality  is  not  to  elevate  woman,  but  to  degrade  her.     I  trust  that  the 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  231 

womanhood  of  England — to  say  nothing  of  the  Christian  conscience 
which  yet  remains — will  resist,  by  a  stern  moral  refusal,  the  immodesty 
which  would  thrust  women  from  their  private  life  of  dignity  and  suprem- 
acy into  the  public  conflicts  of  men.  This,  again,  is  a  part  of  the  lawless- 
ness of  these  days,  and  shows  a  decline  of  the  finer  instincts  of  woman- 
hood, and  a  loss  of  that  decisive  Christian  conscience  which  can  dis- 
tinguish not  only  between  what  is  right  and  wrong,  but  between  what  is 
dignified  and  what  is  undignified  both  for  women  and  for  men.  This 
clamor  about  women's  rights  may  be  taken  as  one  of  the  most  subtle  and 
most  certain  marks  of  a  lawlessness  of  mind  which  is  now  invading 
society.  This,  then,,  is  the  first  example  I  will  give  of  lawlessness  in 
general. 

2.  And,  secondly,  this  lawlessness  is  invading  the  domestic  and  private 
life  of  men  in  the  form  of  luxury ;  and  perhaps  there  is  no  country  which 
is  in  greater  danger  from  this  cause  than  ours.  We  are  the  wealthiest 
people  in  the  world.  The  personal  and  the  national  wealth  of  England  is 
something  incomparable  in  the  history  of  mankind.  I  must,  however, 
bear  witness — and  it  is  full  of  consolation  to  know  it — that  there  is  still 
to  be  found  a  common  good  sense,  a  firm  resisting  manliness,  in  the  Eng- 
lish character — and  it  prevails  also  in  the  characters  of  some  of  the  women 
of  England — a  determination  not  to  be  softened  and  pampered.  Men  re- 
fuse to  be  made  effeminate,  and  women  to  be  self-indulgent.  There  is, 
then,  something  to  resist  it ;  and  I  hope,  for  that  reason,  that  the  pesti- 
lence of  luxury  may  not  prevail  over  us.  But  we  are  in  danger  lest  our 
superabundant  wealth  should  create  a  material  civilization,  so  advanced, 
so  refined,  and  carried  out  with  such  extraordinary  subtlety  of  invention, 
that  it  will  need  a  very  strong  and  firm  will  not  to  be  softened  by  it. 
There  is  no  doubt  that,  in  dress,  in  pleasures,  and  in  amusements,  there  is 
an  invasion  of  luxury  in  our  higher  society  which  is  very  dangerous,  and 
for  this  reason :  when  people  have  allowed  themselves  to  go  up  to  the 
brink  of  all  that  is  lawful,  it  is  very  easy  to  trespass,  and  to  go  over  the 
line  that  is  forbidden.  The  line  between  what  is  lawful  and  unlawful  in 
such  minds  is  very  faint  and  shadowy ;  and  those  who  are  always  walking 
on  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  will  not  be  long  before  they  go  over.  The 
Apostle,  speaking  of  women,  says:  "  She  that  liveth  in  pleasures,  is  dead 
while  she  is  living."  The  taint  of  mortality  is  upon  a  refined  and  luxuri- 
ous life,  though  on  the  outside,  like  the  whited  sepulchre,  it  seem  un- 
spotted. There  is  no  doubt  that  the  precept  of  the  Apostle  is  very  neces- 
sary in  our  day  and  in  oiir  country.  He  says  :  "  All  things  are  lawful  to 
me,  but  all  things  are  not  expedient."  I  know  I  have  the  liberty;  I  may 
do  a  multitude  of  things  with  perfect  safety  of  conscience ;  but  I  know 
this — that  it  might  be  an  example  for  others,  which  would  be  dangerous 


232  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

to  them,  and  it  might  also  be  a  danger  to  myself.  At  all  events,  it  is 
more  generous,  it  is  more  in  conformity  with  the  example  set  me  by  my 
Divine  Lord  and  Master,  to  deny  myself  in  many  things  that  are  lawful. 
Apply  this  to  dress,  to  pleasures,  to  amusements,  to  the  expenditure  you 
make  on  yourself,  to  your  domestic  and  private  life,  and  you  will  find  a 
wide  field  for  its  application. 

3.  Once  more.  The  lawlessness  of  our  times  is  to  be  found  in  our  pro- 
fuse worldliness.  What  is  the  world  but  the  aggregate  of  that  wisdom 
of  the  flesh,  which  is  declared  to  be  an  enemy  of  God  ?  The  world  al- 
ways was  and  always  will  be  at  variance  with  the  sanctity,  the  purity,  the 
justice  of  God;  and  therefore  St.  John  says:  "Love  not  the  world,  nor 
the  things  which  are  in  the  world.  If  any  man  love  the  world,  the 
charity  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.  For  all  that  is  in  the  world,  is  the 
concupiscence  of  the  flesh,  and  the  concupiscence  of  the  eyes,  and  the 
pride  of  life,  which  is  not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world."  And  the 
world  is  upon  us  all  who  live  in  it :  its  sun  shines  upon  us,  we  breathe  its 
atmosphere,  we  are  in  contact  with  it,  we  eat  its  food,  we  converse  with  it 
all  the  day  long,  and  happy  are  we  if  we  are  not  tainted  by  it.  Now  for 
the  forms  in  which  the  world  presents  itself  to  us.  First,  in  its  ambitions. 
You  perhaps  will  think  that  ambition  belongs  only  to  public  life.  There 
is  ambition  everywhere,  ambition  in  domestic  life  ;  in  some  form  or  other, 
ambition  in  every  one.  The  desire  to  strain  upward  and  to  strain  on- 
ward, to  possess  more,  to  be  more,  to  rise,  to  get  into  another  place,  on 
another  level,  on  another  elevation,  to  outstrip  neighbors,  to  be  more  than 
they — what  is  this  but  ambition?  We  recognize  it  and  call  it  by  its 
name,  when  it  is  in  great  and  noble  examples,  and  we  are  ashamed  of  it 
when  it  has  manifested  itself  in  the  pettiness  of  our  own  private  life ;  but 
it  is  ambition  still.  And  this  ambition  of  the  world  corrupts  the  hearts 
of  multitudes,  because,  where  this  ambition  is,  a  multitude  of  passions 
spring  up  round  about  it — envies,  jealousies,  rivalries,  contentions,  bicker- 
ings, rash  judgments,  detraction  of  neighbors,  depreciations,  running  down 
those  who  are  competing  with  us  and  perhaps  outstripping  us.  All  this 
is  the  lawlessness  of  the  heart.  Its  passions  are  not  subject  to  the  law  of 
God,  neither,  unless  it  be  changed,  can  be.  These  must  be  cast  out  as  so 
many  unclean  spirits,  before  the  heart  can  be  subject  to  the  law  of  God. 
Another  form  of  worldliness  cleaves  to  the  material  interests  of  men ; 
such  as  rivalries  in  business,  in  trade,  in  commerce,  in  the  haste  to  get 
rich,  in  the  ravenous  buying  and  selling  and  bargaining,  in  the  market,  on 
the  stock  exchange,  in  the  bank,  in  the  counting-house ;  overreaching  of 
neighbors,  gambling  speculations,  enterprises  of  doubtful  integrity,  in 
which  the  conscience  is  strained  and  honor  sacrificed  ;  hardness  to  those 
who  labor,  undue  profits  made  out  of  the  flesh  and  blood  of  those  who 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  233 

are  scantily  paid  for  toil,  and  then,  it  may  be,  fraudulent  actions  with  pub- 
lic ruin,  and  all  coming  from  what  cause  ?  From  the  love  of  money — 
from  that  of  which  the  Holy  Ghost  thus  speaks :  "  The  desire  of  money 
is  the  root  of  all  evils ;  which  some  coveting  after  have  erred  from  the 
faith,  and  have  entangled  themselves  in  many  sorrows."  Such  is  the  end 
of  lawlessness — the  passions,  not  under  the  government  of  holy  fear  and 
of  justice,  tempted  all  day  long  by  the  spirit  of  gain,  in  the  hope  of  laying 
up  and  of  being  rich  in  this  world ;  forgetting  the  warning :  "  They  that 
will  become  rich,  fall  into  temptation,  and  into  the  snare  of  the  devil,  and 
into  many  unprofitable  and  hurtful  desires,  which  drown  men  into  de- 
struction and  perdition."  Now,  is  there  any  country  in  the  world — ex- 
cept, it  may  be,  a  country  which  has  sprung  from  our  own  lineage — in 
which  what  I  have  been  describing  is  to  be  found  more  dominant  and 
more  ruinous  than  in  our  own  ? 

And  there  is  still  another  form  of  worldliness,  which  also  is  a  form  of 
lawlessness ;  that  is,  the  concealing  of  the  law  of  God  and  the  taking  of 
the  laws  of  the  world  instead ;  or,  in  other  words,  the  fear  and  worship 
of  the  world.  The  flattery,  the  adulation,  the  sycophancy,  with  which 
people  will  wait  upon  the  world  to  catch  its  favor,  to  be  admitted  into 
society,  to  sit  at  the  tables  of  rich  men,  to  be  known  as  the  acquaintance 
of  those  who  bear  titled  names,  the  mean  fawning  obsequiousness  of 
those  who  wait  upon  the  world — where  this  is  in  a  man's  heart,  he  is  not 
the  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  Our  Lord  Himself  has  warned  us :  "  How 
can  you  believe,  who  receive  glory  one  from  another,  and  the  glory  which 
is  from  God  alone,  you  do  not  seek  ?  "  The  worship  of  the  world,  and 
the  bondage  of  the  world,  the  fear  of  losing  its  favor,  or  the  fear  of  in- 
curring its  ridicule,  degrades  millions  of  men  who  were  created  to  the 
image  of  God,  and  as  men,  if  not  as  Christians,  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
such  meanness.  Surely,  if  the  law  of  God  were  in  them,  as  a  living  and 
constraining  principle  governing  their  conscience,  it  would  elevate  them 
above  the  world  and  all  its  works. 

4.  One  more  example  of  this  subtle  worldliness  may  be  found  where 
it  is  least  suspected.  It  has 'invaded  not  only  society,  it  has  also  invaded 
religion ;  it  has  entered  into  the  sanctuary.  In  the  beginning.  Christians 
worshipped  God  in  catacombs  at  the  peril  of  their  lives ;  they  offered  the 
Holy  Sacrifice  in  vaults  of  the  earth,  in  damp  dark  caverns  with  altars  of 
rough-hewn  stone,  and  with  lamps  which  hardly  gave  light ;  in  hardness, 
and  in  austerity,  and  in  poverty.  There  was  the  spirit  of  martyrdom  in 
those  days.  Afterward,  when  the  peace  of  the  Church  began,  the  world 
turned  to  shine  upon  it,,  and  the  Church  then  worshipped  God  in  basilicas 
in  the  noonday  sun.  Once,  as  the  Fathers  said,  its  vessels  were  wood  and  its 
priests  were  gold.     Now,  its  vessels  at  least  were  of  gold.     Heresies  and 


234  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

schisms  sprung  up  in  the  midst  of  splendor ;  men  fled  into  the  deserts,  and. 
set  up  once  more  altars  of  stone  and  crucifixes  of  wood,  that  they  might 
worship  God  in  the  severity  and  sanctity  of  spirit  and  of  truth.  External 
splendor  of  worship  is  good,  but  internal  truth  and  reality  in  the  worship 
of  God  is  better.  It  is  right,  indeed,  and  according  both  to  the  Divine 
law  and  to  the  pattern  of  God's  own  appointment,  that  the  noblest  and 
the  best  gifts  of  human  skill  and  of  human  wealth  should  be  consecrated 
to  His  honor.  The  Christian  Church,  as  soon  as  it  was  able  to  follow  the 
example  of  the  saints  of  the  Old  Law,  offered  its  costliest  and  best  to  the 
worship  of  God.  The  murmuring  and  declaiming  that  we  hear  about  the 
simplicity  of  worship  has  in  it  the  spirit  of  him  who  cast  up  for  how  much 
the  ointment  might  have  been  sold  ;  not  that  he  cared  for  the  poor.  This 
carping  against  the  Catholic  Church  for  the  splendor  of  its  worship  covers 
a  disposition  to  carp  against  the  truth.  No,  the  Church  of  God  by  its 
history  bears  witness  that  the  service  of  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth  re- 
quires no  external  splendor.  It  accepts,  indeed,  all  that  the  art  of  man 
can  do  in  architecture,  in  painting,  in  sculpture,  in  music,  because  all 
these  come  from  God  and  ought  to  be  consecrated  to  God.  The  warn- 
ing of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet  rings  in  the  ears  of  Christians :  "  Is  it 
time  for  you  to  dwell  in  ceiled  houses,  and  this  house  lie  desolate?  "  It 
is  true  of  us  also  that  the  wealth  spent  upon  the  private  dwellings  of  men 
exceeds  ten  thousand-fold  that  which  is  spent  upon  the  honor  and  wor- 
ship of  God.  The  Church,  therefore,  both  consecrates  all  things  to  God's 
service,  and  also  sustains  the  same  spirit  of  austere  interior  worship  as  in 
the  beginning  ;  and  the  Church  has  in  all  ages,  by  its  chief  Orders,  kept 
up  its  testimony  that  the  worship  of  God,  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  does  not 
need  external  splendor.  St.  Francis  laid  down  as  the  law  for  his  children 
— the  most  numerous  family  in  the  Catholic  Church — that  upon  the  altar 
there  should  be  candlesticks  of  wood,  and  that  the  vestments  of  the  priest 
should  have  no  silk.  You  will  not  misunderstand  me,  then,  when  I  say 
that  the  spirit  of  the  world  will  often  enter  into  the  splendor  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  that  the  sounds  which  fill  the  ear,  and  the  beauty  which  fills- 
the  eye,  may  take  away  the  heart  and  the  fiiind.  Unless  there  be  the 
spirit  of  prater  and  union  with  our  Divine  Lord  in  the  heart,  men  may 
come  and  go  without  worshipping  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  This  is 
one  of  our  most  subtle  dangers.  Satan  knows  well  how  to  pass  off  the 
intellectual  simulation  of  religious  opinion  for  Divine  faith  ;  how  to  pass 
off  imaginative  dreamings  about  the  perfections  of  saints  for  practical 
obedience ;  how  to  fill  men's  imaginations  with  ideas  of  asceticism  while 
their  lives  are  self-indulgent ;  and  to  make  even  the  splendors,  sweetness, 
beauty,  and  majesty  of  Catholic  worship  a  fascination  of  the  sense  and  a 
distraction  of  the  soul.    The  tempter  is  always  busy,  and  nowhere  changes 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  235 

himself  into  an  angel  of  light  so  easily  as  in  church.  Now,  I  ask,  have 
you  been  enough  on  your  guard  against  this?  The  Catholic  Church, 
lavish  as  it  is  in  all  splendors,  because  all  things  are  due  to  Him  who  is 
the  Giver  of  all,  has  sure  and  deep  correctives  to  recall  its  children  from 
the  mere  fascinations  of  sense  by  the  eye,  or  the  ear,  or  the  imagination, 
to  the  presence  of  God.  Where  Jesus  is  present  in  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment, no  splendor  can  easily  withdraw  the  mind  from  Him  ;  or  if  any 
become  lukewarm,  there  is  a  prompt  and  strong  remedy  in  the  confessional. 
They  who  live  in  spirit  and  in  truth  will  adore  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  as 
well  in  the  majesty  of  a  basilica  as  in  the  austerity  of  a  catacomb.  The 
interior  spirit  vivifies  all  exterior  forms.  Ceremonies  are  a  mere  mask  to 
the  unbelieving  and  the  undevout.  They  are  the  folds  of  the  Divine 
Presence,  the  countenance  of  the  unseen  Majesty,  to  those  that  believe 
and  love. 

5.  The  last  and  the  only  other  point  on  which  I  will  speak  is  one 
which  threatens  us  all,  and  that  is,  compromise.  The  days  in  which  we 
live  are  not  days  of  firmness.  People  who  still  retain  a  belief  in  revela- 
tion nevertheless  hear  so  much  against  dogma,  that  they  are  often 
tempted  to  use  the  same  language,  and  to  disclaim  dogmatism.  They 
hear  so  much  said  against  asceticism,  that  they  try  to  show  their  freedom 
from  it  by  a  liberty  which  is  dangerous.  But  religion  without  dogma  is 
not  Christianity,  and  religion  without  asceticism  is  not  the  religion  by 
which  we  can  be  saved.  The  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  began  in  the 
preaching  of  John :  **  Do  penance ;  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand."  There  can  be  no  repentance  without  the  mortification  of  the 
senses.  The  times  in  which  we  live  are  perhaps,  of  all  times  since  the 
beginning  of  the  Church,  tRe  least  ascetic.  The  luxury,  the  worldliness, 
the  superabundance  of  all  that  is  grand  and  beautiful  even  in  the  external 
worship  of  the  Church,  may  help  to  lead  men  away.  The  fault  indeed  is 
theirs.  They  can  turn  anything  into  temp'tation ;  everything  will  be  a. 
snare  if  they  will  not  correct  it  by  a  spirit  of  obedience  to  the  law  of  God. 
Now,  there  are  many  marks  of  this  shallow  mind  among  us.  First,  there 
is  little  mortification  of  the  intellect :  the  intellect  ranges  without  check 
and  without  limit ;  men  read  every  book  that  comes  to  hand,  every  news- 
paper they  find  on  the  table.  They  do  not  ask  whether  it  is  for  the 
Faith,  or  against  the  Faith ;  is  it  heretical,  or  is  it  sound ;  is  it  pure,  or  is 
it  impure.  They  begin  without  discrimination ;  they  read  on  without 
fear;  they  find  the  book  to  be  heretical,  erroneous,  scandalous,  licentious, 
and  yet  they  do  not  burn  it ;  they  do  not  even  put  it  down.  The  Catho- 
lic Church  strictly  and  wisely  prohibits  the  reading  of  any  books  that  are 
written  by  those  who  have  fallen  from  the  Faith,  or  teach  a  false  doc- 
trine, or  impugn  the  Faith,  or  defend  errors.     And  that  for  this  plain 


236  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

and  sound  reason :  the  Church  knows  very  well  that  it  is  not  one  in  a 
thousand  who  is  able  to  unravel  the  subtlety  of  infidel  objections.  How 
many  of  you  have  gone  through  for  yourselves  the  evidence  upon  which 
the  authenticity,  genuineness,  and  inspiration  of  the  Book  of  Daniel 
rests?  Have  you  verified  the  canon  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament?  or 
have  you  mastered  the  philosophical  refutation  of  Atheism  ?  Would  you 
advise  your  children  to  read  sceptical  criticisms  of  Holy  Scripture,  or  the 
arguments  of  Deists?  If  not,  why  read  them  yourselves?  You  know 
perfectly  well  that  the  human  mind  is  capable  of  creating  many  difficul- 
ties of  which  it  is  incapable  of  finding  a  solution.  The  most  crude  and 
ignorant  mind  is  capable  of  taking  in  what  can  be  said  against  truth. 
Destruction  is  easy;  construction  needs  time,  industry,  and  care.  To 
gather  evidence,  or  to  ascertain  the  traditions  of  the  Church,  needs  learn- 
ing and  labor,  of  which  only  they  are  capable  whose  life  is  given  to  it. 

This  indiscriminate  and  fearless  reading  is  intellectual  license ;  but  if 
the  intellect  be  not  mortified,  where  will  be  the  mortification  of  the  will  ? 
Look  at  society,  as  it  is  called.  What  signs  are  there  of  mortification  of 
the  will  amongst  us  ?  When  do  men  willingly  forego  anything  which  is 
for  their  interest  or  their  pleasure?  When  do  they  leave  anything  un- 
done simply  for  conscience,  or  do  anything  contrary  to  their  interest  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ?  I  am  afraid  that  it  is  the  individual  and  the 
unit  that  does  these  things.  But  is  this  religion  without  the  Cross  the 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ?  Let  us  put  it  to  the  test.  Take  the  Holy 
Scriptures  in  your  hands,  read  them  as  they  stand,  do  not  explain  them 
away :  they  are  the  word  of  God.  Do  not  say  it  only  means  this,  or  it 
only  means  that.  It  means  what  it  says — what  God  has  written— and 
nothing  else.  Now  hear  what  is  written  :  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that 
have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God !  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to 
pass  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God."  Again,  our  Lord  has  said :  "  Woe  to  you  that  are 
rich  ;  for  you  have  received  your  consolation."  Again,  He  said  :  "  En- 
ter ye  in  at  the  narrow  gate;  for  wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  is  the  way 
that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many  they  are  who  go  in  thereat.  How 
narrow  is  the  gate,  and  strait  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  life ;  and  few 
there  are  that  find  it."  And  once  more,  when  a  man  asked  Him :  Are 
they  few  that  are  saved  ?  He  said :  "  Strive  to  enter  in  by  the  narrow 
gate ;  for  many,  I  say  to  you,  shall  seek  to  enter,  and  shall  not  be  able. 
But  when  the  master  of  the  house  shall  be  gone  in,  and  shall  shut  to  the 
door,  you  shall  begin  to  stand  without,  and  knock  at  the  door,  saying. 
Lord,  open  to  us :  and  he  answering  shall  say  to  you,  I  know  you  not, 
whence  you  are."  Once  more.  He  says :  "  Whosoever  doth  not  carry  his 
cross  and  come  after  me,  cannot  be  my  disciple." 


CARDINAL  MANNING. 


237 


These  are  the  warnings  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Take  the  crucifix 
in  your  hand,  and  ask  yourselves  whether  this  is  the  reHgion  of  the  soft, 
easy,  worldly,  luxurious  days  in  which  we  live ;  whether  the  crucifix  does 
not  teach  you  a  lesson  of  mortification,  of  self-denial,  of  crucifixion  of 
the  flesh,  with  its  aff"ections  and  lusts,  as  the  Apostle  says ;  or  as  our 
Divine  Lord  Himself  has  said :  "  If  thy  right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it 
off  and  cast  it  from  thee.  If  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out  and 
cast  it  from  thee :  for  it  is  better  to  enter  into  life  having  one  eye  and 
one  hand,  than  having  two  eyes  and  two  hands  to  be  cast  into  hell-fire." 
These  are  the  words  of  God,  of  Jesus,  our  merciful,  loving,  compassionate 
Lord.  They  are  not  the  words  of  severe  and  heartless  men.  They  are 
the  words  of  Divine  pity,  warning  us  that  "  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  is 
death,"  because  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh  is  an  enemy  against  God,  and 
cannot  be  subject  to  the  law  of  God. 

Let  us,  then,  be  on  our  guard  against  these  things  which,  in  their 
subtlety  and  strength,  have  power  over  us  all.  If  we  had  one  foot  in 
heaven,  and  were  to  leave  off  mortifying  ourselves,  we  should  fall 
from  grace. 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  ANTICHRIST. 

-"  If  the  world  hate  you,  know  ye  that  it  hath  hated  me  before  you.  If  you  had  been 
of  the  world,  the  world  would  love  its  own ;  but  because  you  are  not  of  the 
world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world  hateth 
you."— St.  John  xv.  i8,  19. 

jASK  it  as  we  may,  there  is  an  irreconcilable  enmity  between 
God  and  the  world.  The  Christian  world  may  put  on  the 
vestments  and  bear  the  name  of  Christianity,  but  it  is  the 
world  after  all.  Not  that  there  is  enmity  on  God's  part 
against  the  world ;  for  "  God  so  loved  the  world  as  to  give  His  only- 
begotten  Son ;  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him,  may  not  perish,  but 
may  have  life  everlasting."  But  "  the  friendship  of  this  world  is  an 
enemy  against  God,"  as  we  have  already  seen,  because  it  is  not  subject 
to  the  law  of  God,  nor  can  be. 

This,  then,  is  the  meaning  of  our  Lord's  words  when  He  said  to  the 
Apostles,  who  were  becoming  daily  conscious  of  the  hatred  of  men 
against  them :  "  If  the  world  hate  you,  know  ye  that  it  hath  hated  me 
before  you."  If  you  had  been  of  the  world — servants,  friends,  flatterers 
of  the  world — the  world  would  have  loved  its  own,  it  would  have  rec- 
ognized its  own  reflection,  its  own  mind,  its  own  livery ;  but  because  you 
are  not  of  the  world,  but  I,  by  grace  and  special  election,  have  chosen 
you  out  of  the  world,  therefore,  for  that  very  reason,  because  you  have 
my  mark,  because  you  bear  my  name,  because,  in  some  degree,  you  share 
my  likeness ;  therefore  the  world  hateth  you.  This  enmity  is  perpetual : 
it  exists  at  this  day,  it  will  exist  to  the  end.  Between  God  and  the  world 
there  may  be  an  apparent  truce ;  there  never  can  be  peace.  God  is  im- 
mutable; His  perfections  cannot  change.  The  world  is  malicious,  and 
from  its  malice  it  will  not  change ;  and  therefore,  as  the  Apostle  says, 
"  What  participation  hath  justice  with  injustice  ?  what  concord  hath 
Christ  with  Belial?"  God,  then,  when  manifest  in  the  flesh,  in  the  per- 
son of  the  eternal  Son,  was  the  object  of  the  world's  chief  hatred ;  and 
the  world,  after  wreaking  upon  Him  all  that  scorn,  derision,  insults  could 
effect,  nailed  Him  upon  the  cross.  The  shame  and  the  passion  of  the 
Incarnate  Son  of  God  has  been  the  inheritance  of  His  Church.  For 
what  is  the  Church  of  Christ  but  the  body  of  Christ  ?  Or,  in  other  words, 
it  is  Christ  mystical,  the  mystical  person  made  up,  as  St.  Augustine  says, 
(288) 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  239 

of  the  divine  Head  in  heaven  and  of  the  body  spread  throughout  the 
world ;  "  one  man,  one  collective  person."  The  enmity  and  the  hatred 
which  the  world  bore  to  Him  has  descended  from  generation  to  gener- 
ation, as  the  heirloom  of  His  body.  This,  then,  is  Christ.  Now  what  is 
Antichrist  ? 

In  the  beginning  I  disclaimed  all  intention  of  entering  into  the  expo- 
sition of  unfulfilled  prophecies.  I  am  speaking  of  patent  facts  under  our 
■eyes.  They  are  sufficient,  because  they  give  us  principles  and  warnings 
to  govern  our  conduct.  Nevertheless,  I  must  say,  in  passing,  that  if 
there  be  anything  evident  in  the  plain  words  of  Holy  Scripture,  if  there 
be  anything  explicitly  declared  by  the  Christian  Fathers,  and  anything 
distinctly  taught  by  the  theologians  of  the  Church,  it  is  this :  that  Anti- 
christ, though  taken  to  express  a  diffused  spirit  which  pervades  systems 
and  incorporates  itself  in  various  forms  in  all  ages,  nevertheless  will  be, 
toward  the  latter  days,  impersonated  in  one  who  shall  be  the  head  and 
the  chief  of  that  Antichristian  spirit  and  system,  and  shall  use  all  his 
power  against  the  Name  and  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  I  now 
set  aside,  as  being  beyond  my  purpose.  I  am  speaking  of  the  Anti- 
christian spirit  which  manifests  itself  either  in  individuals  or  in  whole 
systems,  sometimes  in  whole  nations.  Just  as  the  electricity  which  is 
suspended  in  the  air  is  breathed  unconsciously,  so  the  Antichristian  spirit 
exists  in  what  is  called  the  Christian  world  in  its  present  fragmentary 
and  divided  state.  And  this  is  the  subject  with  which  I  must  conclude 
that  which  I  have  endeavored,  but  very  imperfectly,  to  say. 

I  have  already  drawn  out  before  you  the  distinction  between  the 
world  as  it  was  before  it  had  faith  in  Christ,  and  as  it  became  when  the 
Christian  Faith  was  received  by  the  nations  which  were  federated  in 
what  we  call  Christendom;  and  lastly,  as  it  is  now,  since  the  world,  hav- 
ing once  been  Christian,  has  for  the  last  three  hundred  years  been  ceasing 
to  be  so. 

Now,  the  Apostle  has  given  us  three  marks  of  this  final  and  Anti- 
christian apostasy  from  the  Faith.  The  first  mark  is  given  by  St.  John, 
where  he  says  that  "  they  went  out  from  us,  but  they  were  not  of  us;  for 
if  they  had  been  of  us,  they  would  no  doubt  have  remained  with  us  "; 
that  is  to  say,  separation  or  schism,  actual  and  visible  departure  from  the 
unity  of  the  Church.  The  second  mark  is  a  denial  of  the  Incarnation  of 
the  Son  of  God.  St.  John  says  in  his  second  epistle :  "  Many  seducers 
are  gone  out  into  the  world,  who  confess  not  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come 
in  the  flesh.  This  is  a  seducer  and  an  antichrist."  The  third  mark  is 
given  by  St.  Jude:  "These  are  they  who  separate  themselves,  sensual 
men,"  which  word  signifies,  in  the  original,  men  of  natural  intellect  and 
natural  reason  ;  it  does  not  necessarily  mean  sensual  in  the  grosser  sense, 


240  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

though  it  leads  to  it.  "  These  are  they  who  separate  themselves,  sensual^ 
not  having  the  Spirit,"  that  is,  they  reject  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  work 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  world.  This  third  mark  is  the  rejection 
of  the  revelation  of  the  day  of  Pentecost,  with  all  those  truths,  laws, 
and  authorities,  which  took  their  rise  from  the  coming  of  the  Spirit  of 
Truth.  These  then  are  the  three  marks  of  the  world  departing  from 
Christianity. 

If  you  look  back  over  the  last  three  hundred  years,  you  will  see  that 
whole  nations  have  departed  from  the  visible  unity  of  the  Church.  They 
have  come  to  deny  that  any  visible  unity  was  ever  instituted ;  they  deny 
their  separation  by  denying  the  law.  "  Where  there  is  no  law,  there  is  no 
transgression,"  the  Apostle  says ;  and  it  is  necessary  to  deny  the  law  of 
unity  in  order  to  justify  the  separation.  Springing  up  from  those  bodies 
separated  from  the  unity  of  the  Church  has  come,  first,  Socinianism  or 
Unitarianism,  as  it  is  commonly  called — rejection  of  the  mystery  of  the 
Most  Holy  Trinity,  of  the  Godhead  of  the  Incarnate  Son,  of  the  work  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  first  in  His  Divine  authority,  perpetually  and 
infallibly  guiding  and  speaking  through  the  Church  ;  next,  in  His  opera- 
tion through  the  Holy  Sacraments ;  and  thirdly.  His  workings  of  grace 
in  the  individual  soul.  How  extensively,  both  in  speculation  and  in 
practice,  these  truths  are  at  this  time  rejected  by  many  who  retain  the 
name  of  Christians,  you  well  know.  And  once  more,  if  you  look  at  na- 
tions in  which  these  departures  from  truth  are  to  be  found,  you  will  find 
that  the  whole  course  of  legislation  for  the  last  three  hundred  years  has 
been,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  a  perpetual  departure  from  the  laws 
of  Christianity.  Forasmuch,  then,  as  men  are  interminably  and  irrecon- 
cilably divided,  it  is  impossible  that  the  legislature  can  touch  upon  mat- 
ters of  Christianity  or  of  religion  without  conflicting  with  the  private  con- 
victions or  the  private  opinions  of  some  men  or  some  bodies  of  men  ;  and 
therefore  the  civil  powers  of  the  world  in  despair  have  taken  refuge  in 
the  policy  of  eliminating  and  excluding  altogether  from  the  public  laws 
of  the  land  all  reference  to  anything  but  those  fundamental  moral  axioms 
which  are  to  be  found  not  only  in  Christianity,  but,  almost  without  ex- 
ception, in  the  order  of  nature. 

There  is  to  be  found  in  such  individuals  as  I  have  been  describing, 
in  such  nations  and  in  such  governments,  a  worldly  character,  which  par- 
takes of  the  Antichristian  spirit.  These  may  seem  to  be  harsh  and  severe 
terms,  but  "  he  that  is  not  with  me,  is  against  me."  They  are  the  words 
of  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  There  is  no  neutrality  in  matters  of  faith  ;  and 
the  tendency  of  all  peoples,  nations,  and  governments  that  have  ceased 
to  legislate  positively  in  a  Christian  sense,  is  to  legislate  at  last  in  a  sense 
that  is,  first  beside,  then  contrary  to,  Christianity. 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  241 

What  I  have  now  to  do  is  to  draw  out  the  particular  points  in 
which  the  Antichristian  spirit  is  to  be  found  working  in  society,  and 
therefore  round  about  us. 

I.  The  first  illustration  I  will  give  is  this:  the  impatience  of  all  re- 
vealed authority,  as  entering  in  any  degree  into  the  control  of  the  thoughts 
or  the  will  of  men,  or  into  the  action  of  government.  There  is  a  disposi- 
tion in  public  opinion,  and  in  public  men,  and  in  the  masses,  to  say: 
"  Politics  have  nothing  to  do  with  religion."  This  I  have  answered  be- 
fore ;  and  I  am  going  on  to  show  one  more  application  of  this  false  maxim. 
It  is  commonly  said,  that  what  is  called  "  dogma  "  is  a  limitation  of  the 
liberty  of  the  human  reason ;  that  it  is  degrading  to  a  rational  being  to 
allow  his  intellect  to  be  limited  by  dogmatic  Christianity ;  that  liberty  of 
thought,  liberty  of  discovery,  the  progress  of  advancing  truth,  apply 
equally  to  Christianity,  if  it  be  true,  as  to  all  other  kinds  of  truth ;  and 
therefore  a  man,  when  he  allows  his  intellect  to  be  subjected  by  dogma, 
has  allowed  himself  to  be  brought  into  an  intellectual  bondage.  Well, 
now,  let  me  test  the  accuracy  and  the  value  of  this  supposed  axiom. 
The  science  of  astronomy  has  been  a  traditional  science  for  I  know  not 
how  many  generations  of  men.  It  has  been  perpetually  advancing,  ex- 
panding, testing,  completing  its  discoveries,  and  demonstrating  the  truth 
of  its  theories  and  its  inductions.  Now,  every  single  astronomical  truth 
imposes  a  limit  upon  the  intellect  of  man.  When  once  the  truth  has  been 
demonstrated  there  is  no  further  question  about  it.  The  intellect  of  man 
is  thenceforward  limited  in  respect  of  that  truth.  He  cannot  any  longer 
contradict  it  without  losing  his  dignity  as  a  man  of  science — I  might  say, 
as  a  rational  creature.  It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  certainty  of  every 
scientific  truth  imposes  a  certain  limitation  upon  the  intellect ;  and  yet 
scientific  men  tell  us  that,  in  proportion  as  science  is  expanded  by  new 
discoveries  and  new  demonstrations,  the  field  of  knowledge  is  increased. 
Well,  then,  I  ask,  in  the  name  of  common  justice  and  of  common  sense, 
why  may  I  not  apply  this  to  revelation  ?  If  the  possession  of  a  scientific 
truth,  with  its  complete  scientific  accuracy,  be  not  a  limitation,  and  is 
therefore  no  degradation  of  the  human  intellect,  but  an  elevation  and  an 
expansion  of  its  range,  why  should  the  defined  and  precise  doctrines  of 
revelation  be  a  bondage  against  which  the  intellect  of  man  ought  to 
rebel  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  afifirm  that  every  revealed  doctrine  is  a  limita- 
tion imposed  upon  the  field  of  error.  The  regions  in  which  men  may  err 
become  narrower,  because  the  boundaries  of  truth  are  pushed  farther, 
and  the  field  of  truth  is  enlarged.  The  liberty  of  the  human  intellect  is 
therefore  greater,  because  it  is  in  possession  of  a  greater  inheritance  of 
certainty.  And  yet,  if  there  be  one  superstition  which  at  the  present 
day  is  undermining  more  than  any  other  the  faith  of  men,  it  is  the  no- 


242  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

tion  that  belief  in  the  positive  dogma  of  Christianity  is  a  slavish  limita- 
tion of  the  intellectual  freedom  of  man. 

Once  more,  it  is  said  that  the  revealed  morality  of  Christianity  is  a 
limitation  of  the  freedom  of  the  human  will.  I  must  ask  your  forbear- 
ance for  speaking  of  such  a  topic  to  you ;  for  I  ought  to  suppose  that 
there  is  no  one  here  so  darkened,  I  must  say,  in  heart  as  well  as  in  under- 
standing as  to  think  that  Christian  morality,  by  limiting  the  actions  and 
even  the  thoughts,  and  regulating  the  freedom  of  the  will,  imposes  upon 
them  a  bondage  unworthy  of  men.  Nevertheless,  there  are  some  who 
cry  out  against  the  laws  of  morality  which  are  taught  by  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ,  as  being  an  interference  with  human  liberty.  Now,  what 
does  the  morality  of  the  Christian  law  forbid  ?  First,  all  things  that  are 
unjust.  Surely,  no  man  will  plead  for  a  liberty  to  act  unjustly.  Second- 
ly, all  things  that  are  hurtful  to  himself  or  to  his  neighbor.  A  man  will 
not  plead  for  liberty  to  do  hurt  to  his  neighbor.  Will  he  plead  for  liberty 
to  do  hurt  to  himself?  to  commit  suicide,  for  instance — that  is,  for  the 
jiberty  of  self-murder?  Lastly,  it  forbids  the  commission  of  those  things 
that  are  mortal  before  God,  of  acts  that  are  deadly  in  their  consequences. 
In  the  name  of  reason  I  would  ask  you,  is  there  any  limit  imposed  upon 
the  liberty  of  men  in  taking  from  them  the  freedom  to  drink  poison,  and 
laying  upon  them  the  bondage  of  living  on  food  ?  And  yet  the  laws  of 
the  Church  impose  no  other  limitation  on  any  man.  Nevertheless,  the 
spirit  of  insubordinate  intellect  and  insubordinate  will,  fostered  by  schism 
and  by  unbelief,  is  spreading  fast  at  this  day ;  and  men  are  crying  out 
against  the  authority  of  revelation  as  a  yoke  and  a  bondage. 

And  it  is  further  said,  that  revelation  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  civil 
authority  of  the  world.  I  hope  that  I  have  already  given  reason  enough 
for  affirming  that  the  civil  authority  of  the  world,  if  it  be  not  founded 
upon  revelation,  is,  nevertheless,  so  guided,  confirmed,  and  strengthened 
by  it,  that  it  cannot  long  subsist  without  it.  If  it  lose  the  support  and 
guidance  of  revelation,  it  soon  falls  into  the  natural  order,  with  all  the 
penalties  of  dissolution.  Now,  what  limit  does  revelation  impose  upon 
the  civil  power?  It  limits  authority,  in  those  that  bear  it,  to  the 
execution  of  justice  and  mercy ;  it  forbids  tyranny  and  despotism.  It 
limits  the  freedom  of  subjects  by  the  law  of  conscience,  to  obedience  and 
submission ;  and  it  teaches  man  to  observe  the  equal  rights  of  other  men 
and  the  duties  which  he  owes  to  his  fellows.  It  teaches  to  all  men  the 
sacred  law  which  lies  at  the  base  of  all  just  legislation :  "  Do  to  others  as 
you  would  have  men  do  to  you."  These  are  the  primary  laws  of  justice 
and  of  charity.  I  ask  whether  these  are  limitations  hostile  to  the  freedom 
or  to  the  prosperity  of  States?  In  one  word,  the  only  conservative  spirit, 
a  phrase  we  hear  even  to  weariness — that  which  alone  upholds,  confirms. 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  243 

and  renders  indissoluble  the  civil  society  of  mankind — is  Christianity,  or 
the  revelation  and  the  laws  of  Jesus  Christ.  Nevertheless,  if  there  be 
anything  which  the  public  opinion  of  most  countries,  separated  from  the 
unity  of  the  Church — and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  the  public  opinion  of  some 
countries  which  profess  still  to  be  within  that  unity — resents,  it  is  the 
entrance  of  the  laws  of  revelatiqn  into  the  sphere  of  their  legislature. 
I  shall  not  say  too  much  by  adding,  that  there  exists  a  widespread 
animosity  against  the  one  only  Church  which  will  not  accept  of  royal  or 
legislative  supremacy.  There  is  in  the  world  one  Church  which  has  never 
accepted  of  royal  supremacy  in  faith  or  morals.  It  has  never  accepted  Acts 
of  Parliament  or  legislative  enactments  as  superior  to  its  own  canonical 
legislation  and  to  its  own  spiritual  executive.  Now,  I  believe,  that  is  the 
only  Church  against  which  public  animosity  and  even  private  hostility  is 
levelled  in  any  marked  degree.  All  other  bodies  are  treated  as  national, 
domestic,  and  innocuous.  They  are  not  to  be  feared.  If  they  have  a 
will  of  their  own,  they  have  no  power  to  exert  it.  But  the  Church  which 
absolutely  refuses  the  supremacy  of  all  civil  powers  is  looked  upon  at 
once  as  aggression,  invasion,  and  a  menace  to  the  supreme  authority  of 
public  opinion,  and,  it  may  be,  of  princes. 

2.  Why  is  this  ?  In  one  word,  because  the  enmity  which  assails  revela- 
tion falls  upon  it  chiefly  as  incorporated  in  the  Church.  It  exists  there 
as  in  a  definite,  visible,  palpable  form.  In  the  sphere  of  intellect  men 
cannot  lay  their  hands  on  revelation.  It  is,  likev  the  light  of  day, 
impalpable.  In  the  order  and  the  sphere  of  ideas  it  is  intangible 
altogether;  but,  embodied  in  the  Church,  it  becomes  a  visible  and 
palpable  impersonation,  standing  in  the  place  of  its  Divine  Head,  on 
whom  men  laid  their  hands  while  He  was  within  arm's  length.  But  now, 
at  the  right  hand  of  God,  He  is  beyond  their  reach.  His  body,  however, 
is  here ;  and  therefore  He  cried  out  to  Saul  on  the  way  to  Damascus, 
"Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me?" — that  is  to  say,  His  Church 
upon  earth  is  Himself.  The  same  spirit,  therefore,  which  was  directed 
against  Him  while  He  was  within  the  reach  of  men  is  now  directed 
against  His  Church,  which  is  still  palpable  and  within  their  grasp.  It 
incorporates  dogma,  it  enforces  discipline,  it  wields  authority,  it  legislates, 
it  decrees,  it  inflicts  censures,  it  sits  in  judgment  upon  the  conduct  of 
men,  of  private  persons,  of  professors,  of  nations,  of  princes.  Come 
what  may,  it  will  not  be  silent.  Let  men  threaten  as  they  will,  it  still 
speaks  as  the  Prince  of  the  Apostles,  who  said :  "  If  it  be  just  in  the  sight 
of  God  to  hear  you  rather  than  God,  judge  ye." 

This  Divine  liberty  of  speech,  which  began  in  the  lips  of  the  Son  of 
God  Himself,  passed  to  His  Apostles,  and  from  them  has  passed  to  His 
Church.     It  has  spoken  freely  throughout  all  ages,  and  throughout  all 


244  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  world.  The  prerogatives  of  the  Church  are  especially  offensive  to  the 
world.  Our  Lord  said  to  the  chief  of  the  Apostles,  and  through  him  to 
them  all,  and  through  them  to  their  successors  to  the  end  of  the  world : 
"  I  will  give  to  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  whatsoever 
thou  shalt  bind  upon  earth,  it  shall  be  bound  also  in  heaven ;  and 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  upon  earth,  it  shall  be  loosed  also  in  heaven." 
We  do  not  explain  away  these  words.  We  teach  them  as  we  received 
them  from  our  Divine  Master.  They  mean  that  what  the  authority  of 
His  Church  binds  on  earth,  is  by  Him  ratified  in  heaven ;  that  there  is  a 
twofold  and  concurrent  action,  which  in  effect  is  identical,  between  the 
authority  of  the  Church  on  earth,  and  the  authority  of  its  Divine  Head 
in  heaven.  And  therefore,  when  the  Apostle  said,  "  If  any  man  love  not 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  anathema  maranatha,"  he  pronounced 
a  judicial  sentence  which  had  its  effect,  though  it  was  not  yet  seen  to 
follow,  as  when  our  Divine  Master  said  to  the  barren  fig-tree,  "  May  no 
fruit  grow  on  thee  henceforward  forever,"  and  the  fig-tree  withered  away ; 
and  as  when  Peter  rebuked  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  his  sentence  was 
straightway  executed.  We  may  not  see,  indeed,  these  palpable  and 
immediate  results ;  but  we  know  with  Divine  certainty  that  the  effects 
of  excommunication  will  surely  follow.  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians 
the  Apostle,  writing  of  the  incestuous  man,  said:  "  I,  indeed  absent  in 
body,  but  present  in  spirit,  have  already  judged,  as  though  I  were 
present,  him  who  hath  so  done :  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
you  being  gathered  together  with  my  spirit,  with  the  power  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  to  deliver  such  a  one  to  Satan  for  the  destruction  of  the 
flesh,  that  the  spirit  may  be  saved  in  the  day  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
These  are  not  empty  threats ;  they  are  judicial  pronouncements  of  a 
Divine  authority.  Will  any  one  tell  me  that  this  power  has  ceased  in  the 
world?  Read  the  history  of  sacrilege  against  the  Holy  See;  or  read,  if 
you  will,  the  history  of  sacrilege  written  by  a  well-known  writer  of  the 
Church  of  England  two  hundred  years  ago,  who  believed  this  Christian 
law,  and  verified  it  in  the  history  of  those  who,  three  hundred  years  back, 
committed  or  partook  of  sacrilege  in  England.  Search  through  history, 
and  find  me  an  example  of  sacrilege  which  has  not  sooner  or  later  met 
its  doom.  There  is  a  God  who  judgeth  the  earth;  and  He  judges  it 
through  those  laws  which  He  incorporated  in  the  authority  of  His 
Church.  He  executes  His  judgments  by  His  own  Divine  providence, 
when  and  how  He  wills.  Now  against  that  which  I  have  said,  there  is  a 
spirit  of  hostility  and  contempt,  at  least  assumed.  I  say  assumed  con- 
tempt; because,  under  the  appearance  of  derision,  there  is  a  sharpness  in 
the  tone  which  shows  the  animosity  of  fear. 

3.  There  is  yet  another  kind  of  Antichristian  enmity,  which  finds  its 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  245 

way  into  the  hearts  of  many  who  would  be  startled  and  wounded  if  they 
were  told  that  their  spirit  is  Antichristian.  Tf  there  be  a  subject  against 
which  public  writers,  public  speakers,  and  public  talkers  are  perpetually 
declaiming,  it  is  what  is  called  the  religious  life — the  life  of  monks  and 
of  nuns.  The  whole  literature  of  countries  that  are  not  Catholic  is  full 
of  all  manner  of  tales,  calumnies,  slanders,  fables,  fictions,  absurdities,  on 
the  subject  of  monks  and  nuns.  Now,  why  should  men  trouble  them- 
selves so  much  about  it  ?  Why  cannot  they  leave  peaceful  people  to  use 
their  own  liberty  ?  No  man  or  woman  is  compelled  to  be  monk  or  nun  ; 
and  if  by  perversion  of  light,  if  by  idiocy,  as  the  world  calls  it,  any  should 
be  found  who  desire  to  live  the  life  of  monk  or  nun,  why  should  public 
opinion  trouble  itself  so  much  about  the  matter?  Men  may  become 
Mormons  ;  they  may  settle  down  at  Salt  Lake  ;  they  may  join  any  sect ; 
they  may  adopt  any  practices  which  do  not  bring  them  under  the  hands 
of  the  police,  and  the  public  opinion  of  this  country  does  not  trouble  it- 
self about  them.  What,  then,  is  the  reason  why  it  troubles  itself  about 
the  religious  life  ?  Because  it  is  a  life  of  perfection  ;  because  it  is  a  life 
which  is  a  rebuke  to  the  world,  a  direct  and  diametrical  contradiction  of 
the  axioms  and  maxims  by  which  the  world  governs  itself.  The  world  is 
therefore  conscious  of  the  rebuke,  and  uneasy  under  that  consciousness. 
When  the  Son  of  God  came  into  the  world,  all  men  turned  against  Him 
except  the  few  whom  He  called  to  be  His  disciples.  Even  a  heathen 
philosopher  has  recorded  this  belief :  that  if  a  perfectly  just  man  were 
ever  to  be  seen  on  earth,  he  would  be  out  of  place  and  a  wonder ;  or,  as 
we  may  say,  a  monster  amongst  men.  And  why?  Because,  in  the  uni- 
versal injustice  of  mankind,  he  would  stand  alone,  and  his  life  would  be  a 
rebuke.  In  Holy  Scripture  this  is  described,  as  it  were,  with  a  pencil  of 
light.  In  the  Book  of  Wisdom,  the  men  of  this  world  say  :  "  Let  us  lie 
in  wait  for  the  just ;  because  he  is  not  for  our  turn,  and  he  is  contrary  to 
our  doings,  and  upbraideth  us  with  transgressions  of  the  law,  and  di- 
vulgeth  against  us  the  sins  of  our  way  of  life ;  ....  he  abstaineth  from 
our  ways  as  from  filthiness,  and  he  preferreth  the  latter  end  of  the  just ; 
.  .  .  .  he  calleth  himself  the  Son  of  God  ;  ....  he  is  grievous  unto  us  even 
to  behold."  The  finger  of  the  Holy  Spirit  has  here  traced  the  real  analysis 
of  this  animosity  against  the  religious  life.  Some  years  ago  I  remember 
reading  a  paper  upon  "The  Extinct  Virtues,"  and  what  were  they? 
Obedience,  chastity,  voluntary  poverty.  If  so,  then,  the  eight  beatitudes 
are  extinct.  I  do  not  suppose  the  world  would  accept  this.  They  would 
count  me  a  severe  and  an  unjust  accuser  if  I  were  to  say  that  disorder, 
unchastity,  and  the  love  of  riches  are  the  ascendent  virtues  of  modern 
society.  But  if  obedience,  chastity,  and  voluntary  poverty  are  extinct, 
their  opposites  must  be  in  the  ascendent.     Of  this  I  am  sure :  that  the 


246  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT, 

prevalent  spirit  amongst  men  at  this  day  is  to  feel  a  secret  hostility 
against  a  life  which  surpasses  their  own  ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  we  hear 
these  tales,  fables,  slanders,  fictions  about  monks  and  nuns  ;  and  that  we 
have  books  Hke  "  La  Religieuse  "  and  "  Le  Maudit ";  or  romances  about 
the  acts  of  ex-Benedictine  nuns  at  Naples,  and  suchlike  ;  or  that  which  is 
the  gospel  of  a  multitude  of  people — though  it  has  been  exposed  a  hun- 
dred times  over  as  a  stupid  self-refuting  imposture,  condemned  and  ex- 
posed by  positive  local  proof  and  distinct  documentary  evidence — the 
history  of  "  Maria  Monk."  Nevertheless,  this  abomination  is  printed 
and  reprinted,  and  bought  and  sold,  because  there  is  a  gross  morbid  taste 
to  which  it  panders,  and  a  diseased  hatred  which  it  gratifies.  It  is  not 
only  against  the  life  of  perfection,  but  against  every  reflection  of  God, 
wheresoever  it  may  be  seen,  that  this  Antichristian  animosity  directs  it- 
self. And  there  are  two  things  which,  perhaps,  are  more  hated,  more  in- 
tensely and  more  bitterly  attacked,  than  any  others. 

The  first  is  the  confessional,  because  in  it  the  priest  sits  in  the  name 
of  God,  hearing  all  things  in  His  stead,  with  his  lips  closed,  and  ready  to 
shed  his  blood  rather  than  break  that  seal.  He  holds  a  power  which  was 
given  him  in  the  Apostles  on  that  night  when  our  Divine  Lord  breathed 
upon  them,  and  said,  "  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost ;  whose  sins  you  shall 
forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them,  and  whose  sins  you  shall  retain,  they  are 
retained."  He  sits  there  invested  with  that  authority,  a  witness  to  the 
day  of  judgment :  and  the  self-accusation  of  men  is  the  prelude  and  the 
preparation  for  the  last  day.  The  world,  if  it  could,  would  pull  the  Last 
Judge  off  His  throne ;  but,  because  He  is  beyond  the  reach  of  its  arm, 
they  pull  the  priest  out  of  the  confessional. 

The  other  thing  against  which  the  enmity  of  men  is  directed,  is  the 
presence  of  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  The  Sacrament  of  the  Altar 
is  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  presence ;  it  is  the  incorporation  of  the 
Divine  love,  sanctity,  and  power ;  and  against  these  things  the  Antichris- 
tian revolt  hurls  itself  as  the  chief  object  of  its  hatred :  as  but  the  other 
day,  if  our  tidings  speak  the  truth,  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  sacrilegi- 
ously mocked  and  scattered  in  the  midst  of  blaspheming  men  and  weep- 
ing women. 

4.  There  is  yet  another  object  of  this  animosity.  What  I  said  last 
leads  on  immediately  to  the  priesthood.  Englishmen  have  heard  from 
childhood  so  much  about  priestcraft,  and  about  being  priest-ridden,  and 
about  bad  priests,  that  they  grow  up  with  a  belief  that  a  priest  is  a  noxious 
creature,  a  sort  of  fera  Ttat'ura,  something  specially  venomous,  antisocial, 
perilous  to  the  commonwealth  of  men.  What  is  the  priesthood  ?  The 
priesthood  is  a  body  of  men,  instituted  by  our  Saviour,  into  which  any 
man  of  you,  if  he  has  the  will  and  the  fitness,  may  freely  enter  to-morrow. 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  247 

It  is  not  a  caste  ;  it  is  not  Freemasonry ;  it  is  not  a  secret  society  of  moral 
assassins,  nor  a  close  corporation  of  tyrannous  men.  It  is  open  to  all ;  it 
has  no  secrets  but  the  sins  of  those  that  repent.  It  is  the  most  demo- 
cratic of  all  the  governments  on  earth :  the  sons  of  peasants  and  of 
ploughmen  are  at  this  day  standing  at  our  altars  and  sitting  upon  the 
throne  of  Apostles.  The  Holy  Council  of  Trent  lays  upon  the  conscience 
of  bishops,  in  founding  their  seminaries,  to  replenish  them  rather  with  the 
children  of  the  poorer  classes.  The  priesthood,  therefore,  is  so  open  to 
every  man,  that  if  there  be  a  secret  craft,  a  priestcraft,  to  be  learnt,  let 
him  come  and  learn  it ;  he  has  only  to  blame  himself  if  he  does  not  know 
all  about  us.  We  have  no  mysteries,  or  ciphers,  or  masonic  signs.  The 
priesthood  and  the  theology  which  makes  the  priest  are  open  to  every- 
body ;  it  is  not  like  secret  societies,  which  hide  themselves  from  the  light 
and  labor  underground.  The  priesthood  is  in  noonday,  standing  at  the 
altar,  and  everybody  may  know  what  it  is ;  and  yet  we  hear  of  "  sacerdo- 
talism "  as  if  it  were  the  Black  Death  or  a  plague  of  Egypt,  or  a  pesti- 
lence which  walks  in  darkness.  In  the  public  newspapers  men  are  warned, 
and  hopes  are  expressed  that  the  world  at  last  may  be  saved  from 
"sacerdotalism."  In  the  fourth  chapter  of  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the 
Ephesians,  we  read  these  words :  "  He  led  captivity  captive,  He  gave 
gifts  to  men,"  "  and  He  gave  some  apostles,  and  some  prophets,  and  other 
some  evangelists,  and  other  some  pastors  and  doctors  (or  teachers),  for 
the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edifying 
of  the  body  of  Christ."  Here  is  the  priesthood  :  a  body  of  men  chosen 
first  by  our  Lord,  illuminated,  trained,  and  conformed  to  Himself,  to  be 
the  guardians  and  the  transmitters  of  the  truths  which  He  revealed  to 
them,  and  of  the  laws  which  He  gave  into  their  custody.  They  were 
charged  afterward  to  deliver  the  same  to  others  whom  they  should  select, 
whom  they,  in  turn,  should  illuminate  and  train  to  the  same  likeness, 
thereby  transmitting  to  the  end  of  the  world,  undiminished,  the  custody 
of  Divine  truth  which  was  delivered  to  their  charge.  This,  then,  is  the 
priesthood ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  must  be  an  object  of  special 
animosity ;  and  for  the  very  reason  with  which  I  began :  "  If  the  world 
hate  you,  know  ye  that  it  hath  hated  Me  before  you."  This  was  said  to 
the  first  priests.  "  If  you  had  been  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love 
its  own  ;  but  because  you  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  have  chosen  you 
out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world  hateth  you."  They  are  witnesses 
of  the  truth,  and  they  have  power  to  deliver  it ;  and  they  have  power  to 
deliver  it  because  they  have  a  Divine  certainty  of  the  truth  they  deliver ; 
and  they  have  a  Divine  certainty  of  that  truth,  because  they  are  the  dis- 
ciples of  the  Church  which  is  divinely  guided,  before  they  become  the 
teachers  of  the  faithful.     To  them  is  committed  the  power  of  applying 


248  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

that  truth  to  men — that  is,  of  guiding  their  thoughts  and  consciences,  and 
of  distinguishing  truth  from  falsehood  in  matters  of  faith,  of  judging  the 
actions  of  men,  of  distinguishing  between  right  and  wrong  in  questions 
of  the  Divine  law,  and  of  pronouncing  upon  them  censure,  if  need  be ; 
giving  or  withholding  absolution  by  their  sentence  before  God.  I  do  not 
wonder,  therefore,  that  there  should  be  an  animosity  in  those  that  do  not 
love  the  Master,  from  whose  side  the  priesthood  springs ;  and  I  do  not 
wonder  that  a  bad  priest — if  he  can  be  found — is  the  hero  and  the  saint 
of  the  world.  And  it  never  happens  that  an  unhappy  priest,  either  by 
loss  of  faith  or  by  loss  of  fidelity,  falls  from  his  sacred  state,  but  he  is 
straightway  glorified  as  a  theologian,  preacher,  doctor,  and  I  know  not 
what  besides.  The  world  receives  him  as  its  own,  and  because  he  is  its 
own,  loves  him. 

5.  Lastly,  there  is  one  person  upon  whom  this  Antichristian  spirit 
concentrates  itself,  as  the  lightning  on  the  conductor.  There  is  one  per- 
son upon  earth  who  is  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  which  is  always  the 
first  to  be  struck.  It  is  the  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ;  and  that  for  the  most 
obvious  of  reasons.  There  is  no  man  on  earth  so  near  to  Jesus  Christ  as 
His  own  Vicar.  Two  hundred  and  fifty-seven  links,  and  we  arrive  at  the 
Person  of  the  Son  of  God.  Two  hundred  and  fifty-seven  Pontiffs,  and 
we  are  in  the  presence  of  the  Master  whom  His  Vicar  represents.  That 
chain  runs  through  the  ages  of  Christian  history,  and  connects  us  with 
the  day  when,  on  the  coasts  of  Decapolis,  Jesus  said  to  Peter,  *'  Thou  art 
Peter,  and  upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church,  and  the  gates  of  hell 
shall  not  prevail  against  it."  No  man  therefore  brings  us  so  near  to  the 
Person  of  the  Son  of  God  as  His  Vicar  upon  earth,  and  no  man  is  to  be 
made  so  like  to  Him  in  suffering  for  His  sake.  The  first  nine-and-twenty 
Pontiffs  were  crowned  with  martyrdom.  Five-and-forty  times,  since 
then,  the  Pontiffs  have  either  been  driven  out  of  Rome  by  violence,  or 
by  violence  have  been  hindered  from  setting  their  foot  in  it.  Their  lives 
have  been  lives  of  wandering,  like  those  the  Apostle  describes  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews :  "  Of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy ;  wander- 
ing in  deserts,  in  mountains,  and  in  dens,  and  in  caves  of  the  earth." 
Their  whole  life  has  been  a  life  of  the  Cross,  and  that  because  they  bear 
the  office,  and  stand  in  the  place,  of  their  Divine  Master.  The  Evangel- 
ists write  of  Jesus,  and  those  that  were  with  Him ;  as  in  the  Book  of 
Acts  it  is  Peter,  and  those  that  were  with  him.  He  had  taken  his  Mas- 
ter's place.  And  to  Peter  were  given  the  two  great  prerogatives  which 
constituted  the  plenitude  of  his  Master's  office.  To  him  first,  and  to 
him  alone,  before  all  the  others,  though  in  the  presence  of  the  others, 
was  given  the  power  of  the  keys.  To  him,  and  to  him  alone,  and  in  the 
presence  of  the  others,  was  given  also  the  charge  of  the  universal  flock : 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  249 

"  Feed  my  sheep."  To  him,  and  to  him  alone,  exclusively,  were  spoken 
the  words,  "  Simon,  Simon,  behold,  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you,  that 
he  might  sift  you  as  wheat "  (that  is,  all  the  Apostles) ;  "  but  I  have 
prayed  for  thee" — in  the  singular  number:  for  thee,  Peter — "that  thy 
faith  fail  not ;  and  thou  being  once  converted,  confirm  thy  brethren "; 
and  therefore  the  plenitude  of  jurisdiction,  and  the  plenitude  of  truth, 
with  the  promise  of  Divine  assistance  to  preserve  him  in  that  truth,  was 
given  to  Peter,  and  in  Peter  to  his  successors. 

Compare  together  Rome  and  Constantinople.  Rome,  at  all  times  as- 
sailed by  a  warfare  so  manifold  that  the  world  has  hurled  upon  it  every 
weapon  that  man  could  forge  or  direct ;  Constantinople,  under  imperial 
protection,  fostered  and  endowed,  sank  into  schism,  and  is  in  bondage  to 
the  false  prophet.  Rome  suffering,  but  free  ;  free  and  royal ;  royal  and 
reigning  over  the  Christian  world.  Make  another  contrast.  Poor  Ire- 
land, with  its  unbroken  tradition  of  immaculate  Catholic  Faith.  Poor 
Ireland — what  preserved  it  three  hundred  years  ago,  and  during  three 
hundred  years  of  suffering  for  the  Faith  ?  Fidelity  to  the  Vicar  of  Jesus 
Christ,  fidelity  to  Rome,  fidelity  to  the  changeless  See  of  Peter.  The 
arch  of  the  Faith  is  kept  fast  by  that  keystone,  which  the  world  would 
fain  strike  out  if  it  could,  but  never  has  prevailed  to  do  so  ;  and  Ireland 
has  been  sustained  by  it :  and  to  this  day  among  the  nations  of  the  Chris- 
tian world  there  is  not  to  be  found  a  people  so  instinct  with  faith  and  so 
governed  by  Christian  morality  as  the  people  of  Ireland.  Driven  abroad 
into  all  the  nations  of  the  world,  into  the  colonies  of  the  British  Empire, 
into  the  great  northern  continent  of  America — wheresoever  they  go  they 
carry  with  them  their  faith,  and  sow  it  broadcast  in  works  of  a  magnitude 
and  generosity  which  we  here,  in  the  midst  of  all  our  wealth,  cannot  at- 
tempt to  imitate.  Compare  with  poor  Ireland  imperial  and  prosperous 
England.  The  picture  would  be  too  sad ;  and,  as  I  have  said  before,  I 
refrain  from  all  that  could  needlessly  wound  any  that  are  not  of  my  flock. 
You  know  the. past  divisions  and  estrangements,  the  animosities  which,  I 
hope,  are  now  slackened,  the  contentions  which,  I  trust,  are  now  at  an 
end.  But  what  a  history  has  been  the  religious  history  of  England  for 
the  last  three  hundred  years  !  What  is  its  religious  state  now  ?  What 
will  be  its  future  ?  The  majestic  cathedrals  of  England,  the  noble  abbeys, 
the  churches  of  ten  thousand  parishes,  the  lofty  structures  of  our  ancient 
towns,  the  sweeter,  if  humbler,  churches  in  our  green  hamlets,  and  in  our 
woodlands,  and  on  our  solitary  downs,  show  that  Faith  had  penetrated 
everywhere  through  the  English  people,  and  that  the  people  were  pro- 
foundly Christian.  I  have  been  reading  lately  the  books  of  piety  written 
here  in  England  some  two  hundred  years  before  what  men  call  the  Ref- 
ormation, in  which,  if  the  tracing  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  human 


250  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

heart,  transcribing  itself  upon  the  page,  can  anywhere  be  found,  it  is 
in  the  revelations  of  Divine  love  and  the  interior  consciousness  of  the 
soul  which  are  left  to  us  by  our  ancestors.  Are  Englishmen  never  any 
more  to  return  to  the  unity  of  the  Faith  ?  Are  we  never  again  to  wor- 
ship at  one  altar  ?  Are  Englishmen  to  be  united  in  everything  but  faith, 
and  in  faith  to  be  forever  divided  ?  God  forbid  !  I  rejoice  to  know  that 
the  English  people  believe  profoundly  in  God ;  that,  as  yet,  the  plague 
of  Atheism  has  not  made  its  havoc  amongst  them.  They  believe,  too,  in 
Christianity  as  a  Divine  revelation,  and  therefore  they  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ  their  Saviour ;  and  "  no  man  can  say,  the  Lord  Jesus,  but  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  and  "  every  spirit  which  confesses  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come 
in  the  flesh,  is  of  God."  They  believe,  too,  that  Holy  Scripture  is  the 
written  word  of  God.  It  is  true,  there  are  to  be  found  here  and  there 
rationalists  and  critics  and  sceptics  and  shallow  heads,  who  may  have  re- 
jected the  written  word  of  God :  but  these  are  not  the  English  people. 
They  hold  it  fast  as  their  birthright.  I  rejoice  to  know  it.  Ay,  more 
than  this ;  they  have  declared  themselves  in  these  Icist  years,  and  will  all 
the  more  inflexibly  declare  themselves,  to  be  Christians,  being  sharply 
warned  and  taught  by  what  is  now  before  our  eyes.  They  will  demand 
that  their  children  too  shall  be  brought  up  as  Christians.  I  rejoice  to 
know  all  this.  May  God  strengthen  those  things  that  remain  !  May  He 
preserve  them  where  they  exist,  and  revive  them  where  they  are  declin- 
ing !  May  He  once  more  unite  what  is  divided,  in  the  charity  of  truth  ! 
Let  us  now  sum  up  what  has  been  said  of  the  four  great  evils  of  the 
day.  First,  we  have  seen  that  one  great  evil  of  this  day  is  the  revolt  of 
the  intellect  from  God.  I  pointed  out  to  you  how  that  revolt  manifested 
itself  in  Atheism,  in  Deism,  in  heresy,  in  the  diminishing  and  explaining 
away  of  Christian  doctrine,  and  in  practical  unbelief.  Secondly,  I  showed 
you  the  revolt  of  the  will  from  the  law  of  God.  I  traced  it  out  in  the 
lawlessness  which  is  characteristic  of  these  later  days,  in  the  world-wor- 
ship which  is  a  moral  apostasy  from  God,  in  the  luxury  which  is  eating 
out  the  heart  of  morals,  in  the  sensuous  piety  which  paralyzes  and  taints 
even  the  devout,  and  in  the  softness  and  self-indulgence  which  makes  us 
unworthy  of  the  Cross.  Thirdly,  I  endeavored  to  sketch  out  the  revolt 
of  society  from  the  authority  of  God.  I  pointed  out  that  civil  society  is 
a  Divine  creation  in  the  order  of  nature ;  that  God  elevated  and  conse- 
crated the  order  of  nature  and  of  politics  by  instituting  His  Church  in 
the  world,  and  by  uniting  the  authority  of  civil  government  with  the 
Christian  authority  of  the  Church.  I  traced  out  also  the  rebellion,  the 
divorce,  the  separation,  which  has  taken  place  between  these  two  divine 
creations — the  State,  as  it  is  called,  and  the  Church — and  as  a  conse- 
quence, the  desecration  of  the  civil  power,  the  stripping  of  the  civil  so- 


CARDINAL  MANNING.  251 

ciety  of  the  world  of  its  Christian  character,  and  the  reducing  it  once 
more  to  the  mere  state  of  nature.  In  those  ages  when  society  was  Chris- 
tian, the  public  opinion,  public  laws,  public  axioms,  the  influence  all 
around,  sustained  the  individual,  raised  him  upward,  and  supported  him 
in  his  higher  life.  Now  it  is  society  that  drags  the  individual  down ; 
Christianity  lingers  in  individuals,  but  it  has  departed  from  society.  And, 
lastly,  I  have  endeavored  to  draw  out  what  the  Antichristian  spirit  is. 
It  is  the  spirit  of  the  world,  which  has  separated  itself  altogether  from 
the  Church  and  from  Christianity,  or  retains  only  a  fragmentary  Christi- 
anity, and  is  sometimes  consciously,  sometimes  unconsciously,  penetrated 
by  the  Antichristian  enmity.  I  have  marked  also  the  special  objects 
against  which  this  spirit  directs  itself:  Revelation,  the  Catholic  and 
Roman  Church,  the  life  of  perfection,  the  priesthood,  and  the  Vicar  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  general  conclusion  from  all  that  I  have  said  is  this :  there  is  no 
hope  for  man  or  for  society  but  in  returning  to  God.  There  is  no  other 
hope.  There  is  nothing  but  God  on  which  the  soul  can  rest,  on  which 
society  can  stand.  The  most  perfect  legislation,  the  most  refined  human 
laws,  the  most  acute  human  philosophy,  political  economy,  benevolence, 
and  beneficence  in  all  its  forms,  all  the  social  sciences  of  which  we  hear 
so  much — all  these  are  powerless  without  God.  The  most  finished  time- 
piece, in  which  every  minute  articulation  is  complete  and  perfect,  cannot 
strike  one  note  or  measure  one  moment  unless  a  living  hand  communi- 
cate to  it  the  fund  of  motion  which  it  aftenvard  exhausts.  The  mightiest 
machine  which  will  lift  a  hammer  of  surpassing  weight,  break  bars  of  iron, 
or  cut  them  as  if  they  were  the  branches  of  the  fir-tree,  the  most  won- 
derful structures  of  mechanical  skill,  are  nothing  until  the  momentum  is 
given,  and  that  momentum  must  be  sought  elsewhere.  Mechanics  can  do 
nothing  without  dynamical  powers ;  and  these  dynamical  powers,  for  men 
and  for  society,  are  to  be  found  in  God  alone.  They  can  be  found  only 
in  Him  to  whose  image  man  is  made  ;  they  can  be  found  nowhere  but  in 
His  truth,  which  is  the  key  of  the  human  intellect,  and  in  His  grace, 
which  is  the  only  hand  that  can  touch  the  heart  in  man  ;  and  if  this  be 
so,  they  can  be  found  only  in  Christianity.  Neither  adults  nor  children 
can  be  touched  by  the  laws  of  States,  except  externally.  The  State  may 
control  the  external  actions  of  men — it  can  imprison,  it  can  fine,  it  can 
inflict  capital  punishment ;  but  it  cannot  convert  the  sinner,  nor  change 
the  will,  nor  illuminate  the  intellect,  nor  guide  the  conscience,  nor  shape 
a  character.  It  cannot  educate  a  child.  All  this  is  internal,  not  external ; 
it  is  not  mechanism ;  it  belongs  to  the  living  powers  of  the  soul ;  and 
God  alone,  by  truth  and  grace,  can  accomplish  this  work  in  man. 

I  implore  you,  in  God's  name,  and  all  the  more  because  of  the  events, 


252  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

full  of  sorrow  and  of  shame  to  Christian  men,  which  have  crowded  so 
thick  upon  us  of  late  that,  with  all  your  heart  and  will,  and  all  the  weight 
of  your  soul,  you  cast  yourselves  on  God.  He  alone  can  save.  Use  all 
your  influence  with  those  around  you,  in  your  homes,  your  households, 
your  friendships ;  and  if  you  have  public  influence,  pubHc  trust,  public 
authority,  strive  that  all  who  bear  responsibility  shall  cast  themselves  on 
God,  as  the  only  hope  for  society  and  for  the  people.  Do  you  want  to 
see  what  man  without  God  can  do?  Read  the  history  of  the  last  eighty 
years  in  Paris.  You  have  there  one  simple  phenomenon — generation 
rising  after  generation  without  God  in  the  world.  And  why  ?  Because 
without  Christian  education.  First,  an  atheistical  revolution ;  next,  an 
empire  penetrated  through  and  through  with  a  mocking  philosophy  and 
a  reckless  indifferentism ;  afterward  came  Governments,  changed  in 
name  and  in  form,  but  not  in  practice  nor  in  spirit.  The  Church,  tram- 
melled by  protection,  its  spiritual  action  faint  and  paralyzed,  could  not 
penetrate  the  masses  of  thq  people,  nor  form  the  rising  youth.  It  labored 
fervently ;  its  sons  fought  nobly  for  Christian  freedom  ;  thousands  were 
saved ;  but  for  eighty  years  the  mass  of  men  has  grown  up  without  God 
and  without  Christ  in  the  world.  My  whole  soul  pities  them.  These  out- 
bursts of  horror,  strife,  outrage,  sacrilege,  bloodshed,  are  the  harvest 
reaped  from  the  rank  soil  in  which  such  seed  was  cast.  All  this  is  true. 
But  how  did  souls  created  to  the  image  of  God  grow  up  in  such  a  state  ? 
They  were  robbed  :  robbed  before  they  were  born,  robbed  of  their  inher- 
itance, and  reared  up  in  an  education  without  Christianity.  Let  this  be 
a  warning  to  ourselves.  We  are  on  the  turn  of  the  tide.  A  few  active, 
busy,  confident,  and  eloquent  men  were  a  year  ago  carrying  us  away  with 
theories  of  State  education  without  religion.  We  were  told  that  a  child 
might  be  taught  to  read  and  to  write  and  to  spell  and  to  sum  without 
Christianity.  Who  denies  it  ?  But  what  does  this  make  of  them  ?  To 
what  would  they  grow  up  ?  The  formation  of  the  will  and  heart  and 
character,  the  formation  of  a  man,  is  education,  and  not  the  reading  and 
the  writing  and  the  spelling  and  the  summing.  For  fifteen  hundred 
years.  Christians  served  God  and  loved  man,  before  as  yet  they  received 
this  cultivation ;  and  we,  because  we  have  it  profusely,  we  are  forgetting 
the  deeper  and  diviner  lessons.  The  tradition  of  Christian  education 
in  England  is  as  yet  unbroken.  It  is  threatened  now  for  the  first  time. 
In  God's  name,  stand  fast,  and  save  it.  I  can  add  no  more.  Do  not  be 
afraid,  if  you  find  yourselves  in  the  minority.  "  Woe  to  you  when  men 
shall  bless  you  ! "  You  must  be  censured  if  you  are  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  world  that  hated  Him  will  not  love  you.  "  The  disciple  is 
not  above  his  master,  nor  the  servant  above  his  lord.  It  is  enough  for 
the  disciple  that  he  be  as  his  master,  and  the  servant  as  his  lord."     "If 


CARDINAL  MANNING. 


25a 


they  have  called  the  master  of  the  house  Beelzebub,  how  much  more 
them  of  his  household  ?  "  And  therefore,  if  you  have  the  mark  of  the 
world's  hatred  upon  you,  accept  it ;  press  it  to  your  bosom.  It  is  the 
token  that  you  are  the  disciples  of  the  true  and  only  Master.  If  you 
have  the  world's  favor  and  sunshine,  look  to  yourselves.  There  is  a  dark 
future  before  the  world.  What  it  may  be,  God  alone  knows.  The 
Church  will  have  to  suffer ;  but  there  is  a  light  upon  it,  and  that  light 
can  never  fade.  We  are  in  evil  times,  marked  deeply  by  the  four  great 
evils  of  which  I  have  spoken.  Around  us  are  "  evil  men  and  seducers, 
who  grow  worse  and  worse,  erring,  and  driving  into  error."  "  Many  shall 
come  in  my  name,"  our  Lord  has  said,  "  and  seduce  many  ";  and  because 
of  their  iniquity  the  love  and  the  charity  of  the  many  shall  wax  cold. 
Nation  shall  rise  against  nation,  and  kingdom  against  kingdom  ;  and  there 
shall  be  wars  and  pestilences  in  many  places.  But  the  end  is  not  yet.  This 
is  only  the  beginning  of  troubles.  Keep  close  to  the  footsteps  of  the  Master 
who  spoke  those  words ;  and,  when  these  signs  are  in  the  sky  and  upon 
the  earth,  remember  that  He  also  said,  "  When  these  things  begin  to  come 
to  pass,  look  up,  and  lift  up  your  heads ;  for  your  redemption  is  at  hand." 


CARDINAL   GIBBONS. 


Cardinal  James  Gibbons,  D.D.,  Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  was  born  in 
Maryland,  in  the  year  1834.  In  1868  he  was  consecrated  Bishop,  and 
created  Cardinal  in  1886. 


(255) 


CA^ID^AL    ©mp^l^S^ 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

HERE  is  but  one  Being  that  is  absolutely  immortal,  One  alone 
that  is  everlasting,  that  has  no  beginning,  that  will  have  no 
end — and  that  Being  is  God.  "  In  the  beginning,  O  Lord," 
says  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou  foundedst  the  earth,  and  the  heav- 
ens are  the  works  of  Thy  hands.  They  shall  perish,  but  Thou  remainest,' 
and  all  of  them  shall  grow  old  like  a  garment :  and  as  a  vesture  Thou 
shalt  change  them,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  But  Thou  art  always  the 
self-same,  and  Thy  years  shall  not  fail."  "  I  am  alpha  and  omega,  the 
beginning  and  the  end,  saith  the  Lord  God,  who  is,  and  who  was,  and 
who  is  to  come,  the  Almighty." 

Go  back  in  spirit  to  the  twilight  of  time.  Contemplate  the  early  dawn 
of  creation  before  this  earth  assumed  its  present  form,  when  all  was 
chaos.  Even  then  God  was  in  the  fulness  of  life,  "  and  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  over  the  waters." 

Look  forward  through  the  vista  of  ages  to  come,  when  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  shall  have  passed  away,  even  then  God  will  live.  He  will 
survive  this  universal  wreck  of  matter. 

Let  us  now  look  at  man.  What  a  strange  contrast  is  presented  by 
his  physical  and  spiritual  natures !  What  a  mysterious  compound  of 
corruption  and  incorruption,  of  ignominy  and  glory,  of  weakness  and 
strength,  of  matter  and  mind!  He  has  a  body  that  must  be  nourished 
twice  or  thrice  a  day,  else  it  will  grow  faint  and  languid.  It  is  subject  to 
infirmities  and  sickness  and  disease,  and  it  must  finally  yield  to  the  in- 
evitable law  of  death. 

What  is  each  one  of  us,  but  a  vapor  that  rises  and  melts  away,  a 
shadow  that  suddenly  vanishes !  A  hundred  years  ago,  we  had  no  exist- 
ence ;  a  hundred  years  hence,  we- shall  probably  be  forgotten. 

Let  us  now  contemplate  man's  spiritual  nature.  In  a  mortal  body, 
he  carries  an  immortal  soul.  In  this  perishable  mass,  resides  an  imperish- 
able spirit.  Within  this  frail,  tottering  temple,  shines  a  light  that  will 
always  burn,  that  will  never  be  extinguished.  As  to  the  past,  we  are 
finite;  as  to  the  future,  we  are  infinite  in  duration.  As  to  the  past,  we 
are  creatures  of  yesterday ;  as  to  the  future,  we  are  everlasting.  When 
this  house  of  clay  will  have  crumbled  to  dust,  when  this  earth  shall  have 

(2E7) 


258  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

passed  away,  when  the  sun  and  stars  shall  grow  dim  with  years,  even 
then  our  soul  will  live  and  think,  remember  and  love ;  for  God  breathed 
into  us  a  living  spirit,  and  that  spirit,  like  Himself,  is  clothed  with 
immortality. 

The  soul  is  the  principle  by  which  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being.  It  is  that  which  forms  and  perpetuates  our  identity ;  for  it  makes 
us  to  be  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.  The  soul  has  intel- 
lectual conceptions  and  operations  of  reason  and  judgment  independent 
of  material  organs.  Our  own  experience  clearly  teaches  us  this  important 
point.  Our  mind  grasps  what  the  senses  cannot  reach.  We  think  of 
God  and  of  His  attributes,  we  have  thoughts  of  justice  and  of  truth,  we 
perceive  mentally  the  connection  existing  between  premises  and  conclu- 
sions, we  know  the  difference  between  good  and  evil.  Such  a  principle 
being  independent  of  matter  in  its  operations,  must  needs  be  independ- 
ent of  matter  also  in  its  being.  It  is,  therefore,  of  its  nature,  subject  to 
no  corruption  resulting  from  matter.  Its  life,  which  is  its  being,  is  not 
extinguished  and  cannot  be  extinguished  with  that  of  the  body. 

It  is  well  known  that  there  is  a  constant  waste  going  on  in  every  part 
of  the  human  body  which  'has  to  be  renovated  by  daily  nutriment.  So 
steady  is  this  exhaustion  that  in  the  judgment  of  medical  science  an  en- 
tire transformation  of  the  physical  system  occurs  every  six  or  eight  years. 
New  flesh  and  bones  and  tissues  are  substituted  for  those  you  had  before. 
The  hand  with  which  you  write,  the  brain  which  you  exercise  in  thinking, 
are  composed  of  entirely  different  materials.  And  yet  you  comprehend 
to-day  what  you  learned  ten  years  ago,  you  remember  and  love  those 
with  whom  you  were  then  associated.  How  is  this?  You  no  longer  use 
the  identical  organic  substance  you  then  possessed.  Does  it  not  prove 
that  the  faculty,  called  the  soul,  by  which  you  think,  remember,  and  love 
is  distinct  from  organic  matter,  that  while  the  body  is  constantly  chang- 
ing, the  soul  remains  the  same,  that  it  does  not  share  in  the  process  of 
decomposition  and  renewal  through  which  the  human  frame  is  passing 
and  therefore  that  it  is  a  spiritual  substance  ? 

All  nations,  moreover,  both  ancient  and  modern,  whether  professing 
the  true  or  a  false  religion,  have  believed  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
how  much  soever  they  may  have  differed  as  to  the  nature  of  future  re- 
wards and  punishments,  or  the  mode  of  future  existence. 

Such  was  the  faith  of  the  people  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  as  we 
learn  from  the  writings  of  Homer,  Virgil,  and  Ovid,  who  picture  the 
blessed  in  the  next  world  as  dwelling  in  the  Elysian  fields,  and  consign 
the  wicked  to  Tartarus  and  Hades. 

This  belief  in  a  future  life  was  not  confined  to  the  uncultivated  masses; 
it  was  taught  by  the  most  eminent  writers  and  philosophers  of  those 


CARDINAL   GIBBONS,  259 

polished  nations.  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Cicero,  Seneca,  Plutarch, 
and  other  sages  of  Pagan  antiquity,  guided  only  by  the  light  of  reason, 
proclaimed  their  belief  in  the  soul's  immortality.  "  Nor  do  I  agree,"  says 
Cicero,  "  with  those  that  have  lately  begun  to  advance  this  opinion,  that 
the  soul  dies  together  with  the  body,  and  that  all  things  are  annihilated 
by  death.  The  authority  of  the  ancients  has  more  weight  with  me : 
either  that  of  our  own  ancestors  who  paid  such  sacred  honors  to  the  dead, 
which  surely  they  would  not  have  done,  if  they  thought  those  honors  in 
no  way  affected  them ;  or  that  of  those  who  once  lived  in  this  country 
and  enlightened  by  their  institutions  and  instructions  Magna  Graecia 
(which  now,  indeed,  is  destroyed,  but  then  was  flourishing) ;  or  of  him 
who  was  pronounced  by  the  oracle  of  Apollo  to  be  the  wisest  of  men,  who 
did  not  express  first  one  opinion  and  then  another,  as  in  most  questions, 
but  always  maintained  the  same,  namely,  that  the  souls  of  men  are  di- 
vine, and  that  when  they  have  departed  from  the  body,  a  return  to  heaven 
is  opened  to  them,  most  speedy  in  proportion  as  each  has  been  most  vir- 
tuous and  just." 

These  eloquent  words  convey  the  sentiments  not  only  of  Cicero  him- 
self, but  also  of  great  sages  of  Greece  and  Rome. 

"  This  belief  which  we  hold  "  (in  the  immortality  of  the  soul),  says 
Plutarch,  "  is  so  old  that  weicannot  trace  its  author  or  its  origin,  and  it 
dates  back  to  the  most  remote  antiquity." 

The  same  views  were  held  by  the  ancient  Egyptians,  the  Chaldeans,, 
and  Persians,  indeed  by  all  the  nations  of  Asia  whose  history  has  come 
down  to  us,  and  by  the  Germans,  Gauls,  Britons,  and  other  ancient  tribes 
of  Europe.  If  we  question  the  Indian  of  North  or  South  America  on 
this  point,  he  will  tell  us  of  the  happy  hunting-grounds  reserved  in 
after-life  for  the  brave. 

We  may  find  nations  without  cities,  without  the  arts  and  sciences, 
without  mechanical  inventions,  or  any  of  the  refinements  of  civilized  life  ; 
but  a  nation  without  some  presentiment  of  the  existence  of  a  future  state, 
we  shall  search  for  in  vain. 

Even  idolatry  itself  involved  an  implied  recognition  of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul ;  for  how  could  men  pay  divine  honors  to  departed  heroes, 
whom  they  worshipped  as  gods,  if  they  believed  that  death  is  the  end  of 
man's  existence  ? 

We  may,  indeed,  find  a  man  here  and  there  who  pretends  to  deny  the 
existence  of  a  future  state.  But  like  the  fool  that  says  in  his  heart, 
"There  is  no  God,"  this  man's  "wish  is  father  to  his  thought";  for  if 
there  is  in  the  life  to  come  a  place  of  retribution,  he  feels  that  it  will  be 
so  much  the  worse  for  him.  Or  even  should  we  encounter  one  who 
really  has  no  faith  in  a  future  life,  we  should  have  no  more  right  to  take 


260  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

him  as  a  type  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  nature  than  to  take  the 
Siamese  twins  as  types  of  our  physical  organization.  The  exception 
always  proves  the  rule. 

Now,  whence  comes  this  universal  belief  in  man's  immortality  ?  Not 
from  prejudice  arising  from  education ;  for  we  shall  find  this  conviction 
prevailing  among  rude  people  who  have  no  education  whatever,  among 
hostile  tribes,  and  among  nations  at  the  opposite  poles  of  the  earth  and 
who  have  never  had  intercourse  with  one  another. 

We  must,  therefore,  conclude  that  a  sentiment  so  general  and  deep- 
rooted  must  have  been  planted  in  the  human  breast  by  Almighty  God, 
just  as  He  has  implanted  in  us  an  instinctive  love  for  truth  and  justice, 
and  an  inveterate  abhorrence  of  falsehood  and  injustice, 
i  Not  only  has  mankind  a  firm  belief  in  the  immortality  of  "the  soul,  but 
there  is  inborn  in  every  human  breast  a  desire  for  perfect  felicity.  This 
desire  is  so  strong  in  man  that  it  is  the  mainspring  of  all  his  actions,  the 
engine  that  keeps  in  motion  the  machinery  of  society.  Even  when  he 
commits  acts  that  lead  him  to  misery,  he  does  so  under  the  mistaken 
notion,  that  he  is  consulting  his  own  happiness. 

Now  God  would  never  have  planted  in  the  human  heart  this  craving 
after  perfect  felicity,  unless  He  had  intended  that  the  desire  should  be 
fully  gratified ;  for  He  never  designed  that  man  should  be  the  sport  of 
vain  and  barren  hopes.  He  never  creates  any  thing  in  vain ;  but  He 
would  have  created  something  to  no  purpose  if  He  had  given  us  the 
thirst  for  perfect  bliss  without  imparting  to  us  the  means  of  assuaging  it. 
As  He  has  given  us  bodily  eyes  to  view  and  enjoy  the  objects  of  nature 
around  us,  so  has  He  given  us  an  interior  perspective  of  immortal  bliss, 
that  we  may  yearn  for  it  now  and  enjoy  it  hereafter. 

It  is  clear  that  this  desire  for  perfect  happiness  never  is  and  never  can 
be  fully  realized  in  the  present  life. 

Let  us  take  up  one  by  one  the  various  sources  of  human  enjoyment. 
Can  earthly  goods  adequately  satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  human  heart 
and  fill  up  the  measure  of  its  desires  ?  Experience  proves  the  contrary. 
One  might  have  the  wealth  of  Croesus  of  old,  or  of  Vanderbilt  in  our 
own  times,  and  yet  his  happiness  would  be  far  from  complete ;  for  he 
would  still  be  oppressed  by  the  desire  for  greater  riches,  or  haunted  by 
the  fear  of  losing  what  he  has  acquired,  or  of  being  torn  from  it  by  death. 
"  O  death,  how  bitter  is  the  remembrance  of  thee  to  a  man  that  has  peace 
in  his  possessions." 

Can  honors  fully  gratify  the  aspirations  of  the  soul  ?  No.  For  though 
the  highest  dignities  were  lavished  upon,  a  man,  still,  like  Aman,  the 
minister  of  King  Assuerus,  he  would  be  discontented  so  long  as  there 
was  in  the  Republic  one  that  refused  to  bend  the  knee  to  him.     And  if  he 


CARDINAL  GIBBONS.  261 

sat  upon  the  most  exalted  throne  on  earth  and  were  ruler  of  kingdoms, 
he  would,  like  Alexander  the  Great,  sigh  for  other  empires  that  he  might 
conquer  them.  Honors  bring  corresponding  cares.  The  more  brilliant 
and  precious  the  crown,  the  more  heavily  it  presses  on  the  brow  that 
wears  it. 

I  have  seen  and  contemplated  two  of  the  greatest  rulers  on  the  face 
of  the  earth, — the  civil  ruler  of  sixty-five  millions  and  the  spiritual  ruler 
of  two  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  people.  I  have  conversed  with  the 
President  and  the  Pope  in  their  private  apartments ;  and  I  am  convinced 
that  their  exalted  position,  far  from  satisfying  the  aspirations  of  their 
soul,  did  but  fill  them  with  a  profound  sense  of  their  grave  responsibility. 

Can  earthly  pleasures  make  one  so  happy  as  to  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired  ?  Assuredly  not.  They  that  indulge  in  sensual  gratifications  are 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  the  deeper  they  plunge  into  them,  the  more 
they  are  enslaved  and  the  less  they  are  satiated  by  them.  The  keen  edge 
of  delight  soon  becomes  blunted. 

No  one  is  better  qualified  than  Solomon  to  express  from  experience 
an  opinion  on  the  power  of  the  pleasures  of  sense  to  promote  human 
happiness.  Every  creature  ministered  to  his  personal  gratification,  he 
yielded  to  every  excess,  he  denied  himself  nothing  that  his  heart  desired ; 
and,  as  the  fruit  of  all  this,  he  declared  that  he  was  weary  of  life,  and  that 
all  was  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

We  find  great  comfort  in  this  life  in  the  society  of  loving  friends  and 
relatives.  But  how  frail  is  the  thread  that  binds  friends  and  kindred  to- 
gether !  The  bond  may  be  broken  by  treachery ;  it  must  be  broken  by 
death.  This  thought  haunts  like  a  spectre,  and  casts  its  dark  shadow 
over  the  social  and  family  circle. 

Another  source  of  exquisite  delight  is  found  in  the  pursuit  of  knowl- 
edge. And  this  pleasure  is  more  pure,  more  solid,  and  more  lasting  than 
sensual  gratifications,  because  it  is  rational.  Pythagoras  was  so  ravished 
by  the  solution  of  a  mathematical  problem  that  he  offered  to  the  gods  a 
holocaust  in  thanksgiving.  So  deeply  was  Archimedes  absorbed  in  work- 
ing out  another  problem,  that  he  forgot  to  eat  and  drink  ;  and  when  he 
had  made  the  wished-for  discovery,  he  ran  through  the  streets  of  Syra- 
cuse, crying  out :  "  Eureka  !  Eureka  !  I  have  found  it !  I  have  found  it ! " 
But  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  though  attended  with  great  labor,  far 
from  satisfying  our  desires,  only  sharpens  our  appetite  for  more  informa- 
tion, and  makes  us  more  conscious  of  our  ignorance.  The  higher  we  as- 
cend the  mount  of  knowledge,  the  broader  becomes  our  view  of  the  vast 
fields  of  science  that  still  remain  uncultivated  by  us. 

Sir  Isaac  Newton  when  dying  uttered  these  remarkable  words :  "  I 
know  not  what  the  world  will  think  of  my  labors ;  but,  as  for  myself,  I 


262  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

feel  like  a  little  child  amusing  itself  on  the  sea-shore,  finding  here  a 
smooth  pebble,  and  there  a  brilliant  shell,  while  the  great  ocean  of  truth 
lies  unexplored  before  me."  Oh,  if  Newton  was  himself  made  so  happy 
and  contributed  so  much  to  the  delight  of  others  by  his  discoveries,  what 
must  be  the  bliss  of  those  that,  for  all  eternity,  will  explore  without  toil 
the  boundless  ocean  of  Divine  Truth ! 

But  the  greatest  consolation  attainable  in  this  life  is  found  in  the  pur- 
suit and  practice  of  virtue.  And  if  there  is  any  tranquillity  of  mind,  any 
delight  of  soul,  any  joy  of  spirit,  any  pure  consolation  of  heart,  any  in- 
terior sunshine,  it  is  shared  by  those  that  are  zealous  in  the  fulfilment  of 
God's  law,  that  have  preserved  their  innocence  from  youth,  or  have  re- 
gained it  by  sincere  repentance.  But  this  consolation  arises  from  the 
well-founded  hope  of  future  bliss  rather  than  from  the  actual  fulfilment 
of  our  desires.  The  virtuous  are  happy  because  they  have  "  a  promise  to 
pay,"  and  not  because  they  have  received  the  actual  payment  of  the  debt 
of  Divine  Justice.  They  rejoice  because,  though  in  exile  during  this 
short  night  of  time,  they  hope  to  dwell  in  their  true  country  during  the 
great  eternity  of  to-morrow.  They  rejoice  because  they  are  heirs  appar- 
ent of  God's  kingdom.  Take  from  them  this  hope,  and  the  sunshine  in 
their  heart  will  soon  be  changed  to  gloom.  "  If  in  this  life  only  we  be 
hoping  in  Christ,  we  are  more  miserable  than  all  men."  Why  was  St. 
Paul  so  cheerful  in  his  dungeon  in  Rome  on  the  eve  of  his  execution  ? 
Because,  as  he  tells  us,  "  a  crown  of  justice  is  laid  up  for  me,  which  the 
Lord,  the  just  Judge,  will  render  to  me  on  that  day." 

Thus  we  see  that  neither  riches,  nor  honors,  nor  pleasures,  nor  knowl- 
edge, nor  the  endearments  of  social  and  family  ties,  nor  the  pursuit  of  virtue, 
can  fully  satisfy  our  aspirations  after  happiness.  Combine  all  these  pleas- 
ures as  far  as  they  are  susceptible  of  combination.  Let  each  of  their 
sources  be  augmented  a  thousand-fold.  Let  all  these  intensified  grati- 
fications be  concentrated  on  one  man,  let  him  have  the  undoubted  assur- 
ance  of  enjoying  them  for  a  thousand  years,  yet  will  he  be  forced  to  ex- 
claim :  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  and  all  is  vanity  !  "  The  more  delicious  the 
cup,  the  more  bitter  the  thought  that  death  will  dash  it  to  pieces. 

Now,  if  God  has  given  us  a  desire  for  perfect  felicity,  which  He  intends 
to  be  one  day  fully  gratified ;  and  if  this  felicity,  as  we  have  seen,  cannot 
be  found  in  the  present  life,  it  must  be  reserved  for  the  time  to  come. 
And  as  no  intelligent  being  can  be  contented  with  any  happiness  that  is 
finite  in  duration,  we  must  conclude  that  it  will  be  eternal,  and  that,  con- 
sequently, the  soul  is  immortal.  Life  that  is  not  to  be  crowned  with  im- 
mortality, is  not  worth  living.  "  If  a  life  of  happiness,"  says  Cicero,  "  is 
destined  to  end,  it  cannot  be  called  a  happy  life Take  away  eter- 
nity, and  Jupiter  is  not  better  off  than  Epicurus." 


CARDINAL  GIBBONS.  263 

Without  the  hope  of  immortality,  the  condition  of  man  is  less  desir- 
able than  that  of  the  beast  of  the  field. 

"  Or  own  the  soul  immortal,  or  invert 
All  order.    Go,  mock  majesty !  go,  man ! 
And  bow  to  thy  superiors  of  the  stall : 
Through  ev'ry  scene  of  sense  superior  far : 
They  graze  the  turf  untill'd ;  they  drink  the  stream 
Unbrew'd  and  ever  full,  and  unembittered 
With  doubts,  fears,  fruitless  hopes,  regrets,  despairs." 

We  may  well  exclaim  with  Augustin :  "  Thou  hast  made  us,  0  Lord, 
for  Thyself,  and  our  hearts  are  restless  till  they  rest  in  Thee." 

"  Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast : 
Man  never  Is,  but  always  To  be  blest : 
The  soul  uneasy  and  confined  from  home. 
Rests  and  expatiates  in  a  life  to  come." 

Addison  clearly  portrays  the  philosophical  mind  of  Cato  in  the  follow- 
ing lines,  which  are  as  commendable  for  sublimity  of  expression  as  for 
depth  of  reasoning : 

"  It  must  be  so.    Plato,  thou  reason'st  well ! 
Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire. 
This  longing  after  immortality  1 
Or  whence  this  secret  dread  and  inward  horror 
Of  falling  into  nought  ?     Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself  and  startles  at  destruction  } 
'Tis  the  Divinity  that  stirs  within  us  ; 
'Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter. 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 
Eternity  !  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought ! 
Through  what  variety  of  untried  being, 
Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass  ! 
The  wide,  the  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me ; 
But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 
Here  will  I  hold.     If  there's  a  power  above  us, 
(And  that  there  is,  all  nature  cries  aloud 
Through  all  her  works)  he  must  delight  in  virtue ; 
And  that  which  he  delights  in,  must  be  happy. 


The  soul  secure  in  her  existence,  smiles 

At  the  drawn  dagger,  and  defies  its  point. 

The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 

Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years. 

But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth. 

Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements. 

The  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crush  of  worlds." 


264  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

But  if  our  unaided  reason  assures  us  that  our  soul  will  live  beyond  the 
grave,  how  much  more  clearly  and  luminously  is  this  great  truth  brought 
home  to  us  by  the  light  of  Revelation  ;  for  the  light  of  reason  is  but  as 
the  dim  twilight  compared  with  the  noonday  sun  of  Revelation.  How 
consoling  is  the  thought  that  the  word  of  God  comes  to  justify  and  sanc- 
tion our  fondest  desires  and  aspirations  for  a  future  life! 

"  The  souls  of  the  just,"  says  the  Book  of  Wisdom,  **  are  in  the  hand 
of  God,  and  the  torment  of  death  shall  not  touch  them.  In  the  sight  of 
the  unwise  they  seemed  to  die,  and  their  departure  was  taken  for  misery. 
....  But  they  are  in  peace,  and  their  hope  is  full  of  immortality." 

Man  may  imprison  and  starve,  may  wound  and  kill  the  body  ;  but  the 
soul  is  beyond  his  reach,  and  is  as  impalpable  to  his  touch  as  the  sun's  ray. 
The  temple  of  the  body  may  be  reduced  to  ashes,  but  the  spirit  that  ani- 
mated the  temple  cannot  be  extinguished.  The  body, 'which  is  from  man, 
man  may  take  away ;  but  the  soul,  which  is  from  God,  no  man  can  de- 
stroy. "The  dust  shall  return  into  its  earth  from  whence  it  was,  and  the 
spirit  to  God  who  gave  it."  *'  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of 
this  dwelling  be  destroyed,  we  have  a  building  from  God,  a  house  not 
built  with  hands,  everlasting  in  the  heavens." 

The  Scripture  also  declares  that  the  blessed  shall  be  rewarded  with 
never-ending  happiness,  exempt  from  all  pain  and  misery:  "God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ;  and  death  shall  be  no  more>  nor 
mourning,  nor  wailing,  nor  sorrow  shall  be  any  more,  for  the  former 
things  are  passed  away." 

The  beatitude  of  the  righteous  will  essentially  consist  in  the  vision 
and  fruition  of  God :  "  Blessed  are  the  clean  of  heart,  for  they  shall  see 
God."  "  We  know  that  when  He  shall  be  manifested,  we  shall  be  like 
Him,  because  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is." 

We  can  form  no  adequate  idea  of  the  felicity  of  the  Saints,  for  as  the 
Apostle  tells  us,  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  human  experience,  as  it  is 
above  the  power  of  human  conception :  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  what  things  God  hath 
prepared  for  those  who  love  Him."  As  well  might  one  born  blind  at- 
tempt to  picture  to  himself  the  beauty  of  the  landscape,  as  for  the  eye  of 
the  soul  to  contemplate  the  supernal  bliss  that  awaits  the  righteous  in 
what  is  beautifully  called  "  the  land  of  the  living." 

Not  only  shall  the  soul  possess  eternal  rest,  but  the  body,  companion 
of  its  earthly  pilgrimage,  shall  rise  again  to  share  in  its  immortal  bliss. 
Fifteen  hundred  years  before  Christ,  Job  clearly  predicts  the  future 
Resurrection  of  the  dead  as  he  gazes  with  prophetic  eye  on  the  Redeemer 
to  come :  "  I  know,"  he  says,  "  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  in  the  last 
day,  I  shall  rise  out  of  the  earth,  and  I  shall  be  clothed  again  with  my 


CARDINAL   GIBBONS.  265 

skin,  and  in  my  flesh  I  shall  see  my  God."  And  the  prophecy  of  the 
Patriarch  is  amply  confirmed  by  our  Redeemer  Himself:  "All  who  are 
in  the  graves  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  they  who  have 
done  good,  shall  come  forth  unto  the  Resurrection  of  life." 

"  The  body,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  shall  rise  in  in- 
corruption  ;  it  is  sown  in  dishonor,  it  shall  rise  in  glory ;  it  is  sown  in 
weakness,  it  shall  rise  in  power ;  it  is  sown  a  natural  body,  it  shall  rise  a 

spiritual  body For  this  corruptible  shall  put  on  incorruption  :  and 

this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality.  But  when  this  mortal  shall  have 
put  on  immortality,  then  shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying  which  is 
written:  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory." 

Whether  our  immortality  will  be  happy  or  miserable,  rests  with  our- 
selves. It  rests  with  ourselves  whether  we  shall  be,  as  the  Apostle  Jude 
expresses  it,  "  wandering  stars  for  whom  the  storm  of  darkness  is  reserved 
forever";  or -whether  we  are  destined  to  be  bright  stars  shining  forever  in 
the  empyrean  of  heaven,  reflecting  the  unfading  glory  of  the  Sun  of  Jus- 
tice. O  let  us  not  barter  an  eternal  happiness  for  a  fleeting  pleasure ! 
Let  us  strive  by  a  good  life  to  obtain  a  blissful  immortality.  "  What 
things  a  man  shall  sow,  those  also  shall  he  reap.  For  he  that  soweth  in 
his  flesh,  of  the  flesh  also  shall  reap  corruption.  But  he  that  soweth  in 
the  Spirit,  of  the  Spirit  also  shall  reap  life  everlasting." 

When  Sir  Thomas  More  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  of  London  by 
Henry  VHL  for  refusing  to  take  an  oath  that  would  sully  his  conscience, 
he  was  visited  by  his  wife,  who  thus  bluntly  saluted  him :  "Why,  Mr. 
More,  I  marvel  much  that  you  who  have  hitherto  been  taken  for  a  wise 
man,  will  now  so  play  the  fool  as  to  lie  here  in  this  close,  filthy  prison, 
shut  up  with  mice  and  rats,  when  you  might  be  abroad  at  your  liberty  en- 
joying the  favor  of  the  king  and  council.  You  might  dwell  in  peace  in 
your  fair  house  at  Chelsea  with  your  library,  gallery,  and  garden,  and  be 
merry  in  company  with  me,  your  good  wife,  your  children  and  house- 
hold." 

"  Why,  good  Alice,"  said  he  with  a  winning  smile,  "  is  not  this  prison 
as  near  heaven  as  my  own  house  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  tilly  vally !  filly  vally !  "  she  replied  with  a  sneer  of  contempt. 

"  Nay,  then,  Alice,"  More  continued,  "  how  long,  think  you,  one  might 
live  to  enjoy  this  house  of  ours  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  some  twenty  years." 

"  Well,  now,  my  good  Alice,  he  were  a  very  bad  calculator  that,  for  a 
hundred  or  a  thousand  years,  would  risk  the  loss  of  an  eternity." 


BISHOP   CONROY. 


Right  Reverend  George  Conroy,  D.D.,  Apostolic  Delegate  to  Canada 
and  Newfoundland,  was  born  in  Ireland  in  the  year  1833.  In  1857  he  was 
ordained  priest  and  Doctor  of  Divinity,  and  in  1871  Dr.  Conroy  was  ele- 
vated to  the  Episcopacy.  In  the  year  1877  he  was  appointed  Apostolic 
Delegate  to  Canada.  In  1878  Bishop  Conroy  made  a  tour  of  the  United 
States,  and  in  August  of  the  same  year  he  departed  this  life,  at  St.  John's, 
N.  F.,  aged  48  years. 


C267) 


Movvows  jof  the  ifacvcxl  Scatrt. 


FEAR  OF   DIVINE  JUSTICE. 

*•  For  because  sentence  is  not  speedily  pronounced  against  the  evil,  the  childrea 
of  men  commit  evils  without  any  fear." — ECCLES.  viii.  ii. 

N  that  wonderful  dialogue  in  the  Book  of  Job,  wherein  God 
condescends  to  justify  His  own  conduct  before  His  creature,  the 
Almighty  explains  the  want  of  foresight  and  the  recklessness 
of  consequences  apparent  in  some  of  the  brute  creation,  by 
saying  that  He  had  deprived  them  of  reason,  and  that  neither  did  He  give 
them  understanding.  Only  to  man  did  He  vouchsafe  this  gift  of  reason  and 
understanding,  and  only  in  the  children  of  men,  therefore,  may  we  expect 
to  find  the  faculty  of  comparing  one  thing  with  another,  of  tracing  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect,  of  forecasting  the  consequences  of  present 
actions,  and  of  estimating  their  present  actions  according  to  the  conse- 
quences that  are  to  follow  them.  Elevated  by  the  possession  of  reason 
above  the  level  of  the  rest  of  creation,  man  gazes  down  upon  the  vast 
network  of  cause  and  effect  that  girdles  and  keeps  together  the  universe ; 
and  it  is  at  once  the  title  and  the  privilege  of  his  sovereignty  that  he  can 
follow  out  its,  various  threads,  as  they  bind  together  in  various  relations 
being  with  being,  and  action  with  action.  Ask  of  the  metaphysician,  and 
he  will  tell  you  that  the  highest  function  of  the  mind  is  nothing  higher 
than  this  faculty  of  comparison  of  relations.  Inquire  from  the  philoso- 
pher, and  you  will  find  that  he  reserves  his  praise  for  that  system  which 
teaches  us  to  arrive  at  general  laws  by  a  calm  and  patient  study  of  par- 
ticular cases.  Listen  to  the  views  of  a  great  statesman,  and  you  will  find 
them  valuable  because  they  give  correctly  the  bearings  of  one  public  act 
upon  another.  We  should  expect  that  to  happen  which  we  really  find 
by  experience,  that  for  the  reasoning  man  no  act  stands  by  itself,  but 
that  it  leans  on  some  other,  or  is  the  result  of  some  other,  or  has  in  itself 
the  virtue  to  produce  some  other.  But  to  this  rule  is  it  not  strange  that 
there  should  be  an  exception?  And  is  it  not  stranger  still  that  this 
exception  should  occur  in  the  matter  which,  of  all  others,  by  its  tran- 
scendent importance  demanded  the  strictest  and  most  careful  attention: 
I  mean  the  commission  of  mortal  sin.  The  children  of  men,  says  the 
text  I  have  quoted  for  you,  commit  evils  without  any  fear.  And  why? 
Because  they  ignore  the  connection  between  sin  and  the  punishment  of 

(269) 


270  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

sin ;  because  they  separate  the  crime  from  its  penalty ;  because  they 
make  sin  stand  by  itself,  and  then  draw  a  curtain  between  it  and  the  venge- 
ance that  follows  after  it,  deliberately  banishing  that  fear  which  would 
stir  the  veil.  They  teach  themselves  to  think  of  sin  without  thinking  of 
its  punishment ;  they  say  to  themselves,  "  I  have  tinned,  and  what  harm 
has  befallen  me?"  And  so  they  go  on  losing  that  holy  fear  which  is  the 
beginning  of  wisdom,  until  at  length  they  drink  in  iniquity  like  water. 
And  how  does  this  come  to  pass,  my  brethren  ?  If  we  analyze  the  passion 
of  fear  we  shall  find  that  two  distinct  ideas  go  to  form  it — the  apprehension 
of  evil,  and  the  persuasion  that  such  danger  threatens  ourselves.  To 
destroy  fear  of  God's  punishment  for  sin  we  must  teach  ourselves  either 
to  believe  that  there  is  no  such  thing,  or  at  least  we  must  have  no  appre- 
hension of  its  being  likely  to  overtake  us.  Now,  the  Catholic  who  sins 
without  any  fear  does  not,  my  brethren,  abandon  his  faith  in  the  exist- 
ence of  punishment  for  sin.  For  a  man  in  such  a  state  of  sin  has  no  ter- 
rors ;  he  feels  no  fear  in  offending  God ;  and,  beloved  brethren,  the  man 
who  feels  no  fear  in  offending  God,  the  man  for  whom  sin  is  a  mere 
pastime,  a  thing  of  nothing,  that  man  does  not,  at  least  consciously, 
believe  that  there  is  no  punishment  for  sin.  How  could  he  ?  A  God 
who  does  not  punish  evil  is  a  God  who  shows  Himself  to  be  indifferent  to 
evil,  and  a  God  who  shows  Himself  indifferent  to  evil  is  a  God  who  is 
regardless  of  the  truth  ;  for  what  is  sin  but  a  lie  which  falsely  proclaims 
the  creature  to  be  more  than  the  Creator,  and  a  God  regardless  of  the 
truth  is  no  God  at  all.  No !  they  admit  that  sin  is  to  be  punished.  How, 
then,  do  they  kill  this  salutary  fear  ?  Because  they  do  not  see  God 
baring  His  arm  for  immediate  vengeance  after  sin,  because  they  do  not 
see  the  punishment  tread  close  on  the  sin,  they  persuade  themselves  that 
they  have  nothing  to  apprehend,  that  they  may  continue  to  drink  in 
iniquity  like  water ;  and  so  without  fear  the  wicked  children  of  men  com- 
mit evils  against  the  Most  High  God.  If  the  murderer's  arm  should  fall 
powerless  before  his  victim's  blood  was  yet  dry  upon  it ;  if  the  blas- 
phemer was  stricken  dumb  before  the  sound  of  his  evil  words  had  died 
away;  if  a  foul  leprosy  should  suddenly  fall  upon  the  man  who  should  be 
guilty  of  those  abominations  which  the  Apostle  says  should  be  unnamed 
^mong  us,  the  sinner  could  not  think  of  sin  as  separate  from  its  punish- 
ment. But  after  his  sin  he  finds  himself  as  sound  as  before ;  the  sun  is 
made  to  rise  as  bright  for  the  sinner  as  for  the  just ;  the  rains  of  heaven 
fertilize  the  earth  for  him  as  well  as  for  the  saint ;  the  world's  beauty  is 
as  fair  to  his  eye  as  to  that  of  the  holiest ;  in  a  word,  he  says  :  "  I  have 
sinned,  and  what  am  I  the  worse  for  it  ?  "  This  is,  indeed,  a  delusion,  a 
most  fatal  delusion,  but  one  for  which  there  is  no  excuse. 

Holy  Job  exclaims :  "  O  that  a  man  might  so  be  judged  with  God,  as 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  271 

the  son  of  man  is  judged  with  his  companion  ! "  (Job  xvi.  22).  If  this 
privilege,  which  Job  sighed  for  in  vain,  were  granted  to  such  a  man  as  the 
one  we  are  just  considering;  if  against  God's  accusation  he  were  allowed 
to  enter  a  defense  of  his  state  of  mind,  as  one  man  does  when  engaged  in 
a  lawsuit  with  another,  think  you,  my  brethren,  that  he  could  find  any 
pretext  which  could  serve  to  excuse  him  ?  To  form  an  accurate  judg- 
ment on  this  point,  recall  to  mind  the  decision  given  in  similar  cases  in 
Holy  Scripture.  "  Behold,  among  His  saints  none  is  unchangeable,  and 
the  heavens  are  not  pure  in  His  sight.  How  much  more  is  man  abomina- 
ble, and  unprofitable,  who  drinketh  iniquity  like  water"  (Job  xv.  15,  16). 
'*  Now  they  have  no  excuse  for  their  sin,"  says  our  Lord,  of  the  world ; — 
and  why  ?  "  Because  I  have  come  and  spoken  to  them."  "  They  are  inex- 
cusable," says  St.  Paul  of  the  pagan  philosophers.  And  why?  Because 
the  things  that  are  made  testified  and  showed  forth  that  divinity  which 
they  denied.  That  is  to  say,  according  to  God's  views,  the  more  numerous 
the  witnesses  and  the  clearer  their  testimony  to  any  truth,  the  more  inex- 
cusable he  who  refuses  to  believe  it.  If,  then,  the  pagan  philosophers  were 
without  excuse  because  they  closed  their  ears  to  the  testimony  of  earth  and 
sky,  of  night  and  day,  of  the  starry  firmament,  as  they  mutely  witness  to 
the  existence  of  God,  how  much  more  sins  the  bad  Catholic  who  hardens 
his  heart  against  the  cloud  of  witnesses  that  give  evidence  of  the  imme- 
diate vengeance  taken  by  God  on  sinners ! — I  say  a  cloud  of  witnesses, 
my  brethren,  for  it  is  a  most  remarkable  fact  that  God  has  given  exam- 
ples of  speedy  vengeance  on  sin  in  every  class  of  reasonable  beings,  in 
every  dispensation  with  which  He  has  been  pleased  to  visit  man,  in  every 
class  of  society,  in  every  age,  in  every  kind  of  sin,  in  every  country,  in 
every  profession,  in  every  state  of  life.  Do  you  want  a  witness  to  God's 
speedy  vengeance  from  the  very  sunlight  of  the  world's  history  ?  Before 
the  blood  of  Abel  was  yet  dried  upon  the  earth  its  cry  had  drawn  from 
the  lips  of  God  a  deadly  curse  on  the  murderer  Cain.  And  Cain  himself 
lifts  up  his  voice :  "  Behold  Thou  dost  cast  me  out  this  day,  this  very  day 
of  my  sin,  from  the  face  of  the  earth." 

In  the  patriarchal  age  the  iniquities  of  a  corrupt  world  rose  up  before 
God  in  the  days  of  Noah,  and  in  the  days  of  Noah  the  Deluge  bears  wit- 
nesses as  numerous  as  are  the  corpses  of  young  and  old  that  are  dashed 
among  the  waves  of  its  shoreless  sea ;  among  pagan  populations  the  unbe- 
lieving men  of  Sodom  are  struck  blind  in  the  very  hour  of  their  iniquity, 
and  their  city  becomes  a  prey  to  the  flames ;  in  the  Jewish  dispensation, 
Core,  Dathan,  and  Abiron,  the  blasphemers  and  Sabbath-breakers,  are 
stoned  without  the  camp.  In  the  New  Testament,  Ananias  lies  to  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  immediately  falls  dead  to  the  ground ;  Sapphira  lies, 
and  the  feet  of  them  who  have  buried  her  husband  are  at  the  door  to 


272  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

carry  her  away.  Herod  is  arrayed  in  king's  apparel,  and  sitting  in  the 
judgment-seat,  and  the  people  make  exclamation,  saying :  "  It  is  the 
voice  of  a  god,  not  of  a  man"  (Acts  xii.).  And  forthwith  an  angel 
of  the  Lord  struck  him,  because  he  had  not  given  the  honor  to  God,  and 
being  eaten  up  with  worms  he  gave  up  the  ghost.  One  such  example  in 
each  of  these  dispensations  was  enough  to  inspire  fear  into  the  men  of 
that  time ;  how  is  he  to  be  excused  who  is  deaf  to  their  cumulative  testi- 
mony ?  Is  it  not  madness  to  imagine  that  God  will  deliberately  depart 
in  his  case  from  the  law  which  He  followed  in  the  beginning,  in  the  days 
of  the  patriarchs,  under  the  law  of  Moses,  in  the  early  days  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  ?  We  do  not  dread  a  repetition  of  the  Deluge,  because  God 
has  promised  that  it  should  not  be,  and  has  attested  the  memory  of  this 
promise  by  the  bow  that  spans  the  heavens.  But  is  there  any  promise, 
any  rainbow  of  hope  that  He  will  not  punish  at  once,  immediately,  irre- 
sistibly, the  sins  we  may  be  guilty  of  ?  He  has  left  us  no  loophole  of 
excuse  for  so  thinking.  Do  we  flatter  ourselves  that  our  sins  are  not 
such  as  theirs  were,  who  were  punished  so  promptly?  But  what  kind  of 
sin  has  He  left  not  punished  with  instant  chastisement :  in  Adam  a  simple 
disobedience,  in  Cain  a  deed  of  blood,  in  Sodom  a  sin  of  lust,  in  David  a 
sin  of  vanity,  in  Aman  a  sin  of  words,  and  in  His  angels  a  sin  of  thought. 
Do  we  flatter  ourselves  that  our  position  will  in  some  measure  secure  us ; 
— but  what  station  in  society  has  He  left  without  an  example  ?  Are  we 
as  high  as  the  angels? — and  yet  He  crushed  the  angels  in  an  instant. 
Are  we  as  low  as  the  Sodomites  ? — and  yet  He  slew  them  immediately. 
Are  we  in  a  position  of  worldly  greatness  ?  Herod  was  so  great  that  he  was 
called  a  god,  and  yet  he  was  struck  down.  Are  we  rich  ? — so  was  Herod  ; 
are  we  poor? — so  were  Ananias  and  Sapphira  ;  are  we  old  ? — so  was  Heli ; 
are  we  young? — so  was  Cain. 

In  view  of  these  terrible  judgments  of  God,  how  can  the  sinner  per- 
suade himself  that  his  punishment  is  only  in  the  long  future?  How  can 
the  soul  now  stained  with  sin  flatter  itself  that  it  will  have  time  to  enjoy 
sin  now,  and  leisure  to  repent  hereafter?*  How  can  a  Catholic  surrender 
his  heart  to  temptation,  with  the  idea  that  the  punishment  is  so  remote  ? 
Not  so  did  David:  '^Confige  timore  tuo carnes  meas'\-  and  why?  '^Ajudi- 
ciis  enim  tiiis  timui."  Then,  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  such  a  frame  of 
mind ;  it  is  unreasonable,  inexcusable.  That  men  should  sin  at  all  is 
inexcusable ;  but  that  they  should  perpetrate  evils  without  any  fear,  be- 
cause they  refuse  to  think  of  the  punishment  of  sin,  is  most  inexcusable. 
But  here  it  may  be  said  that  my  argument  has  been  one-sided,  and  there- 
fore not  to  be  trusted.  No  doubt  it  will  be  urged,  God  has  in  all  ages 
and  in  all  circumstances  given  many  and  terrible  proofs  of  His  prompt 
justice ;  but  in  relating  the  history  of  such  examples  we  should  not  ex- 


BISHOP  CONROY.  273 

elude  the  many  instances  of  patient  endurance,  and  of  long-suffering  with 
sinners  which  He  has  exhibited.  And  perhaps  the  words  of  the  apostle 
may  be  quoted  against  us,  "  Despisest  thou  the  riches  of  His  goodness, 
and  patience,  and  long-suffering  ?  Knowest  thou  not  that  the  benignity 
of  God  leads  thee  to  penance?"  (Rom.  ii.  4).  And  do  not  the  very  words 
of  the  text  suppose  that  at  least  now  and  then  the  interval  between  the 
sin  and  its  punishment  is  not  of  the  shortest,  that  sentence  is  not  speed- 
ily pronounced  against  evil? 

I  know,  my  brethren,  that  God  is  long-suffering  with  sinners,  and  that 
He  waiteth  patiently  to  have  mercy  on  them.  If  I  were  cruel  enough  to 
deny  it,  the  history  of  our  own  lives  would  rise  in  witness  against  me. 
Yes,  my  brethren,  it  is  true  and  I  admit  it,  we  sin,  and  yet  the  arrows  of 
the  divine  punishments  of  which  David  speaks  do  not  reach  us.  But 
why? — Is  it  because  those  arrows  have  not  been  aimed  at  us?  Is  it  be-- 
cause  having  been  aimed  they  have  not  flown  ?  Is  it  because  having 
been  aimed  and  having  flown  they  have  not  known  how  to  hit  the  guilty 
breast  ?  No ;  for  none  of  these  reasons  ;  but  because,  between  avenging 
heaven  and  sinful  earth,  the  sinner  and  his  judge,  uprose  the  pure  and 
holy  figure  of  Jesus  Christ,  baring  His  breast  so  as  to  intercept  the  shaft 
in  its  flight  toward  us,  receiving  the  bruises  that  were  to  punish  our 
iniquities,  and  mangled  with  the  wounds  that  were  to  avenge  our  sins. 
We  are  in  peace  because  He  took  upon  Himself  the  chastisement  which 
was  to  bring  us  peace ;  in  one  word,  my  brethren,  we  have  escaped  thus 
long  from  the  punishment  of  our  sins,  only  because,  as  Isaias  says,  Jesus 
Christ  on  the  cross  hath  borne  the  sins  of  many,  and  hath  prayed  for  the 
transgressors.  And  is  it  upon  long-suffering  such  as  this,  which  Mercy 
has  purchased  from  Justice  at  so  fearful  a  price  as  the  Blood  of  the  Son 
of  God,  that  you  would  reckon  in  order  to  be  able  to  sin  without  any  fear? 
Oh,  the  unspeakable  meanness,  the  incredible  selfishness  of  the  man  who 
says  to  himself,  "  I  will  sin  without  fear,  because  another  has  undertaken 
to  bear  the  first  brunt  of  the  punishment ;  I  will  sin  without  fear,  because 
Christ  has  prayed  for  pardon  for  me,  because  He  has  died  to  obtain  for 
me  time  for  repentance."  *'  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do." 

Such  a  one,  my  brethren,  would  efface  these  tender  and  loving  words 
from  the  millions  of  hearts  in  which  they  are  inspired,  and  would  substi- 
tute in  their  stead  words  so  blasphemous,  so  hideous,  that  I  can  hardly 
bear  to  repeat  them.  "  Father,"  he  would  force  the  dying  lips  of  Jesus 
to  utter,  "  Father,  these  men  know  that  I  am  dying  for  them  ;  they  know 
that  this  crown  of  thorns,  these  cruel  nails,  these  cruel  wounds,  are  the 
marks  of  punishment  due  to  their  sins ;  they  know  that  Thy  justice  will 
be  appeased  by  my  sufferings ;  they  know  that  Thy  right  hand  is  dis- 


274  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

armed  by  my  death,  and  for  this  reason  do  they  sin  without  any  fear; 
do  Thou,  therefore,  Father,  forgive  them,  because,  knowing  all  this,  they 
nevertheless  sin  against  Thee.  Father,  forgive  them,  because  they  know 
not  what  they  do  !  " 

The  delay  of  punishment,  therefore,  because  it  is  a  proof  of  loye,  and 
because  through  it  God  endeavors  to  win  the  sinner  to  justice,  should  not 
destroy  fear  in  his  heart.  Nor,  my  brethren,  have  you  any  right  to  think 
that  such  delay  is  a  delay  of  love ;  it  is  in  itself  the  most  terrible  sign  of 
God's  wrath.  There  is  a  long-suffering  on  the  part  of  God,  which,  the 
apostle  tells  us,  is  intended  for  penance :  but  there  is  a  long-suffering 
which,  the  same  apostle  declares,  is  intended  to  show  wrath.  God,  will- 
ing to  show  His  wrath,  and  make  known  His  power,  did  what? — did  He 
judge  the  nations,  did  He  fill  up  ruin,  did  He  crush  the  heads  of  His  foes? 
No,  but  He  did  what  was  far  more  terrible,  "  He  endured  with  much  pa- 
tience vessels  of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction."  **  God  has  been  patient 
with  you  in  your  sins,"  I  would  say  to  the  man  whom  this  very  patience 
makes  courageous,  "  but  has  He  shown  you  a  patience  of  love,  or  a  pa- 
tience of  vengeance  ?  Am  I  to  congratulate  you  as  being  the  object  of 
the  unspeakable  love  of  God,  or  am  I  to  weep  over  you  as  the  victim  of 
His  most  deadly  vengeance?  "  This  is  a  question  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance to  you,  and  it  is  a  question  you  can  answer  in  some  measure  for 
yourselves.  As  light  differs  from  darkness,  as  day  from  night,  so  does 
the  patience  born  of  mercy  differ  in  its  effects  from  the  patience  born  of 
the  wrath  of  God.  The  Magdalen  was  waited  for  and  she  came  pot  as 
yet ;  He  still  waited  for  her  and  she  laid  aside  her  sin,  and  grace  super- 
abounded  where  sin  had  abounded  before.  The  philosophers  of  ancient 
Greece  and  Rome  were  waited  for,  and  they  came  not ;  God  ordered 
them,  and  they  came  not ;  and  then  He  left  them  to  the  desire  of  their 
own  hearts,  to  a  life  filled  with  all  iniquity,  and  malice,  and  fornication, 
and  avarice,  and  wickedness,  while  they  gilded  over  all  these  with  the 
name  of  wisdom,  of  good  common  sense  ;  for  professing  to  be  wise,  they 
became  fools.  In  which  of  these  two  ways  does  God's  patience  affect 
your  life  ?  Is  yours  the  life  of  a  Christian  who,  crying  out  to  God  from 
the  depths,  keeps  up  a  daily,  steady  warfare  against  the  sins  and  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  or  do  you  live  only  to  gratify 
all  the  desires  of  your  own  hearts,  forgetful  of  the  evil  past  ?  Do  you, 
like  Magdalen,  draw  near  to  Jesus  Christ,  to  look  for  the  forgiveness  you 
feel  you  do  not  deserve,  or  do  you  keep  away  weeks  and  months,  and 
perhaps  years  from  the  sacraments  of  the  Catholic  Church,  where  you 
may  find  Him  and  His  grace?  Do  you  give  the  reasonable  service  of 
love  and  obedience  to  the  faith  and  the  practices  of  the  Church,  or  do 
you  form  the  judgment  which  the  world  passes  on  the  supernatural,  be- 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  275 

coming  fools  when  you  profess  to  be  most  wise  ?  These  are  questions, 
this  an  investigation  I  have  neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  pursue 
further :  but  if  you  find  that  your  life  is  similar  to  that  of  the  philos- 
opher, must  you  not  fear  that  the  patience  God  is  certain  to  show  you 
is  the  patience  of  vengeance?  Must  you  not  doubt  that  while  you  be- 
come fearless  at  what  you  think  delays  punishment,  that  supposed  delay 
was  itself  punishment  of  the  most  terrible  order? — and  is  it  possible  that 
any  one  can  close  his  heart  against  the  fear  of  God  for  such  a  delay  of 
punishment? 

This,  then,  my  brethren,  is  the  case  I  make :  the  Holy  Scripture  com- 
plains that  men  sin  without  any  fear,  and  that  they  are  without  fear  be- 
cause they  do  not  see  sentence  immediately  pronounced  upon  evil.  Now, 
jio  man,  in  view  of  the  numberless  instances  of  prompt  vengeance,  can 
with  any  security  believe  for  a  moment  that  God  will  not  punish  him  at 
once ;  and  if  he  have  any  apparent  reason  to  think  that  God  is  waiting 
for  him  in  mercy,  he  is  surely  not  warranted  by  such  reason  to  exclude 
fear  from  his  heart,  especially  as  he  cannot  be  certain  that  the  very  delay 
of  punishment  is  not  in  itself  a  most  terrible  punishment.  What,  then, 
are  we  to  do  ?  We  are  to  identify  in  our  minds  the  thought  of  sin  and 
of  its  punishment,  we  are  not  to  think  of  sin  without  thinking  of  its  pen- 
alty, we  are  to  work  out  our  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling.  Should 
our  memory  recall  the  thoughts  of  the  past,  we  are  to  think  of  it  as  hav- 
ing entailed  on  us  a  punishment  which  penance  only  can  remove ;  should 
sin  present  itself  in  the  present  or  future,  let  us  remember  that,  however 
seductive  its  beauty,  it  has  infallibly,  inseparably  connected  with  it  the 
avenging  punishment  of  God. 

Yet  our  fear  must  not  be  a  grossly  servile  fear:  it  must  not  be  that 
cowardly  fear  which  checks  only  the  hand  from  the  evil  deed  which  the 
heart  continues  to  desire  ;  but  that  rational  fear,  which  while  it  checks 
the  hand  from  doing,  teaches  the  heart  not  to  lose  itself  in  guilty  desires. 
*'Bo7ius  est''  says  St.  Augustine,  ^' iste  timor  utilis  est."  Nor,  my  breth- 
ren, are  you  to  rest  at  this :  you  are  to  love  God  as  well  as  to  fear  Him. 
God  calls  for  your  love,  for  a  deep,  tender,  personal,  supreme  love.  Per- 
haps as  yet  this  love  for  God  is  but  a  tender,  fragile  seedling  springing 
up  in  your  hearts ;  if  so,  then  let  fear  be  its  prop  and  its  support,  and 
when  your  love  has  grown  to  ripeness,  fear  shall  fall  away  and  leave  your 
love  alone.  You  shall  be  alone  with  God ;  for  God  is  love,  and  loving 
Him  and  loved  by  Him,  you  will  taste  forever  the  unspeakable  sweet- 
ness of  the  saying  of  St.  John,  "  Perfect  charity  casteth  out  fear." 


FIRST   SUNDAY   OF   LENT. 

"  Remember,  man,  that  thou  art  dust,  and  unto  dust  thou  shalt  return." 

|FTER  many  days*  wandering  in  the  desert  of  Bersabee,  the 
forlorn  Agar  perceived  at  length  that  the  hand  of  death  was 
upon  her  son  Ismael.  With  keenest  grief  she  laid  him  down 
in  the  shade  of  "  one  of  the  trees  that  were  there,  and  she 
went  her  way,  and  sat  over-against  him  a  great  way  off,  as  far  as  a  bow 
can  carry,  for  she  said :  I  will  not  see  the  boy  die :  and  sitting  over- 
against,  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept"  (Gen.  xxi.  15,  16).  This 
mother,  my  brethren,  could  not  endure  to  witness  the  agony  which  death 
was  about  to  bring  upon  her  child  ;  she  fled  from  the  sight  of  the  sorrow 
and  desolatic)n  which  death  in  its  approach  casts  like  a  shadow  upon  the 
sOul.  Far  different  is  the  conduct  of  our  mother,  the  Church,  toward  us 
at  the  commencement  of  this  holy  season  of  Lent.  Not  only  does  she 
bear  to  look  upon  the  sorrow  that  settles  on  our  heart  at  the  thought  of 
death,  but  she  deliberately  sets  herself  to  produce  that  sorrow.  Unlike 
Agar,  she  bursts  into  no  passionate  wailing  over  our  coming  doom,  but 
she  makes  her  voice  stern  enough  to  tell  us  herself  of  the  sentence  passed 
against  us ;  far  from  shunning  what  would  remind  her  of  our  death,  she 
realizes  it  by  a  most  striking  symbol,  when  with  her  own  hand  she  strews 
with  ashes  each  proudest,  and  noblest,  and  fairest  brow  of  the  children  of 
men  ;  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust ;  mingling  the  ashes  that  are  dead  with 
the  ashes  yet  alive,  that  the  lifeless  clay  may  remind  its  kindred  clay,  so 
soon  to  be  lifeless,  that  man  is  dust,  and  unto  dust  fated  to  return.  How 
is  this,  my  brethren  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  mother  who  bears  man  into  this 
world  weeps  to  see  death's  sadness  on  him,  while  the  mother  who  brings 
man  forth  for  heaven  seems  to  be  glad  that  he  should  thus  sorrow?  Why 
is  it  that  the  one  cannot  bear  to  look  upon  his  anguish,  while  the  other 
herself  bids  his  tears  to  flow,  and  would  fain  by  her  stern  message  have 
him  taste  all  the  bitterness  of  the  memory  of  death  ?  And  yet,  my  breth- 
ren, in  that  stern  message  there  is  an  undertone  of  love,  with  which  the 
Church  seems  to  say  to  us  what  the  apostle  said  to  the  Corinthians  :  "  Al- 
though I  made  you  sorrowful  by  my  words,  I  do  not  repent :  and  if  I  did 
repent,  seeing  that  the  same  (though  but  for  a  time)  did  make  you  sorrow 
ful,  now  I  am  glad  :  not  because  you  are  made  sorrowful,  but  because  you 
are  made  sorrowful  unto  penance ;  .  .  .  .  for  the  sorrow  that  is  accord- 
(376) 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  2Y7 

ing  to  God  worketh  penance  unto  salvation  "  (2  Cor.  vii.  8-10).  In  awaken- 
ing in  us  at  this  time  the  thoughts  of  our  coming  death,  the  Church  in- 
tends not  to  fill  us  with  melancholy,  but  to  lead  us  to  penance.  The 
memory  of  death  scatters  broadcast  the  seeds  of  sorrow,  but  upon  the 
growing  sorrow  the  Church  would  engraft  what  will  bring  forth  fruits 
worthy  of  penance.  Death  is  our  punishment,  she  would  make  it  our 
remedy ;  death  is  the  penalty  of  sin,  she  would  teach  us,  by  the  message 
of  the  text  to-day,  how  to  change  it  into  an  incentive  to  virtue. 

And,  first  of  all,  observe,  my  brethren,  that  she  does  not  present  her- 
self as  if  announcing  some  new  truth  hitherto  unknown  to  you ;  she  does 
but  exhort  you  to  remember,  to  recall  to  your  mind  what  you  have  had 
occasion  to  learn  before  now.  She  would  have  you  bring  before  your 
mind  that  scene  on  the  threshold  of  Eden,  when  first  this  dread  sentence 
was  pronounced,  when  an  angry  God  disclosed  to  guilty  man :  "  In  the 
sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread  till  thou  return  to  the  earth,  out  of 
which  thou  wast  taken :  for  dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  thou  shalt  re- 
turn "  (Gen.  iii.  19).  Such  recollections  cannot  fail  to  lead  us  to  penance. 
Remember  that  this  so  much  dreaded  death  is  but  the  punishment  of  sin, 
and  that  sin  is  the  cause  of  death.  Had  there  been  no  sin,  then  there  had 
been  no  death,  for  God  would  have  hedged  in  man  from  its  inroads.  By 
one  man  sin  came  into  the  world,  and  by  sin  death.  How,  then,  can  man 
go  on  cherishing  and  loving  that  very  sin  which  has  brought  upon  us  an 
evil  we  so  much  fear?  Let  sin  be  ever  so  attractive,  let  it  be  decked 
with  all  that  is  bright,  and  fascinating,  and  winning,  we  can  never  ap- 
proach it  without  approaching  at  the  same  time  that  death  which  ever 
follows  it  as  closely  as  shadow  follows  upon  sunshine.  The  honey  on 
which  Jonathan  feasted  was  luscious  and  delightful;  but,  think  you, 
would  he  have  enjoyed  its  sweetness  had  he  known,  as  later  he  knew, 
that  under  its  sweetness  lurked  the  bitterness  of  death  ?  "  Fasting,  I 
have  tasted  a  little  honey,  and  so  I  must  die."  If  death  be  an  evil,  then 
sin  must  be  an  evil ;  if  death  be  no  evil,  why  does  the  Church's  message 
of  to-day  cast  gloom  upon  our  souls? 

Remember,  besides,  who  it  is  that  inflicts  death  as  the  punishment  of 
sin.  It  is  God :  that  is  to  say,  a  Being  so  just  that  He  cannot  exceed  in 
the  severity  of  His  punishments,  a  Being  so  holy  that  He  cannot  harbor 
thoughts  of  undue  resentment,  a  Being  so  merciful  that  all  His  works  are 
tempered  with  tenderest  compassion.  And  yet  this  just,  and  holy,  and 
merciful  God  has  judged  that  death,  the  greatest  of  earthly  evil ;  death, 
that  has  brought  upon  man  woes  innumerable,  is  but  part  of  the  fitting 
punishment  deserved  by  sin.  Sin,  therefore,  must  be  an  evil  so  great 
that  the  death  we, dread  is  scarcely  its  equivalent ;  and  remembering  this, 
how  are  we  not  moved  to  detest  the  blindness  which  has  taught  us  to 


2Y8  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

prize  what  we  should  most  abhor.  Remember,  again,  how  strangely  sin 
has  affected  the  almighty  power  of  God.  What  could  be  more  loving 
and  tender  than  what  God's  power  did,  before  His  anger  was  stirred  by 
sin,  for  His  creature  man?  How  fair  the  earth  God  had  created  for  his 
use !  how  pleasant  the  paradise  planted  for  his  enjoyment !  how  light  the 
command  laid  upon  him  to  be  the  source  of  merit !  how  joyous  the  life 
He  gave  him !  how  beautiful  the  soul,  rich  in  a  thousand  gifts  of  nature 
and  of  grace !  All  God's  power  seems  to  have  been  busied  about  him,  to 
bless  him  and  make  him  happy ;  and  yet,  such  was  the  poison  of  one  sin, 
that  this  power,  hitherto  omnipotent  to  bless,  became  omnipotent  to  pun- 
ish. Paradise  was  lost,  God's  graces  and  gifts  were  forfeited,  the  earth 
became  a  place  of  misery,  man's  life  a  weary  struggle  with  sorrow,  and 
disease,  and  toil,  to  end  at  last  in  the  grand  defeat  of  death.  Is  it  not 
madness,  then,  on  the  part  of  sinners,  to  go  on  deliberately  to  outrage 
that  God  whose  power  to  punish  sin  is  so  mighty  ?  God  gave  Adam  a 
command ;  Adam  broke  it  and  sinned ;  and  swift  upon  his  sin  came  pun- 
ishment with  all  the  might  of  an  angry  God.  God  gave  us  commands ; 
we  break  them  and  sin :  upon  what  grounds  dare  we  hope  to  escape  ? 

And  if  the  circumstances  under  which  this  message  had  been  first  de- 
livered dispose  us  to  penance,  much  more  so  does  the  substance  of  the 
message  itself,  by  what  it  tells  both  of  our  present  state  and  of  what  one 
day  is  to  happen  to  us.  "  Remember,  man,  that  thou  art  dust."  This 
is  said  to  each  one  of  us  in  particular.  When  we  think  of  death,  we  gen- 
erally think  of  it  as  it  affects  others,  or  we  reason  about  it  as  about  a 
question  of  philosophy  in  the  abstract ;  but  with  the  thoughts  of  our  own 
death  we  do  what  we  do  with  the  dead  themselves,  we  hurry  to  hide 
them  and  bury  them  deep  out  of  sight.  Death  in  connection  with  our- 
selves we  see  only  in  the  long  future,  and  by  aid  of  this  convenient  ab- 
straction we  are  enabled  to  give  ourselves  up  to  seek  for  our  happiness 
among  the  sensible  goods  of  this  earth.  But  the  recollection  that  we  are 
dust  must  perforce  detach  us  from  that  inordinate  love  of  pleasures,  and 
riches,  and  honors  which  makes  up  all  the  sin  of  our  lives.  It  is  because 
we  implicitly  promise  ourselves  many  years  of  life,  that  with  the  infidels 
in  the  Scripture,  we  seek  so  keenly  for  pleasure,  saying  with  them :  "  Come, 
therefore,  and  let  us  enjoy  the  good  things  that  are  present,  and  let  us 
speedily  use  the  creatures  as  in  youth.  Let  us  fill  ourselves  with  costly 
wine,  and  ointments,  and  let  not  the  flower  of  the  time  pass  by  us :  let  us 
crown  ourselves  with  roses  before  they  be  withered  :  let  no  meadow  escape 
our  riot :  let  none  6f  us  go  without  his  part  in  luxury  "  (Wisd.  ii.).  But 
even  while  these  words  are  on  our  lips  we  are  warned  that  we  are 
but  dust,  and  that  we  are  to  die  we  know  not  how  soon.  If  we  resolve 
upon  sinful  enjoyment  of  the  good  things  that  are  present,  death  may 


BISHOP   CON  ROY.  279 

smite  us  down  in  their  midst :  the  time  we  destine  for  delight  may  be 
the  hour  of  our  agony  ;  we  may  die  before  the  roses  are  withered  which  we 
gather  for  our  revels  ;  the  meadow  we  select  for  our  joyous  riot  may  be  our 
grave.  This  unbridled  lust  of  pleasure,  this  life  of  mere  enjoyment  on 
the  part  of  men,  who  are  but  dust,  is  called  by  the  Holy  Ghost  blindness  and 
malice,  even  in  those  infidels  who  knew  not  the  secrets  of  God,  nor  hoped 
for  the  wages  of  justice.  And  yet  to  these  men  death  -meant  simply 
annihilation.  "  Our  body  shall  be  ashes,"  said  they,  "  and  our  spirit  shall 
be  poured  abroad  as  the  soft  air  ...  .  like  a  mist  which  is  driven  away 
by  the  beams  of  the  sun."  And  if  even  in  those  darkened  souls  the  lust  of 
pleasure  was  blindness  and  malice,  what  is  it  in  us  who  know  the  secrets 
of  God,  who  believe  that  the  wages  of  our  deeds  await  us  beyond  the 
grave,  who  are  certain  that  when  our  bodies  die  our  souls  shall  live  for- 
evermore  ?  We  know  death  is  to  the  sinner  the  beginning  of  endless 
misery  ;  we  know  that  between  sinful  pleasures  and  the  awful  anger  of  the 
living  God  there  is  but  the  barrier  of  the  moment  of  death  ;  and  since  we 
are  but  dust,  that  death  may  come  upon  us  at  any  moment.  Is  it  not, 
then,  almost  incredible  audacity  to  persevere  in  sin,  since  the  very  God 
we  outrage  is  He  who  holds  in  His  hands  our  life  and  our  death?  Daniel 
had  no  language  to  depict  the  folly  of  the  hapless  king  more  forcible  than 
this  :  "  The  God  who  hath  thy  breath  in  His  hand,  and  all  thy  ways,  thou 
hast  not  glorified."  With  the  lust  of  pleasure  mingles  the  fever  of  strug- 
gle for  success,  of  money-making,  of  business,  of  achieving  position — 
things  good  enough  in  their  way,  but  which,  through  our  own  fault,  over- 
master us  by  the  hold  they  have  upon  us. 

And,  again,  we  complacently  recite  to  our  own  hearts  the  list  of  the 
honors  we  have  achieved  and  the  riches  we  have  accumulated,  and  we 
say,  like  the  rich  man  in  the  Gospel :  "  My  soul,  thou  hast  many  good 
things  laid  up  for  many  years'  enjoyment ;  take  thy  rest,  eat,  drink,  and 
make  good  cheer."  The  worldly  goods  to  which  we  cling  are,  no  doubt, 
enough  for  the  enjoyment  of  many  years,  but  who  will  promise  us  the 
many  years  wherein  to  enjoy  them  ?  The  announcement  made  to  that 
rich  man :  "  Thou  fool,  this  night  do  they  require  thy  soul  of  thee,  and 
whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast  provided  ?  "  is  re-echoed  in 
the  message  delivered  to  us  to-day — that  we  are  dust.  Give  a  man  the 
best  position  that  even  his  greedy  heart  can  desire  ;  let  him  enjoy  all  that 
makes  the  prizes  of  life,  the  struggle  for  which  absorbs  us  so  often  to  the 
forgetfulness  of  our  souls'  concerns ;  give  him  wealth,  and  reputation, 
and  honored  name ;  and  when  he  shall  have  become  what  Job  was  in  the 
bloom  of  his  prosperity,  great  among  all  the  people  of  his  country,  what 
is  he,  after  all,  but  a  passing  stranger  in  the  midst  of  all  his  greatness  ? 
Should  he  call  himself  owner  of  those  goods,  ask  him  to  prove  his  title 


280  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

by  retaining  them  as  his  own  forever ;  and  if,  being  dust,  he  cannot  re- 
tain them,  if  he  is  to  go  out  from  amongst  them  stripped  of  all  his  riches, 
then  he  is  but  a  sojourner,  and  not  a  master.  And  if  so,  shall  we  neglect 
for  those  things,  which  in  spite  of  ourselves  we  must  leave,  the  care  of 
our  souls,  and  thereby  forfeit  the  riches  that  remain  forever  ? 

Finally,  my  brethren,  we  are  warned  to-day  of  something  which  is 
one  day  to  happen  to  us,  and  in  this  warning  we  are  once  more  exhorted 
to  penance:  "  Into  dust  thou  shalt  return."  These  words  tell  us  of  a 
sore  affliction  coming  upon  us  which  can  find  no  consolation  but  in  God. 
God  has  been  so  merciful  toward  us  as  to  hide  from  us  the  day  in  which 
our  dissolution  shall  take  place ;  but  we  are  here  reminded  that  it  is  in- 
evitable, and  that  one  dreadful  moment  shall  come  for  each  one  of  us,  in 
which  others  will  tell  us,  or  we  shall  tell  ourselves,  "  For  me  life  is  over; 
I  must  die."  My  brethren,  who  but  God  alone  can  soften  the  bitter 
agony  of  that  awful  moment  ?  All  the  goods  of  earth,  all  the  science,  all 
the  love  of  our  nearest  and  dearest,  all  the  strength  of  our  own  manhood 
— of  what  avail  will  they  be  to  lighten  that  supreme  sorrow  ?  Ezechias 
was  a  sovereign  whose  life  had  been  spent  amid  all  that  makes  life  sweet ; 
and  yet,  upon  hearing  the  words,  "  thou  shalt  die  and  shalt  not  live,"  he 
wept  with  much  weeping.  Saul  had  a  daring  spirit,  and  yet  when  he 
heard  from  Samuel  that  on  the  morrow  he  should  die,  he  fell  forthwith 
on  the  ground,  for  he  was  frightened  with  the  words.  Even  to  those 
who  have  lost  all,  that  moment  is  full  of  anguish.  Agag,  deprived  of 
crown,  country,  friends,  liberty,  yet  cried  out  at  the  approach  of  death. 
Oh  !  bitter  death,  "doth  bitter  death  separate  in  this  manner?"  Darker 
than  the  gloom  that  encompassed  him,  wilder  than  the  passionate  hate  of 
his  foes,  was  the  fear  that  rushed  in  upon  him  at  the  sight  of  his  coming 
death.  But  if  we  would  learn  how  weak  and  panic-stricken  one  feels  in 
the  awful  presence  of  death,  look  in  the  Garden  of  Olives,  at  the  prostrate 
figure  of  Him  in  whom  our  human  nature  existed  in  its  highest  and  most 
perfect  form.  And  if  He  found  no  consolation  in  His  sorrow  save  in  this, 
that  He  was  doing  the  will  of  His  Father,  if  the  comfort  that  came  to 
Him  came  only  from  the  angels  of  God,  where  shall  we  turn  for  our  com- 
fort and  consolation  except  to  that  same  God  ?  But  if,  through  neg- 
lect of  penance,  we  have  made  that  God  our  enemy,  how  will  it  add  to 
our  desolation  to  think  that  we  are  about  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
living,  outraged  God  ?  But  if  before  that  moment  we  shall  have  done 
penance,  if  we  shall  have  bewailed  our  sins  and  made  God's  will  the  rule 
of  our  life,  oh  !  how  sweet  it  will  be  to  return  to  dust  in  those  same  hands 
that  once  from  the  dust  had  moulded  us,  those  very  hands  which  for  us, 
penitent  sinners,  were  crucified  for  love  !  What  though  at  that  moment 
our  poor  nature  cannot  unlearn  its  lifelong  fear  of  death ;  what  though 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  281 

death  appears  to  claim  victory  over  us,  His  love  will  mingle  with  our 
fear,  as  in  the  dawn  light  mingles  with  the  darkness ;  and  we  shall  know 
that  He  has  wrested  from  the  grave  its  victory,  from  death  its  sting. 
No ;  the  torment  of  death  shall  not  touch  the  souls  of  the  just,  since 
through  death  Christ  hath  destroyed  him  who  had  the  empire  of  death, 
and  delivered  them  who  through  the  fear  of  death  were  all  their  lifetime  sub- 
ject to  servitude  (Heb.  ii.  14,  15).  But  all  this  happiness,  all  this  consola- 
tion, belongs  only  to  those  who  shall  have  done  penance. 

Remember,  then,  my  brethren,  that  you  are  dust,  and  that  into  dust 
you  shall  return,  and  let  the  remembrance  serve  to  excite  within  you  the 
spirit  of  penance ;  let  it  teach  you  to  abhor  the  sin  which  has  been  the 
cause  of  your  death,  the  sin  of  whose  malignity  its  woes  are  but  the  faint 
expression,  the  sin  whose  poison  changed  life  into  death  ;  let  the  thought 
that  you  are  dust  detach  you  from  all  inordinate  love  of  the  pleasures, 
and  riches,  and  honors  of  this  world,  so  that  in  seeking  them  and  using 
them  you  may  not  neglect  the  eternal  welfare  of  your  souls.  Let  the 
thought  of  your  coming  dissolution  move  you  to  lay  up  treasures  of  con- 
solation for  the  suffering  of  the  day  of  affliction.  But  lest  in  these 
thoughts  you  may  be  overwhelmed  with  too  great  sadness,  bear  in  mind 
that  if  the  thought  that  you  are  dust  stirs  up  terror  in  your  heart,  that 
self-same  thought  that  you  are  dust  awakens  in  God's  heart  an  inexpress- 
ible tenderness  and  compassion  toward  you.  "  He  knoweth  our  frame," 
saith  the  Psalmist ;  "  He  remembereth  that  we  are  dust  "  (Ps.  cii.  13,  14). 
And  therefore  "  as  a  father  hath  compassion  on  his  children,  so  hath  the 
Lord  compassion  on  them  that  fear  Him."  Your  very  terror  of  death 
may  thus  be  made  an  argument  of  confidence.  The  more  terrible  it  is, 
the  more  tender  and  compassionate  toward  you  becomes  the  heart  of 
your  Father  who  is  in  heaven.  Even  in  the  very  moment  of  our  death, 
when  at  last  that  punishment  of  sin  shall  have  overtaken  us  trembling, 
we  have  the  right  to  call  upon  God  no  longer  by  the  name  of  Judge,  but 
by  the  meet  name  of  Father,  and  into  that  Father's  hands  we  may  with 
confidence  commend  our  spirit.  Thus  did  the  Church,  by  her  sanctify- 
ing touch,  convert  our  natural  sorrow  for  death  into  a  sorrow  according 
to  the  Lord  which  worketh  penance  unto  salvation.  And  thus  by  the 
almost  omnipotent  efficacy  of  penance  the  Justice  and  the  Mercy  of  God 
are  made  to  meet  over  the  head  of  the  dying  penitent  Christian ;  and  if 
Justice  exacts  death  as  the  punishment  of  sin,  Mercy  makgs  out  of  the 
punishment  itself  a  stronger  claim  to  pardon.  And  thus  by  virtue  of 
penance  in  death  are  blended  together  God's  forgiveness  and  man's  sor- 
row, like  light  and  darkness  in  the  twilight  when  the  dawn  is  breaking  in 
the  East ;  and  thus,  through  penance,  is  the  sadness  of  death  evermore 
swallowed  up  in  the  joy  of  victory. 


i 

1 

STATIONS  OF  THE  CROSS. 

\F  external  honor  rendered  to  the  Passion  of  Christ  is  all  that 
Christ  asks  from  us  Christians,  then,  my  brethren,  you  have 
every  reason  to  hope  that  your  Saviour  looks  down  upon  you 
to-day  with  eyes  of  satisfaction  and  love.  As  a  Christian  is 
known  by  the  sign  of  the  cross,  so  the  very  situation  of  your  town  is  made 
manifest  to  the  traveller,  when  still  far  from  it,  by  this  beautiful  church, 
which,  crowning  this  height,  is  raised,  as  it  were,  between  your  homes 
and  the  heavens,  a  link  between  both,  through  which  your  prayers  as- 
cend, to  descend  in  a  thousand  graces  from  God  upon  you.  And  what 
feeling  has  raised  this  church  but  a  desire  to  do  honor  to  that  altar  on 
which  day  after  day  the  death  of  the  Lord  is  shown  forth  ?  God  has 
been  lavish  to  your  native  spot,  and  has  poured  over  its  hills  and  valleys 
a  wealth  of  beauty,  of  which  only  rare  drops  are  bestowed  elsewhere ; 
and  you  have  in  return  remembered  Him.  If  His  hand  has  crowded 
beauties  about  you,  for  your  benefit,  your  hands  have  not  been  slack  in 
crowding  beauties  about  His  cross  for  the  honor  of  that  same.  And  to- 
day, my  brethren,  you  are  here  to  add  another  work  of  heaven  to  His 
Passion  by  erecting  here  the  Stations  of  the  Cross,  whereby  you  may  be 
enabled  ever  to  keep  before  your  eyes  the  thought  of  all  that  your  Re- 
deemer has  suffered  for  you.  To  honor  the  Passion  you  have  searched 
the  bosom  of  the  earth  for  the  hard  rock  which  you  moulded  into  spring- 
ing columns  and  clustering  arches  ;  to  honor  the  Passion  you  have  sought 
for  trees  in  the  forest  which  you  might  shape  into  goodly  forms  of  use 
and  beauty  for  this  edifice ;  to  honor  the  Passion  you  have  brought  from 
nature  the  wax  of  the  teeming  bee,  from  industry  the  labors  of  the  loom 
to  adorn  the  altar,  the  fairest  flowers  of  the  garden  to  perfume  the  sanctu- 
ary ;  you  have  made  even  the  sunlight  of  heaven  tributary  to  your  rever- 
ence, since  you  will  not  allow  its  rays  to  fall  upon  the  tabernacle,  but 
across  rich  colors,  from  which  you  teach  it  to  burn  new  glory  and  new 
beauty ;  and  to-day  you  have  assembled  in  crowds  to  put  up  another  and 
most  explicit  testimony  of  the  honor  in  which  you  hold  your  Redeemer's 
sufferings.  If,  then,  external  honor  is  all  that  is  required  by  God,  never 
did  people  better  fulfil  their  duty  than  you  ;  but  you  know  well,  my 
brethren,  that  the  God  who  complained  of  the  Jews  that  they  honored 
Him  with  their  lips,  whilst  their  hearts  were  far  from  Him,  does  not 
(282) 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  285 

stand  in  need  of  our  goods,  but  of  our  hearts ;  that  all  we  do  for  Him  is 

unprofitable  unless  it  be  the  type  of  the  homage  of  our  heart.  The  ex- 
ternal honor  we  pay  Him  should  be  like  an  impression  on  wax,  of  which 
the  seal  is  the  love  of  our  hearts.  And,  to  speak  more  especially  of  what 
we  are  doing  to-day,  do  you  think  that  God  would  value  your  offerings  if 
they  were  nothing  more  than  simple  ornaments  such  as  men  set  up  in 
their  homes?  Do  you  think  that  He  would  esteem  them  unless  as  the 
expression  of  the  feelings  excited  in  you  by  Him  for  His  sorrows  ?  He 
certainly  would  not :  He  wants  not  our  images,  nor  our  paintings,  who 
made  all  things.  Those  paintings,  therefore,  are  for  each  one  of  you  an 
act  by  which  you  express  the  feelings  that  our  Saviour's  sufferings  have 
excited  in  you.  Now  I  would  have  you  to  remember,  my  brethren,  that 
the  events  of  the  Passion,  when  they  really  occurred,  were  seen  by  very 
different  people,  and  excited  very  different  feelings  in  them  according  t'o 
their  different  dispositions.  The  Jews  saw  the  Passion,  and  Mary  saw 
the  Passion ;  the  same  persons  were  under  the  eyes  of  both,  the  same 
words  fell  upon  their  ears.  But,  oh,  how  far  different  were  the  judgments 
and  the  feelings  that  were  borne  by  each  !  The  one  consented  to  the 
suffering,  the  other's  heart  was  rent  by  it.  Now,  my  brethren,  in  the 
same  way  the  events  of  the  cross  are  represented  on  these  pictures,  and, 
as  we  said,  God  accepts  from  each  of  you  these  pictures  as  an  expression 
of  the  feelings  His  sufferings  have  awakened  in  your  hearts:  the  figures 
are  the  same,  but  the  feelings  may  be  different ;  if  so,  my  brethren,  in 
the  eyes  of  God  to-day  these  stations  have  as  many  different  meanings  as 
your  hearts  have  thoughts  about  Christ.  A  picture  is  but  a  painted 
word,  and  a  word  is  but  the  expression  of  a  thought ;  these  pictures, 
then,  represent  Christ  as  you  conceive  of  Him  in  your  hearts.  Such, 
then,  as  Christ  is  in  your  thoughts,  such  shall  He  be  before  God  in  the 
pictures  you  present  to  Him,  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  my  brethren, 
that  you  should  carefully  inspect  and  examine  what  kind  of  feelings  are 
those  which  fill  your  hearts  to-day  about  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  Christ. 

My  brethren,  I  would  do  an  injustice  to  you  if  even  for  a  moment  I 
could  suspect  that  among  you  there  is  even  one  who  in  the  devotion  of 
this  day  does  not  wish  to  pay  a  tribute  of  respect  and  tender  affection  to 
our  Saviour.  I  will  be  your  spokesman.  "  Yes,  O  my  Saviour,  my 
outraged,  insulted  Lord,  elsewhere,  indeed,  this  morning  ungrateful  men 
may  insult  Thee  and  spurn  Thee,  elsewhere  men  may  heap  contumely  on 
Thy  holy  person ;  but  here,  here  at  least,  there  is  a  faithful  people,  each 
one  of  whom  is  anxious,  in  the  devotion  of  this  day,  to  salute  Thee  with 
honor,  and  reverence,  and  respect.  Elsewhere  men  may  turn  their  backs 
upon  Thee,  but  there  is  not  one  here  who  does  not  long  to  approach  near 
to  Thee,  to  press  his  sinful  lips  to  the  hem  of  Thy  garment,  for  we  hardly 


284  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

dare  to  touch  Thy  divine  face  ;  elsewhere  let  men  revile  Thee  in  words ; 
of  all  those  present  there  is  not  one  who  will  not  bid  Thee  hail  a  thousand 
times."  But  even  while  I  speak,  my  brethren,  a  cold  chill  falls  across  my 
soul,  and  a  terrible  thought  checks  my  utterances.  Did  not  Judas 
say  as  much  to  Jesus  as  I  have  now  said  for  you  ?  Did  he  not  approach 
our  Lord  with  downcast,  reverent  eyes  as  you  have  done?  Did  he  not 
come  close  to  Him,  did  he  not  open  his  accursed  arms  to  embrace  Him, 
did  he  not  press  the  Lamb  to  his  perjured  heart,  did  he  not  fix  upon  the 
countenance  of  the  Holy  of  Holies  a  kiss  of  tender  salutation  as  warm 
as  yours  ?  Could  it  be  possible,  then,  my  brethren,  that  there  is  any  one 
among  you  whose  devotion  to-day  is  only  an  act  of  treachery  and 
hypocrisy  as  was  that  of  Judas?  Can  it  be  possible  that  there  is  any  one 
to  whom  at  this  moment  our  Lord  is  saying,  as  He  sees  him  before  Him 
taking  part  in  worship,  "  Judas,  wouldst  thou  then  betray  the  Son  of  Man 
with  a  kiss?  Dost  thou  come  here  to  betray  me  by  joining  in  devotion 
to  my  honor?"  Oh,  my  brethren,  I  am  compelled  to  believe  that  it  is 
possible.  Judas  was  an  apostle,  you  are  not  so  high;  Judas  was  the 
chosen  friend  of  Christ,  you  have  not  had  that  grace ;  what  Judas  did, 
you  may  do.  Perhaps  the  mark  of  Judas  is  on  some  of  your  souls 
to-day ; — and  what  is  in  this  mark  ?  Avarice,  my  brethren,  and  greed  of 
unjust  gain.  If  there  be  any  one  here  to-day,  who,  for  the  sake  of  gaining 
a  few  shillings,  or  less,  would  not  hesitate  to  commit  sins,  and  sell  his 
God ;  if  there  be  any  one  who  has  laid  up  to  himself  the  property  of 
another ; — that  man  has  the  mark  of  Judas  upon  him ;  and  to-day,  my 
brethren,  whilst  he  is  here  pretending  to  pay  respect  to  his  God,  he  is 
betraying  his  Saviour  with  a  kiss. 

Did  Judas  honor  Christ,  although  he  kissed  Him  so  reverently?  No, 
no,  but  he  insulted  Him  by  his  pretended  devotion  far  more  than  if  he 
had  struck  Him  a  blow.  Think  of  these  two  things — Judas  devout  to 
Christ,  and  Judas  selling  Him  for  thirty  pieces — and  answer  me,  could 
Christ  accept  his  homage  ?  Then  say  of  yourself :  I  am  here  to-day  to 
venerate  the  Passion  of  Christ,  when  I  know  that  I  have  sold  Him  for  a 
little  unjust  gain :  and  answer,  can  Christ  accept  your  devotion  tc-day  ? 
Oh,  no,  my  brethren,  if  you  would  please  Christ  to-day  you  must  have 
all  the  respect  of  Judas  without  any  of  his  hypocrisy ;  you  must  not 
only  show  but  feel  love  for  Christ  under  all  circumstances. 

I  ask  you,  then,  to-day,  do  your  hearts  glow  with  love  for  your 
suffering  Lord?  I  do  not  mean  apparent  love,  superficial  love,  but  that 
love  of  which  Augustine  says,  vera  devotio  imitare  quod  colimus — a  love 
not  of  words,  but  of  deeds,  a  love  of  the  crucifix  which  crucifies  the  world 
to  you,  and  you  to  the  world  :  a  love  which  makes  you  mortify  your 
passions  because  Christ  is  suffering  for  you,  which  makes  you  given  to 


BISHOP   CON  ROY.  285 

penance  because  Christ  is  hanging  on  the  cross,  which  teaches  you  to 
keep  in  check  every  desire.  My  question,  then,  means,  do  you  love 
suffering,  denial  of  self-gratification,  penance,  abstaining  from  the  pleasures 
of  the  world,  because  Christ  is  overwhelmed  with  such  ?  I  will  not  conceal 
from  myself,  my  brethren,  that  it  is  hard  for  our  hearts  to  love  Christ's 
suffering  in  this  way.  Our  hearts  are  so  fond  of  pleasure,  of  indulging 
in  what  is  gay,  and  bright,  and  happy,  that  they  find  great  difficulty  in 
loving  a  Saviour  whose  soul  is  one  sea  of  sorrow  and  tenderness,  whose 
body  is  one  mass  of  bruises,  whose  very  sight  puts  to  flight  the  follies 
and  the  pleasures  we  love  in  the  world.  But  if  you  have  not  this  in  some 
measure,  how  can  you  say  that  you  sympathize  with  Jesus  ? — for  sympathy 
means  fellowship  in  suffering,  and  if  you  love  not  such  suffering  as  Christ 
bears,  how  can  you  say  you  share  it  with  Him?  It  would  not  be  so  hard,, 
you  think,  to  love  Him  as  He  was  when  a  tender  infant,  or  when  He 
healed  the  sick,  and  gave  sight  to  the  blind,  and  made  the  lame  to  walk, 
and  raised  the  dead  to  life ;  but  it  is  hard  to  love  Him  bruised,  melancholy, 
sombre,  and  grieving.  My  brethren,  it  is  for  that  very  reason  we  ought 
to  love  Him ;  it  is  because  He  is  filled  with  suffering  that  you  ought  to 
love  Him. 

You  might  have  some  excuse  for  not  loving  Him,  suffering  as  He  is, 
if,  when  He  began  to  love  you,  He  found  you  exposed  to  no  suffering  or 
saddened  by  no  calamity.  If  He  came  to  you  and  found  you  happy, 
cheerful,  a  source  of  joy,  not  condemned  to  any  punishment,  and  if  He 
loved  you  as  such ; — then,  perhaps,  you  might  refuse  Him  your  love 
because  He  was  not  so  happy  as  you,  but  rather  covered  with  woe.  Now, 
in  what  condition  did  our  Saviour  find  you?  Can  there  be  any  state 
imagined  more  full  of  suffering  than  ours?  In  our  soul — in  our  body — in 
our  sickness — death — hell?  Call  to  mind  all  the  punishments  due  to  sin, 
multiply  them  as  often  as  sin  has  been  committed  in  the  world,  then  say 
these  sufferings  were  to  be  undergone  by  me  when  my  Saviour  first  loved 
me ;  if,  then,  Christ  so  loved  you,  although  condemned  to  such  punish- 
ments as  these,  ought  you  not  in  return  love  Him,  although  He  is  filled 
with  suffering,  cis  you  see  ? 

You  should  share  His  sufferings,  then,  my  brethren,  even  although 
they  were  altogether  His  own.  But,  O  my  God,  are  these  sufferings — the 
very  sight  of  which  often  saddens  us — are  they  His,  or  not  rather  ours? 
Surely  He  had  no  suffering  of  His  own,  that  is,  none  that  He  did  not 
endure  for  our  salvation.  "  Surely  He  hath  borne  our  infirmities,  and 
carried  our  sorrows:  and  we  have  thought  Him,  as  it  were,  a  leper,  and  as 
one  struck  by  God  and  afflicted.  But  He  was  wounded  for  our  iniquities, 
He  was  bruised  for  our  sins :  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon 
Him,  and  by  His  bruises  we   are  healed"  (Isaias  liii.  4,  5).     Whence, 


286  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

then,  came  this  sea  of  suffering  ?  for  as  man,  Christ's  body  was  sinless, 
and,  if  sinless,  therefore  painless.  Add  up  all  that  He  endured  :  poverty, 
neglect,  insult,  scorn,  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  scourge,  the  crucifixion  ; — 
they  are  yours,  not  His.  And  shall  we  not  love  Him  the  more  for  the 
very  reason  that  He  is  so  afflicted,  so  bruised  ?  seeing,  too,  that  He  most 
deliberately  accepted  them  all  for  our  sake. 

Not  only  are  they  our  sufferings,  but  He  shows  Himself  most  loving 
when  He  is  most  covered  with  wounds.  We  should  then  love  Christ 
most  when  He  is  most  loving  to  us.  But  He  is  then  most  loving  to  us 
when  He  is  most  covered  with  wounds.  His  whole  life  is  an  act  of  love 
toward  us ;  but  there  are  times  when  His  love  surged  up  in  waves  of 
greater  strength,  glowed  in  flames  of  greater  intensity.  What  are  the 
occasions  when  this  so  happened  ?  When  He  speaks  of  His  Passion. 
Hear  the  words  of  burning  love  He  then  addresses  to  us :  "I  have  a 
baptism  wherewith  I  am  to  be  baptized,  and  how  I  am  straitened  till  it 
be  accomplished  "  (Luke  xii.  50).  "  The  chalice  that  my  Father  gave 
me,  shall  I  not  drink  it?"  (John  xviii.  11).  "Having  loved  those  that 
were  in  the  world.  He  loved  them  to  the  end"  (John  xiii.  i).  Nay,  He 
Himself,  like  a  true  lover,  has  insisted  that  we  should  remember  Hira, 
that  we  should  ever  keep  His  memory  green  in  our  hearts.  When  we 
wish  to  live  in  the  memory  of  our  friends,  Aiy  brethren,  do  we  not  desire 
to  be  remembered  in  the  most  agreeable  light,  with  most  love  and  greatest 
affection?  Well,  then,  "  this  do  ye  in  commemoration  of  me."  He  might 
have  wished  to  be  remembered  as  an  infant,  as  an  obedient  child,  as  a 
benefactor  of  our  race,  as  a  king,  as  a  wonder-worker ;  but  no,  He  wished 
rather  to  live  in  our  memories  as  suffering  for  us.  Would  it  not,  then,  be 
the  blackest  ingratitude  on  our  part  to  love  Him  less  for  that  very  reason 
by  which  He  proves  that  He  loves  us  most  ?  But  it  is  hard  to  love 
suffering  with  a  heart  that  is  inclined  to  love  pleasure.  It  is  hard  to 
forego  present  pleasures  and  present  honors  out  of  love  for  a  suffering 
Redeemer  who  is  not  present,  and  whom  we  do  not  see.  Company,  jests, 
amusements,  gain,  take  a  great  hold  on  the  heart,  and  it  is  hard  to  banish 
them  all  to  go  share  the  sufferings  of  the  Crucified.  Is  it  so,  my  brethren, 
is  it  so  ?  Is  it  difficult  to  forget  present  pleasure  for  future  good  ?  if  so, 
then,  how  do  you  spend  your  days  in  hard  toil  and  not  in  pleasure  ?  Is 
it  hard  to  forego  present  gain  ?  If  so,  why  do  you  commit  to  the  ground 
so  much  seed  with  the  hope  of  future  harvest  ?  How  do  men  spend  time, 
money,  pains,  health,  life,  were  fatigue  ever  unbearable  and  future  joy  of 
no  value  ?  Is  it  possible  that  only  where  Christ  is  concerned  difficulties 
will  spring  up ;  only  when  sin  is  to  be  avoided  that  future  enjoyment  will 
be  valueless  ? 

But  granted  that  it  is  so  difficult,  that  the  heart  dreads  pain  and 


BISHOP  CON  ROY. 


287 


suffering ;  for  that  very  reason  we  ought  to  be  devout  to  the  Passion  of 
Christ.  You  say  that  the  heart  is  made  for  enjoyment ;  I  say  that  it  is 
made  for  sorrow  and  suffering.  Sin  and  sorrow  may  tarry  apart  for  a 
while,  but  in  the  end  they  come  together.  Every  one  must  suffer  sorrow 
and  pain  in  life  or  death.  If  so,  my  brethren,  is  it  not  better  so  to  live  as 
to  have  in  our  day  of  need  comfort,  alleviation,  succor  in  our  distress  ? 
The  question  is  answered  by  being  asked.  But  where  can  the  heart  find 
such  so  truly  as  in  the  Passion  of  Christ?  In  our  distress,  and  especially 
in  our  death,  it  will  be  our  refuge  in  fear,  our  comfort  in  pain. 

Well  then,  my  brethren,  I  will  ask  you  once  more  before  I  present  in 
your  name  these  Stations,  do  your  hearts  glow  with  love  for  the  Passion 
of  Christ  ?  He  found  you  suffering  and  still  loved  you  ; — would  you 
refuse  to  love  Him  because  He  suffered  ?  His  sufferings  were  not  His, 
but  yours ;  will  you  not  love  Him  who  did  this  for  you  ?  He  suffered  to 
show  His  love  for  you  ;  will  you  fear  to  love  Him  ?  Will  you  refuse  to 
do  for  Him  what  you  do  for  the  world  ?  Will  you  deprive  yourself  of  all 
the  help  of  His  Passion  ?  No ;  behold,  then,  O  Saviour,  the  people 
devout  to  Thy  person ;  let  these  Stations  be  a  pledge  of  their  love. 


DANGEROUS  READING. 

E  cannot  better  describe  the  use  and  the  abuse  of  the  art  of 
printing  than  by  employing  the  language  of  two  illustrious 
Roman  Pontiffs,  who  ruled  the  Church,  the  one  at  the  com- 
mencement of  Protestantism,  the  other  in  our  own  day,  when 
the  deadly  effects  of  that  heresy  have  reached  their  development.  Leo 
the  Tenth,  in  the  tenth  session  of  the  Council  of  Lateran,  declares  that 
the  "  art  of  printing  has  been  happily  and  usefully  invented  for  the  glory 
of  God,  for  the  increase  of  the  faith,  and  for  the  diffusion  of  the 
sciences." 

This  was  in  the  first  days  of  the  Reformation.  During  the  three 
hundred  years  that  followed.  Protestantism  arrogated  to  itself  unchecked 
power  over  the  press,  which  it  declared  to  be  a  creation  peculiarly  its 
own,  and,  at  the  end  of  that  period,  Gregory  the  Sixteenth  thus  describes 
the  result :  "  We  are  filled  with  horror  in  seeing  what  monstrous  doc- 
trines, or  rather  what  prodigies  of  error,  we  are  inundated  with  through 
that  deluge  of  books,  of  pamphlets,  and  of  works  of  all  kinds,  the 
lamentable  inroad  of  which  has  spread  a  curse  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth." 

This  testimony  of  the  Pontiff  is  borne  out  by  every  man  who  has  the 
interests  of  religion  and  the  welfare  of  modem  society  at  heart.  We  shall 
mention  two  facts  which  must  impress  even  the  most  careless.  In  France 
a  commission  appointed  by  the  Government  some  years  ago  to  investigate 
the  results  of  the  system  of  book-hawking  {colportage\  in  its  official  report 
addressed  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  declared  that  of  the  nine  mill- 
ions of  works  which  that  system  scattered  broadcast  among  the  popu- 
lace, "  eight-ninths,  that  is  to  say,  eight  millions,  were  books  more  or  less 
immoral." 

In  England  we  know,  on  undisputed  authority,  that  infidel  and  im- 
moral literature  is  a  most  widespread  evil.  Of  Combe's  "  Constitution 
of  Man,"  a  work  of  materialistic  tendency,  and  based  on  a  denial  of  Provi- 
dence, more  than  eighty  thousand  copies  issued  from  the  English  press. 
The  total  annual  issue  of  immoral  publications  amounts  to  twenty-nine 
millions.  In  185 1,  the  purely  infidel  press  in  London  issued  more  than 
twelve  millions  of  publications ;  the  issues  of  avowed  atheism  being 
(288) 


BISHOP  CONROY.  289 

more  than  six  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  All  this  is  exclusive  of  news- 
papers. 

Now,  as  the  literatures  of  France  and  England  divide  between  them 
the  attention  of  the  entire  world,  this  luxuriance  of  infidel  and  immoral 
publications  in  the  two  countries  is  an  argument  from  which  we  may 
safely  conclude  that  the  evils  deplored  by  the  Pontiff  are  almost  co- 
extensive with  what  is  called  modern  civilization. 

This  multiplication  of  bad  books  is  one  of  the  most  deadly  plagues  of 
modern  society.  Men's  minds  have  become  so  fascinated  by  the  glories 
of  the  boasted  liberty  of  the  press,  so  impatient  of  all  control,  especially 
in  the  matter  of  reading,  so  negligent  of  the  precautions  suggested  by 
the  commonest  prudence,  that  the  pernicious  influences  exercised  by 
this  noxious  literature  are  telling  on  every  side.  The  spirit  of  faith  is 
weakened ;  Christian  purity  of  conscience  is  sullied ;  serious  and  solid 
studies  are  in  no  esteem  ;  the  whole  head  is  sick,  the  whole  heart  is  sad. 

An  evil  so  crying  as  this,  and  fraught  with  such  consequences  to  the 
religious  and  social  condition  of  our  country,  imperatively  demands  a 
remedy.  It  is  not  in  our  power  to  propose  a  remed}'-  which  should  meet 
all  the  exigencies  of  the  case ;  but,  at  least,  we  can  remind  Catholic  read- 
ers of  what  their  duty  requires  from  them  in  this  matter.  We  say  to 
them,  therefore,  that  they  are  not  free  to  roam  at  will  through  the  world 
of  books,  reading  whatever  they  please,  no  matter  how  pernicious  to 
their  faith  or  morals ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  they  are  bound  to  subject 
their  reading  to  a  wholesome  discipline,  steadfastly  refusing  to  themselves 
and  to  those  under  their  charge,  not  only  such  books  as  are  positively 
hurtful,,  but  even  such  as  are  dangerous.  i 

Authority  and  reason  unite  in  recommending  this  rule.  Even  Pagan- 
ism in  its  least  corrupt  form  felt  and  acknowledged  this  truth,  that  the 
true  object  of  reading  was  to  instruct,  not  to  pervert.  Their  libraries 
bore  the  noble  inscription  of  treasure-houses  of  remedies  for  the  soul.  The 
Jews  were  naturally  still  more  jealous  of  all  that  could  injure  the  faith  or 
morals  of  God's  chosen  people.  Eusebius  tells  us  that  the  holy  king 
Ezechias  committed  to  the  flames  certain  works  ascribed  to  Solomon, 
fearing  lest  the  people  should,  by  their  perusal,  be  seduced  to  idolatry. 
Even  the  Holy  Scriptures  themselves  were  not  placed  indiscriminately  in 
the  hands  of  all ;  young  persons,  until  they  reached  the  age  of  thirty, 
according  to  St.  Jerome,  or  twenty-five,  according  to  St.  Gregory  Nazi- 
anzen,  were  not  allowed  to  read  Genesis,  certain  chapters  of  Ezechiel, 
and  the  Canticle  of  Canticles. 

The  early  Christians  were  still  more  remarkable  for  the  caution  with 
which  they  avoided  dangerous  books.  Of  this  we  have  a  notable  exam- 
ple recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  how  many  of  those  who  had  fol- 


290  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

lowed  curious  things,  brought  all  their  books  together,  and  burnt  them 
before  all ;  and  so  many  or  so  valuable  were  the  bad  books  thus  con- 
sumed that,  the  price  of  them  being  computed,  the  money  was  found  to 
be  fifty  thousand  pieces  of  silver.  Nor  did  this  spirit  decay  as  time  pro- 
gressed. When  heretics  were  converted  to  the  faith  they  were  not  re- 
ceived into  the  Church  except  upon  the  condition  of  giving  publicly  to 
the  flames  the  suspected  books  of  which  they  were  in  possession.  The 
General  Council  (second)  of  Constantinople,  and  the  General  Council 
(second)  of  Nice,  issued  one  common  anathema  against  heretics  and  their 
books. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  fifth  century  Pope  Anastasius  condemned 
Origen,  his  doctrines  and  his  books,  the  reading  of  which  he  forbade  to 
the  faithful.  In  446,  Pope  Leo  the  Great  made  search  in  every  direction 
for  the  books  of  the  Manichaeans,  and  succeeded  in  destroying  a  large 
quantity  of  them  ;  and,  in  the  following  year,  the  same  Pontiff  wrote  to 
the  bishops  of  Spain,  exhorting  them  to  destroy  the  books  of  the  Priscil- 
lianists.  It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  here  upon  the  enactments  made  to 
the  same  effect  on  this  subject  by  later  Pontiffs ;  and  no  one  can  be  igno- 
rant how  anxiously  they  have  endeavored  to  restrain  the  unbridled  license 
of  the  corrupt  press.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  as  concerning  bad  books, 
the  Catholic  Church  has  a  clearly  defined  policy  of  her  own,  and  that  it 
is  her  manifest  wish  that  her  children  should  reject  with  firmness  not 
merely  such  books  as  are  condemned  by  name,  but  also  those  the  tone  of 
which  is  likely  to  injure  faith  or  morals. 

Our  present  purpose  dispenses  us  from  the  obligation  of  entering  up- 
on a  defense  of  the  legislation,  such  as  we  have  described  it,  adopted  by 
the  Church  in  the  matter  of  bad  books.  Addressing  ourselves  to  Cath- 
olics, we  have  no  need  to  justify  the  principles  on  which  that  legislation 
is  based,  for  no  well-instructed  Catholic  will  think  of  calling  them  in 
question.  But  herein  lies  the  difficulty,  that  whereas  Catholics  readily 
admit  the  necessity  of  stringent  rules  in  matter  of  such  reading  as  really 
endangers  faith  or  morals,  they  are  not  so  easily  convinced  that  in  their 
own  proper  case  such  danger  exists.  Hence,  professional  men  have  little 
or  no  difficulty  in  taking  as  their  instructors  historians,  whose  books  are 
colored  with  anti-Catholic  prejudices,  and  who  give  the  most  distorted 
views  of  the  action  of  the  Church  upon  the  world.  Hence,  writers  on 
jurisprudence,  whose  first  principles  are  wholly  incompatible  with  the 
very  charter  of  the  Church's  existence,  are  allowed  to  form  the  minds  of 
young  Catholic  students.  In  making  choice  of  authors  on  mental  and 
social  philosophy  especially,  it;  appears  to  be  quite  forgotten  that  the 
Church  both  possesses  and  exercises  the  right  of  judging  philosophical 
systems.     The  writer  of  these  lines  has  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing 


BISHOP  CONROY.  291 

the  result  of  this  forgetfulness.  He  has  heard  it  seriously  maintained  by- 
young  Catholics,  otherwise  exemplary,  that  the  Church  not  only  ought 
never  to  pass  judgment  upon  philosophy,  but  ought  to  tolerate  the  errors 
of  philosophy,  leaving  it  to  correct  itself ;  and  that  philosophy  is  to  be 
treated  of  without  taking  any  account  of  supernatural  revelation  ;  and  yet 
these  very  propositions  have  been  condemned  (nn.  xi.,  xiv.)  in  the  Syl- 
labus. Besides,  it  very  generally  happens  that  Catholics  are  constant 
readers  of  some  one  or  other  of  the  periodicals  which  judge  of  passing 
events,  or  of  new  books,  from  a  point  of  view  altogether  anti-Catholic ; 
and  when  they  find  these  oracles,  day  after  day,  occupied  in  proclaiming 
the  merits  of  some  new  work  of  science  or  of  fiction,  which  has  reached 
the  dignity  of  being  called  the  book  of  the  season,  they  become  so  eager- 
ly curious  to  read  it  as  seldom  to  stop  to  consider  whether  they  are  justi- 
fied in  doing  so  or  not.  And  thus  it  happens  that,  while  in  theory  they 
rightly  admit  the  force  of  the  obligation  which  imposes  caution  in  the 
choice  of  books,  they  practically  disregard  it,  not,  indeed,  through  con- 
tempt, but  because  they  cannot  bring  themselves  to  believe  that  in  their 
case  there  is  any  considerable  danger  incurred  by  indiscriminate  reading. 

This  secure  confidence  in  their  own  invulnerability  is  the  source  of 
most  serious  evils,  and  it  is  a  confidence  as  rash  as  it  is  dangerous. 

No  doubt  there  are  a  few  minds  which  have  but  little  to  fear  from  the 
artifices  with  which  error  seeks  to  recommend  itself  under  the  double  at- 
traction of  specious  argument  and  elegant  style.  Such  minds  are  remark- 
able alike  for  singular  vigor  and  for  ripe  judgment ;  thoroughly  disciplined 
to  accurate  reasoning ;  rich  in  large  stores  of  information;  grounded  in 
knowledge  as  well  of  the  object  as  of  the  motives  of  faith ;  and  for  whom 
religion  is  a  living  power  to  control  the  will,  as  well  as  a  system  of  doc- 
trine to  enlighten  the  intellect.  Such  minds  as  these  will  be  able  to  un- 
ravel the  most  intricate  sophism,  to  detect  the  confusion  of  ideas,  and  to 
correct  false  statements  of  fact ;  while  for  all  the  tricks  of  style  under 
which  the  poison  lies  hid  they  will  feel  but  contempt  or  disgust.  But 
men  blessed  with  such  minds  are  few  indeed,  and  even  these  few  may  not 
venture  with  safety  on  the  dangerous  voyage  through  strange  seas  of 
thought.  The  ablest  among  them  have  acknowledged  that,  after  reading 
some  pages  of  works  in  which  error  was  conveyed  with  treacherous  skill 
under  the  most  graceful  forms,  they  were  conscious  of  feeling  ill  at  ease, 
and  of  a  bad  impression  of  an  indefinitely  unsettling  character,  which,  if 
not  shaken  off  at  once  by  a  vigorous  effort,  threatened  to  sap  the  founda- 
tion of  their  strongest  convictions.  If  these  impressions  were  frequently 
repeated,  as  would  naturally  happen  in  cases  where  such  books  are  ha- 
bitually or  often  read,  the  danger  of  the  most  alarming  consequences  is 
but  too  apparent. 


292  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PVLPIT. 

But  the  great  bulk  of  readers  at  present  cannot  lay  claim  to  the  pos- 
session of  intellectual  gifts  of  a  high  order.  In  the  first  place,  their  relig- 
ious knowledge  is  very  limited.  It  is  astonishing  to  find  how  ignorant  of 
the  teaching  of  the  Catholic  Church,  on  many  most  important  points,  is 
the  mass  of  what  is  called  the  reading  public.  No  doubt  they  are  Cath- 
olics, and  love  and  cherish  their  faith ;  but  of  the  reasonable  grounds  on 
which  that  faith  rests — of  the  solid  motives  that  confirm  it — of  the  har- 
mony and  symmetry  of  its  parts,  they  have  but  scantiest  knowledge.  In 
the  next  place,  they  have  had  little  or  no  training  of  mind,  their  under- 
standing is  not  robust  enough  to  deal  with  solid  matter,  nor  their  judg- 
ment disciplined  to  separate  the  true  from  the  false.  Again,  they  are 
incapable  of  serious  mental  exertion,  and  averse  from  all  that  imposes  the 
labor  of  thought.  They  are  mere  passive  recipients  of  what  they  read, 
surrendering  their  minds  to  the  action  of  the  thoughts  of  others,  without 
ever  challenging  the  claims  which  those  others  have  upon  them  for  the 
allegiance  they  are  so  slavishly  ready  to  yield.  Add  to  this  that  the 
human  mind,  under  any  circumstances,  is  more  tenacious  of  an  objection 
than  of  the  reply ;  more  sensitive  to  a  difficulty  than  to  the  solution ; 
and  that,  owing  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  this  country,  the  current 
literature  is  a  very  hot-bed  of  difficulties  and  objections  against  the  Cath- 
olic faith.  Every  quarter,  every  month,  every  fortnight,  every  week 
brings  out  a  crop  of  reviews  and  magazines  which  supply  millions  with 
matter  for  reading,  and  in  these  periodicals  you  will  find  the  Church  per- 
petually calumniated,  her  doctrines  and  her  history  falsified,  her  modera- 
tion qualified  as  irreconcilable  antagonism  to  all  that  modern  progress 
has  won  for  humanity,  her  claim  to  control  thought  and  science  misrepre- 
sented and  derided.  You  will  find  religious  indifferentism  praised  to  the 
skies,  and  the  dogmatic  principle  condemned  as  tyranny.  And  whoever 
makes  a  careful  examination  will  find  underlying  all  this,  and  working 
up  through  it,  an  erroneous  philosophy  which,  by  its  false  doctrine  of 
causes,  saps  the  demonstration  of  that  central  truth,  the  existence  of 
God. 

Under  conditions  such  as  we  have  described,  the  results  of  indiscrimi- 
nate reading  cannot  be  other  than  pernicious.  The  weak  must  yield  to  the 
strong.  Generally  speaking,  the  effect  of  the  bad  impressions,  reiterated 
again  and  again,  upon  the  mind  of  a  Catholic  who  habitually  reads,  with- 
out restraint  or  antidote,  what  is  called  the  literature  of  the  day,  will  be 
to  bring  about  a  divorce  between  his  faith  and  his  reason.  He  will  cling 
to  his  faith,  but  his  adherence  to  it  will  be  the  work  more  of  sentiment 
or  of  habit  than  of  conviction.  And  when  the  fortunes  of  his  life  place 
him  in  occasions  of  temptation,  when  the  wild  strength  of  the  passions 
finds  no  check  upon  them  save  that  of  a  creed  which  is  but  half  believed 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  293 

in,  it  requires  little  knowledge  of  man's  heart  to  foretell  the  melancholy 
result. 

But  whatever  we  may  suppose  to  be  the  probable  issue  of  the  battle, 
no  one  has  the  right  to  tempt  the  dangers  that  attend  the  combat.  Faith, 
no  doubt,  is  a  gift  of  God ;  but  God  exacts  from  us  for  its  preservation  a 
faithful  correspondence  on  our  part.  Who  can  tell  how  far  he  may  go 
without  endangering  that  precious  gift  ?  Woe  to  us  if  by  rash  curiosity 
to  know  what  may  be  urged  against  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  or  by 
imprudent  dallying  with  difficulties  which  we  are  not  prepared  to  meet, 
we  imperil  our  secure  possession  of  that  priceless  blessing  which  ought  to 
be  dearer  to  us  than  life. 

Now,  from  what  we  have  said,  it  follows  that  indiscriminate  reading  of 
the  books  which  go  to  make  up  the  literature  of  the  day,  will,  if  practiced 
as  a  habit,  infallibly  lead  to  such  danger  in  a  greater  or  less  degree. 

We  are  quite  prepared,  however,  to  find  that  not  all  will  agree  with  us 
on  this  point.  It  will  be  said  that  in  this  age  of  ours  a  person  of  intelli- 
gence ought  to  be  familiar  with  the  arguments  adduced  on  both  sides  of 
every  important  question.  If  not,  he  will  speedily  be  left  behind  by  the 
progress  of  the  times,  and  be  unable  to  keep  pace  with  his  fellow-men, 
who  read  everything. 

But,  we  ask,  do  you  really  and  conscientiously  carry  out  your  golden 
rule  of  studying  the  arguments  on  both  sides  of  the  question?  In  virtue 
of  your  rule,  you  have  read,  let  us  suppose,  Renan's  "  Life  of  Christ,"  or 
Barlow's  "  Eternal  Punishment,"  in  order  to  know  what  is  urged  against 
Catholic  doctrine  on  subjects  of  such  importance.  But  did  you  read 
what  the  learned  have  written  on  the- other  side?  Did  you  read,  for  ex- 
ample, the  late  revered  Primate  Dixon's  "  Introduction  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures,"  where  the  authenticity  and  veracity  of  the  Bible  is  proved 
beyond  doubt,  and  the  ground  thus  cut  away  from  beneath  the  feet  of 
those  unbelieving  writers  ?  Or,  perhaps,  you  habitually  read  some  able 
Protestant  periodical  which  deals  in  controversy,  or  occupies  itself  with 
comments  on  the  struggle  going  on  at  home  and  abroad  between  the 
Church  and  her  enemies.  But  do  you  also  read  the  Catholic  side  of  each 
of  the  questions  under  discussion  ?  Do  you  make  it  your  business  to 
study  attentively  all  the  arguments  which  Catholic  theologians  have 
brought  to  the  defense  of  the  truth?  If  you  do  (and,  as  a  Catholic,  you 
will  naturally  begin  with  Catholic  works)  you  will  have  little  time  and 
less  inclination  to  read  the  opposite  errors.  For,  besides  that,  the  grace 
of  faith  will  fill  you  with  joyful  confidence  in  the  truth  you  possess,  you 
will  find  that  Catholic  writers  are  in  the  habit  of  giving  full  answers  to 
all  objections.  Besides,  in  such  cases,  even  the  material  time  for  such 
studies  would  be  wanting  to  you.     We  fear  much,  however,  that  this  de- 


294  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

sire  to  know  both  sides  of  the  question  in  practice  becomes  little  else 
than  an  excuse  for  reading  remarkable  works  written  to  advocate  what  is 
false.  And  even  if  you  were  willing  to  carry  out  conscientiously  this  rule 
of  reading  books  on  both  sides  the  danger  attending  it  would  forbid  its 
use,  save  under  exceptional  circumstances.  To  be  forever  receiving  im- 
pressions unfavorable  to  the  Church  ;  to  be  constantly  reading  false  state- 
ments of  fact  concerning  her  doctrines  and  her  acts ;  to  witness  the  in- 
cessant sneers  and  derision  with  which  her  holiest  things  are  received  ;  to 
bring  one's  self  to  listen  to  daily  charges  against  her  as  being  in  opposition 
to  all  that  is  free  and  generous  in  the  modern  world,  and  yet  not  to  bear 
away  any  injury,  is  altogether  morally  impossible.  Gutta  cavat  lapidem. 
It  is  vain  to  quote  your  past  experience ;  how  the  freshness  of  your  faith 
has  never  faded  ;  and  how  whilst,  as  you  admit,  thousands  fell  around  you 
on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  the  evil  came  not  near  unto  you.  The 
soul  is  not  always  conscious  of  the  wounds  she  receives  in  this  struggle ; 
it  is  only  when  trial  and  temptation  come  on,  and  when  she  has  to  exert 
her  best  strength  to  repel  them,  that  she  finds  to  her  cost  how,  like  Sam- 
son, she  has  been  robbed  of  her  vigor  while  she  slept. 

Thus  far  we  have  spoken  only  of  dangers  to  faith  ;  but  there  is  another 
and  universal  danger  to  be  feared  from  indiscriminate  reading :  we  mean 
dangers  to  good  morals.  There  are  books  which,  with  shameless  audacity, 
describe  in  plain  language  the  most  infamous  scenes  of  vice ;  there  are 
others  which,  with  greater  refinement,  but  not  less  malice,  paint  them 
half  disguised  in  the  most  attractive  colors.  But,  in  either  case,  their 
universal  theme  is  the  exaltation  of  the  worst  passions  of  the  heart  of 
man  at  the  expense  of  virtue  and  modesty  and  Christian  self-denial. 
There  can  surely  be  no  doubt  but  that  literature  such  as  this  should  be 
abhorred  by  every  one.  We  cannot  neglect,  however,  to  say  one  word 
concerning  that  passion  for  works  of  fiction,  even  though  not  in  them- 
selves objectionable,  which  has  seized  upon  the  world,  and  which  hcis 
struck  roots  far  and  wide  among  the  young.  It  must  not  be  thought  that 
we  condemn  works  of  imagination  as  such.  The  mind  has  its  flower- 
garden  as  well  as  its  corn-fields  to  be  cultivated,  and  the  best  and  holiest 
have  not  been  indifferent  to  the  charms  of  literature.  What  we  condemn 
is  the  habit  of  giving  one's  self  up  to  the  reading, of  books  of  this  class 
exclusively,  or  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  more  serious  studies.  Such  a 
habit  exercises  the  worst  effects  on  the  heart  and  upon  the  mind.  The 
constant  perusal  of  works  of  fiction  unduly  develops  the  imagination  at 
the  expense  of  the  reasoning  powers,  thus  disturbing  that  order  of  the 
faculties  which  nature  has  established.  Besides,  it  extinguishes  all  taste 
for  serious  studies,  especially  for  the  study  of  history,  and  where  laborious 
habits  of  patient  and  steady  work  are  thus  neglected,  the  mind  loses  its 


BISHOP  CON  ROY.  296 

vigor,  and  the  whole  character,  dwarfed  by  the  want  of  healthy  exercise, 
becomes  puerile  and  feeble.  The  same  disastrous  effects,  though  in  a 
minor  degree,  are  the  result  of  newspaper  reading,  when  carried  to  the 
excess  for  which  our  age  is  so  remarkable.  How  many  are  there,  both 
young  and  old,  whose  reading  alternates  between  novels  and  newspapers, 
newspapers  and  novels!  And  what  can  be  expected  from  minds  fed  upon 
such  garbage!  The  best  faculties  of  the  understanding — judgment,  at- 
tention, memory,  comprehension — become  so  depressed  and  weakened  by 
this  desultory  reading  of  trifles  that  they  are  no  longer  able  to  brace 
themselves  to  any  high  effort  worthy  of  the  rational  soul  of  man. 

From  what  we  have  said,  it  is  evidently  the  duty  of  all  to  exercise 
great  prudence  in  the  choice  of  books.  Two  practical  rules  of  great  im- 
portance may  be  laid  down  to  guide  us  in  this  matter.  First,  the  neces- 
sary should  go  before  the  useful,  the  useful  before  the  amusing.  Second, 
we  should  deny  ourselves  all  such  books  as  are  noxious  or  dangerous,  and 
we  should  exercise  great  restraint  on  ourselves  with  regard  to  such  as, 
though  indifferent  in  themselves,  are  nevertheless  easily  abused.  We 
should  have  moral  strength  enough  to  resist  the  tide  of  public  opinion 
when  it  would  draw  us  to  read  some  new  book  remarkable  for  its  novel 
theories  against  faith  or  sound  philosophy,  or  famous  for  the  enchanting 
pictures  it  gives  of  a  life  forbidden  to  Christian  souls.  Nor  should  we 
fail  to  express,  in  presence  of  others,  our  feelings  on  such  a  subject.  One 
quiet  display  of  contempt  against  the  idol  of  the  perverse  fashion  of  the 
day  may  be  the  means  of  freeing  others,  especially  the  young,  from  a 
thraldom  as  dangerous  as  it  is  unreasonable. 


REVEREND   ARTHUR   RYAN. 


The  following  Sermons  are  selections  from  a  ten-years'  series  delivered 
by  Reverend  Arthur  Ryan,  President  of  St.  Patrick's  College,  Thurles, 
Ireland. 


(297) 


©ttje  StU^  pi0VJC  fov  ^jeaujcix. 


HEAVEN. 

"  Our  conversation  is  in  Heaven."— Phil.  iii.  20.  z 

H ATEVER,  brethren,  may  be  the  precise  meaning  of  the  word 
"  conversation  "  in  this  text,  it  is  quite  clear  that  St.  Paul 
would  have  us  think  and  speak  of  Heaven,  or  have,  as  he  says 
elsewhere,  a  relish  for  "  the  things  that  are  above."  Now,  we 
cannot  think,  and  should  not  speak,  of  things  that  we  do  not  know  some- 
thing about ;  nor  can  we  have  any  relish  or  desire  for  the  things  above, 
unless  we  have  some  notion,  and  indeed  some  practical  realization,  of 
them.  For,  according  to  the  old  maxim,  there  can  be  no  desire  without 
some  previous  knowledge  of  the  thing  desired.  What,  then,  do  we  know 
of  Heaven — the  object  of  our  hope — in  which,  as  St.  Paul  tells  us,  is  our 
conversation  ? 

How  little  we  know  will  be  the  answer  readiest  to  most.  The  Prophet 
Isaias,  quoted  and  amplified  by  St.  Paul,  has  told  us,  in  words  familiar  to 
us  all,  that  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  in- 
to the  heart  of  man,  what  things  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love 
Him."  The  Apostle,  however,  qualifies  the  saying  of  the  Prophet,  at 
least  in  so  far  as  it  applies  to  the  knowledge  of  Christians ;  for  he  adds  in 
the  very  next  verse,  "  but  to  us  God  hath  revealed  them  by  His  Spirit." 
The  nature  and  extent  of  the  revelation  by  creatures  we  may  learn 
from  that  wonderful  passage  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  in  which  St. 
Paul  answered  the  Agnostics  of  his  day,  and  in  which  the  Fathers  of  the 
Vatican  Council  found  the  refutation  and  condemnation  of  a  later  and 
deeper  unbelief:  "  The  invisible  things  of  God,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made ; 
His  eternal  power,  also,  and  divinity."  That  is  to  say,  by  seeing  aright 
the  created  and  visible  things  around  us  in  this  world,  we  can  come  to  a 
knowledge,  and  to  a  clear  knowledge,  of  the  invisible  things  of  Heaven, 
and  even  of  their  Divine  Creator  Himself.  True,  elsewhere  the  same 
Apostle,  comparing  this  our  earthly  knowledge  of  God  and  Heaven  with 
the  vision  enjoyed  by  the  blessed,  says :  "  We  see  now  through  a  glass,  in 
a  dark  manner:  but  then  face  to  face:  now  I  know  in  part;  but  then  I 
shall  know  even  as  I  am  known."     These  words,  however,  only  more  fully 

(299) 


300  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

explain  the  meaning  of  my  previous  quotations  from  St.  Paul ;  for  they 
at  once  tell  us  the  inadequacy,  and  yet  the  practical  truth  of  this  vision 
of  God  in  Nature.  Observe,  brethren,  we  see,  though  as  yet  but  dimly; 
we  know,  though  as  yet  but  in  part.  Our  sight  and  knowledge  are  clear ^ 
for  practical  purposes  here :  they  are,  however,  dim  and  imperfect  when 
compared  with  the  better  things  to  come. 

I  find  in  the  writings  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aquin  a  brief  explanation  of 
these  words  of  St.  Paul,  which  will,  I  think,  greatly  help  us.  "  The  whole 
creation,"  he  says,  "  is  for  us  a  sort  of  mirror ;  because  from  the  order,  and 
goodness,  and  greatness  which  are  caused  by  God  in  creatures  we  come  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  Divine  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  excellence."  The 
world  we  see  is,  according  to  St.  Thomas,  who  but  explains  the  figure  of 
St.  Paul,  a  kind  of  mirror  or  looking-glass  :  by  looking  in  we  can  see,  as 
it  were,  the  reflection  of  God's  face — His  Divine  character  outlined  there. 
And  since  He  is  the  joy  of  the  saints,  and  the  contemplation  of  His  face  the 
everlasting  reward  we  hope  for,  we  have,  in  this  reflected  vision  of  God, 
a  true  image  (though  only  an  image)  of  Heaven.  Hugh  of  St.  Victor 
further  tells  us  (and  his  words  are  very  much  to  our  purpose)  that  "  as  in 
the  present  life  every  creature  is,  as  it  were,  a  mirror  in  which  God  is 
seen  reflected,  so  in  the  life  to  come  God  Himself  will  be  the  mirror  of 
all  creatures,  in  which  they  will  all  be  seen  more  truly  than  they  are  seen 
in  themselves."  The  God  of  Heaven,  then,  and  our  happy  home  with 
Him,  we  may  now  see  mirrored  on  earth — as  far  as  sin-blurred  earth  can 
hold  His  Divine  reflection  :  and  in  Heaven  we  shall  see — oh,  God  grant 
we  may  all  be  there  to  see ! — the  things  of  earth  in  their  perfection  and 
exemplars  in  Him,  their  Maker,  and  therefore,  as  our  holy  writer  says, 
more  truly  than  we  can  see  them  in  themselves.  Surely  this  reflection 
of  Heaven  in  earth,  and  of  earth  in  Heaven,  should  bring  the  thought  of 
our  future  home  very  close  tc^  us,  and  easily  within  the  reach  of  even  the 
simplest.  May  God  anoint  our  eyes  with  eye-salve,  that  we  may  see 
this  glory  from  above  resting  on  this  valley  of  tears,  and  on  the  bosom 
of  its  troubled  waters  the  image  of  the  tranquil  sky. 

This,  then,  is  the  teaching  of  St.  Paul — no  mere  poetic  fancy,  remem- 
ber, though  it  is  poetic — that  all  the  glory  of  earth,  all  that  wins  us  by  its 
loveliness,  all  that  fills  the  eye  with  the  grace  of  form  and  color,  the 
ear  with  melody,  the  heart  with  longing,  all  is,  even  though  we  little  heed 
its  import,  the  beauty  of  God  and  of  His  Heaven  reflected  before  our 
eyes  ;  the  melodies  of  earth  are  echoes,  faint,  but  still  fascinating,  of  the 
sweet  and  wondrous  voice  of  God,  and  of  the  canticles  before  His  throne : 
the  stirring  of  human  hearts  is  the  first  thrill — dear  Lord,  may  we  never 
forget  it ! — of  the  love  which  will  find  its  rapturous  consummation  in  the 
blissful  union  of  Heaven.     Ah,  brethren,  I  hear  you  say,  how  sin  has 


FATHER  RYAN.  301 

spoiled  all  this !  How  it  has  blurred  the  mirror,  and  so  deflled  its  sur- 
face, that  before  we  can  see  the  face  of  God  reflected  there  we  must 
strive  hard  to  wipe  away  what  is  impure !  Truly,  only  the  clean  of  heart 
can  see  God  even  as  He  is  reflected  here ;  the  holiest  have  had  the  most 
perfect  vision  on  earth,  as  they  have  it  also  in  Heaven  :  the  sinner,  alas ! 
sees  the  very  beauty  of  God  distorted  into  foul  images  of  sin.  Time 
was  when  the  reflection  was  undimmed.  Earth  was  then  a  Paradise,  and 
God,  we  read,  "  walked  "  therein,  so  perfectly  was  the  heavenly  beauty 
mirrored  in  that  Eden  of  delight.  But  all  was  disordered,  distorted, 
ruined,  in  the  evil  hour  of  man's  fall,  and  the  mirror-earth,  though  it 
still  shows  the  image  of  its  Maker,  shows  it  "  darkly,"  so  that  it  is,  as 
the  "enigma"  of  St,  Paul  means,  a  matter  of  guesswork  to  trace  the 
Divine  features  amid  the  confusion  and  obscuration  of  sin.  The  fact 
remains,  however,  that  from  this  visible  creation,  deranged  though  it  is, 
we  can  see  enough  of  order  and  beauty  to  help  us  to  a  knowledge  of  the 
invisible  Heaven  above,  to"  a  knowledge  clear  enough  to  eye  and  intellect 
to  be  a  working  view,  a  practical  notion,  one  fit  to  inform  our  expecta- 
tion, and  to  disenchant  us,  even  while  it  increases  our  enchantment,  with 
our  place  of  exile  here.  Let  us  scan  the  frame  of  things  around  us,  let 
us  look  into  this  mirror  of  Heaven  on  earth,  that  we  may  understand,  as 
St.  Paul  would  have  us,  the  meaning  of  this  mysterious  beauty  that  so 
strangely  moves  us,  and  see,  guessingly  it  may  be,  and  in  part,  but  still 
with  a  clear  gain  of  practical  hope  and  trust,  the  things  God  has  pre- 
pared for  them  that  love  Him. 

Have  you  never,  dear  brethren,  thoughtlessly  it  may  have  been,  or 
with  the  feeling  that  you  were  excusable  in  your  exaggeration,  spoken 
of  some  spot  of  earth,  some  summer  day,  some  spell  of  auspicious 
weather  as  ''heavenly"  1  If  so,  I  tell  you  now  in  this  holy  place  that  you 
were  right  in  the  word  you  used,  and  happy  indeed  if  it  so  chanced. that 
you  realized  the  meaning  of  what  you  said.  Earth  is  heavenly  at  times. 
In  favored  spots,  at  rare  intervals,  and  for  all  too  brief  a  space,  the  reflex 
of  Heaven  seems,  as  far  as  we  can  bear  it,  absolutely  perfect,  leaving  us 
nothing  wanting  even  to  our  highest  and  most  refined  desires.  For 
a  while  the  eye  is  filled  with  seeing,  and  the  ear  with  hearing ;  we 
put  from  us  the  sad  thought  that  it  cannot  last.  So  perfect  is  the  image 
in  the  mirror,  that  it  stands  well  enough  for  the  reality ;  and  this  very 
briefness  of  the  vision  is  a  proof  that  it  is  but  a  visitor  on  earth  :  its  bid- 
ing place  is  elsewhere. 

You  have  found  yourself,  perchance,  upon  a  summer  day,  within  the 
sanctuary  of  some  sequestered  valley ;  the  tempered  sunshine  rests  on 
all ;  on  the  rain-freshened  verdure  of  the  tree  above  you,  and  of  the  grass 
beneath   your  feet ;  on  the   smiling  hills  that  fold  you  on  every  side  ; 


302  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

on  the  sleeping  waters  of  the  lake  beneath.  The  air  is  sweet  with 
the  scent  of  flowers,  and  cooled  by  the  plashing  of  the  shaded 
stream ;  sounds  of  song  are  in  the  sky  above,  and  in  the  woods  and 
thickets  around.  Though,  indeed,  you  scarcely  note  each  several 
charm ;  for  it  is  the  unspeakable  harmony  of  all,  and  its  perfect  unison 
with  the  chords  of  your  heart  within,  that  you  are  sensible  of  as  you 
pant  out,  in  a  very  rapture  of  thanksgiving,  My  God,  this  is  heavenly  ! 
Yes,  it  is  ;  and  thank  Him  for  such  a  glimpse  into  the  mirror,  when  the 
very  smoothness  of  unfallen  nature  is  upon  it,  when  the  peace  of  Paradise 
seems  restored,  and  the  unclouded  smile  of  its  not  yet  outraged  God 
seems  reflected  on  an  earth  that  bears  as  yet  no  curse.  Make  the  most 
of  such  hours,  brethren,  for  they  will  quickly  pass :  the  valley  will  be 
storm-swept,  the  skies  darkened,  the  verdure,  the  fragrance,  the  melody 
— all  will  soon  go.  But  that  is  to  remind  you  that  what  you  have  seen 
is  an  image,  and  not  the  reality  ;  it  is  not  to  take  away  the  lesson  that  its 
beauty  has  taught  you,  nor  to  rob  you  of  the  hope  it  has  kindled  in  your 
soul.  For  the  invisible  Heaven  of  God  is  clearly  seen  from  the  created 
world  below,  being  understood  through  its  image  in  creation ;  its  Maker's 
eternal  power  also,  and  Divine  perfections. 

Another  mirror  of  Heaven  may  be  found  in  those  brief  spans  of  re- 
pose vouchsafed  to  man  even  in  this  land  of  labor — short  rest,  it  is  true, 
and  broken,  but  nevertheless  an  instalment  and  a  promise  of  eternal 
rest  to  follow.  The  week  draws  to  its  close :  evening  has  fallen  on  its 
latest  day :  its  six  suns  have  set  on  six  days  of  toil,  and,  at  last,  welcome 
the  day  of  rest !  The  hand  of  the  weary  worker  has  relaxed,  or  holds 
but  a  few  coips  on  which  he  looks  with  pride  as  the  fair  wages  of  his  fair 
week's  work.  Mind  and  body  are  at  ease  ;  there  is  nothing,  he  says,  to 
trouble  or  to  vex  him,  and  he  hails  the  Lord's  Day  as  if  it  were  a  day 
taken  from  the  Calendar  of  Heaven.  And  so  it  is.  For  has  he  not  often 
prayed,  perhaps  without  noticing  the  real  drift  of  what  he  said,  that  God 
would  give  the  dear  ones  gone  from  him,  and  all  the  souls  departed, 
"  eternal  rest  "  ?  "  Give  them,  O  Lord  eternal  rest."  In  the  quiet  waters 
of  earth  the  quiet  of  Heaven  is  mirrored;  and  in  that  workman's 
rest,  and  in  the  rest  of  every  honest  toiler  with  hand  or  brain,  is  an  image 
of  the  blessed  and  eternal  Sabbath,  when  no  man  shall  work,  nor  any 
heart  be  weary,  when  every  hand  that  wrought  for  God  shall  hold  His 
wage  exceeding  great. 

Home,  and  the  manifold  happiness  that  makes  that  name  a  name  of 
sweetness  to  us  all,  is  it  not  another  mirror  of  Heaven,  a  very  Paradise 
on  earth  ?  All  that  endears  it — the  links  with  the  past,  the  promises  for 
the  future,  the  hallowed  joys  that  seem  in  their  unfading  memories  to 
have  a  stability  not  given  to  aught  else  of  earth,  the  way  in  which  its 


FATHER  RYAN.  303 

sorrows  are  forgotten  in  its  gladness — all  make  the  happy  home  below  a 
worthy  image  of  the  happier  home  above.  The  "  many  mansions  "  of 
the  Father's  Kingdom  are  reflected  in  the  tiny  mirrors  of  His  children's 
earthly  homes  ;  and  the  yearning  of  the  exile  for  the  country  of  his 
childhood  is,  were  it  spiritually  r.ecognized,  only  part  of  that  larger  long- 
ing planted  in  the  human  heart  by  God — 

"  Qui  vitam  sine  termino 
Nobis  donet  in  Patria." 

Again,  has  it  never  struck  you  that  if  there  is  a  picture  of  Heaven  on 
earth  it  is  a  Catholic  church  during  the  progress  of  some  splendid  cere- 
monial ?  And  there  is  more  than  the  image  here — there  is  the  Reality — 
the  Real  Presence  of  Him  who  is  the  joy  of  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem 
and  the  lamp  thereof.  The  Sacramental  Veil  is  hanging  before  the  face 
of  Jesus,  else  should  we  enjoy  the  very  happiness  of  the  angels  of  God 
who,  unseen  by  us,  are  ministering  around  that  altar  ;  who,  unheard  by 
us,  are  filling  in  the  meagre  harmonies  of  choir  and  organ  with  the  rich 
canticles  of  Heaven.  Still,  in  what  we  see  and  hear  there  is  enough  to 
rejoice  us  with  the  thoughts  of  the  Courts  above,  and  of  those  that 
worship  there.  In  the  venerable  ministers  we  see  the  ancients  whom 
St.  John  saw  prostrate  before  the  throne:  in  the  white-robed  ranks 
of  the  sanctuary,  the  multitude  that  no  man  can  number,  who  worship 
before  the  Lamb :  in  the  smoke  of  the  incense,  the  prayers  of  the  saints 
ascending  up  before  God  from  the  hand  of  the  Angel :  in  the  chanting 
of  human  voices,  the  new  canticle  that  no  man  can  utter :  in  the  ritual  of 
the  Church  militant,  the  glory  of  the  Church  triumphant.  Ah,  should 
we  speak  lightly  of  the  solemn  rites  of  the  Sanctuary,  or  murmur  at 
their  length,  if  we  realized  the  fact  that  they  are  the  bright  earthly  reflex 
of  the  pageantry  of  Heaven  ? 

One  more  look  into  the  mirror  and  I  have  done.  God  guard  us  as 
we  look  this  time,  for  we  shall  need  His  help  and  the  prayers  of  our 
gentle  Mother  Mary  to  wipe  away  the  foulness  that  has  gathered 
on  the  glass.  I  ask  you  to  look  at  the  love  of  human  hearts  on  earth, 
and  on  its  pure  and  lofty  joy,  as  the  image  of  the  love  and  fruition 
of  God,  and  its  never-ending  bliss.  Love  is  the  very  highest  reward  of 
Heaven.  It  is  the  perversion  of  love  that  is  the  all-pervading  sin  of 
earth  :  it  is  the  absence  of  love  that  is  the  bitterest  torment  of  hell.  The 
most  terrible  fall  is  that  from  the  loftiest  station  ;  the  foulest  corruption 
is  that  of  the  fairest ;  the  rankest  decay  that  of  the  sweetest  flowers. 
And  so,  once  this  peerless  gift  of  Heaven  is  tainted,  the  taste  thereof 
is  mortal :  its  very  sweetness  is  death.  Still,  brethren,  is  love  the  best 
gift  that  man  has  to  offer  to  God  or  man  ;  and  our  surest  way  to  avoid 
the  terrible  sin  of  perverting  it  is  to  recognize  in  it,  as  I  ask  you  now  to 


304  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

do,  the  strongest  link  between  Heaven  and  earth — the  brightest  reflec- 
tion below,  when  free  from  all  that  is  unworthy,  6i  the  pure  happiness 
of  the  angels  and  saints  above.  Indeed,  it  does  not  seem  to  be  a  deni- 
zen of  earth  at  all.  For  true  friendship  is  the  sympathy  of  souls,  and  is, 
therefore,  in  its  nature  spiritual,  passing  the  understanding  of  the  gross- 
minded,  and  being  but  weakened,  and  its  duration  lessened,  when  it  de- 
clines to  lower  levels  and  to  material  joys.  The  human  soul  is  the  most  per- 
fect image  of  God  on  earth,  and  is  recognized  as  such  by  the  love  that, 
without  knowing  why,  seeks  to  rest  in  it,  and  to  win  back  its  God-like 
love.  Find  me  on  earth  any  creature  that  more  perfectly  reflects  my 
Creator  than  the  friend  whom  I  love  and  reverence,  and  I  will  transfer  to 
that  creature  my  heart's  affection.  And,  in  speaking  thus,  the  true  no- 
bility of  human  fidelity  appears.  It  is  in  God  that  there  is  no  change  or 
shadow  of  alteration :  hence  it  is  of  what  is  most  like  Him  in  human 
lovethat  poets  sing  when  they  praise  unchanging  troth  and  unswerving 
hearts.  The  fickle,  roving  affections  of  earth  stand  thus  self-condemned 
beside  the  reflected  image  of  Heavenly  love  and  the  purity  of  its  un- 
fading beauty. 

This  is  the  love  that  the  wise  man  tells  us  is  as  strong  as  death :  this 
is  the  love  that  will  last,  the  only  love  that  can  last,  through  death :  it  is 
in  this  eternal  love  that  we  shall  claim  our  own  beyond  the  grave ;  for  it 
was  God's  image  we  so  dearly  loved  in  them  on  earth,  and  we  shall  know 
its  perfection  better  in  Heaven  when  we  can  compare  it  with  Him  face  to 
face.  And  here  is,  to  my  thinking,  the  answer  to  those  who  distress 
themselves  with  the  thought  that  some  whom  they  have  loved  on  earth 
may,  alas !  be  missing  from  Heaven.  No ;  they  may  not  be  there,  but 
they  will  not  be  missing.  All  that  we  truly  loved  in  them  will  be  there : 
any  lower  love  will  have  been  burned  out  of  our  hearts  ere  we  enter 
Heaven  ourselves.  We  have  no  right  to  love  on  earth  anything  unloved 
by  God.  But  show  me  the  sinner  here  whom  He  does  not  love  far  better 
than  the  dearest  friend  can  love  him.  If  we  love  that  poor  soul  in  God, 
we  shall  find  our  love  again  in  God,  even  though  its  earthly  object  has 
elected  to  remain  forever  an  enemy  of  God,  and  of  all  who  are  His.  For 
remember  the  words  of  Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  that  as  we  see  God  reflected 
in  creatures  here,  we  shall  see  creatures  reflected  in  God  hereafter ;  nor 
shall  we  have  any  room,  in  the  full  and  overflowing  measure  of  that  lov- 
ing vision,  for  anything  unworthy  of  reflection  there.  Sweet  Lord,  keep 
our  hearts  pure,  that  no  love  of  ours  on  earth  may  be  unfit  for  Heaven, 
where  nothing  defiled  can  enter,  but  where  all  that  we  have  well  loved  in 
creatures  we  shall  know  more  truly  and  love  more  dearly  in  Thee ! 

Dear  brethren,  once  more  I  ask  you  to  remember  that  these  are  no 
mere  fancies  of  the  preacher,  but  the  very  substance  of  the  Divine  revela- 


FATHER  RYAN. 


305 


tion  to  St.  Paul,  the  application  to  our  own  lives  of  the  words  of  the 
Apostle  and  of  Doctors  of  the  Church.  If  the  hope  of  Heaven  is  a 
practical  hope,  and  one  to  work  upon,  and  one  to  energize  our  work, 
surely  every  thought  that  will  bring  that  hope  before  our  minds,  that  will 
make  the  substance  of  that  hope  more  vivid,  and  the  realization  of  that 
hope  more  sure,  will  be  a  blessed  thought,  and  one  to  rest  on  for  a  life- 
time. As  I  have  said,  it  will  disenchant  us  with  earth,  even  while  it  adds 
to  its  enchantment.  For  it  will  ever  show  this  mirror-life  to  us  as  in 
itself,  indeed,  a  vain  shadow,  unsubstantial,  transient,  all  unworthy  of 
immortal  love.  But  it  will  also  show  us  in  this  glass  of  life  the  reflex  of 
a  world  that  passeth  not,  the  promise  of  the  great  reality,  the  outlines  of 
the  better  land  ;  and  we  shall  love  creation  with  a  higher  and  a  truer  love 
than  ever,  as  a  friend  loves  the  picture  of  his  friend ;  we  shall  know  its 
beauty,  and  study  its  harmonies,  as  the  reflected  picture  of  our  home  with 
God  in  Heaven,  and  as  echoes  of  celestial  song.  Loving  thus  what  we 
have,  we  shall  long  for  more ;  contemplating  the  dim  vision,  we  shall 
yearn  to  see  face  to  face ;  delighting  our  eyes  with  the  radiance  of  earth, 
our  ears  with  its  music,  our  hearts  with  its  love,  we  shall  not  rest  in  these, 
but  seek  to  be  fully  satisfied  only  when  His  glory  shall  appear ;  confess- 
ing, even  amid  the  brightest,  and  sweetest,  and  dearest  of  earth,  that 
"  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man,  what  things  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  Him." 


GOOD  AND   EVIL. 

"  Son,  remember  that  thou  didst  receive  good  things  in  thy  lifetime,  and  likewise 
Lazarus  evil  things :  but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." — Luke 
xvi.  25. 

jHE  words  of  my  text,  brethren,  point  to  a  fact  which  has  at  all 
times  been  a  trial  and  a  perplexity  to  man.  For  Jesus,  in  the 
parable  of  .the  Rich  Man,  tells  us  how  Abraham,  speaking  to 
that  lost  soul,  says :  "  Son,  remember  that  thou  didst  receive 
good  things  in  thy  lifetime,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things."  Now,  this 
is  our  perplexing  trial — the  evil  livers  do,  before  our  eyes,  receive  the  good 
things  of  life — the  wealth,  and  comfort,  and  ease  of  mind  and  body ;  and 
likewise  the  good  and  patient  servants  of  God  receive  the  evil  things  of 
life — poverty,  sickness,  distress.  Dives  still  lives  amongst  us,  selfish  and 
hard-handed  as  of  old,  and  nevertheless  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen, 
feasting  sumptuously  every  day,  and  at  the  end  borne  in  splendor  to  the 
grave ;  while  Lazarus  is  still  the  outcast,  despite  his  long-suffering  and 
resignation  to  his  lot ;  still  refused  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the  rich 
man's  table ;  still  a  beggar  in  life,  and  laid,  at  the  end,  in  a  pauper's 
grave.  Or  rather,  as  if  to  perplex  us  more,  there  is  no  such  exact  division 
of  evil  to  the  good,  and  good  to  the  evil — this  might  be  its  own  explana- 
tion ;  but  there  is  what  seems  an  absolute  want  of  all  order  or  rule  in  the 
division  of  goods  and  ills ;  the  good  livers  being  here  in  good  and  there 
in  evil  plight,  the  evil  doers  being  now  rewarded  and  now  punished.  It 
is  a  confusion  that  we  seek  in  vain  to  arrange  to  our  satisfaction.  Our 
temptation  is  to  give  up  all  idea  of  there  being  a  just  Providence  at  all, 
and  to  set  down  this  medley  to  the  haphazard  action  of  fate,  or  **  luck," 
as  we  call  it.  And  all  the  stronger  does  this  temptation  grow  when  in 
our  own  lives  we  sde  that  the  same  confusion  exists — our  best  and  holiest 
years  being  often  most  full  of  trials,  and  our  unfaithful  and  ungenerous, 
and  even  sinful  years  being,  perhaps,  our  happiest  and  most  prosperous. 
I  appeal  to  you,  dear  friends,  has  not  this  been  your  own  sore  trial  ? 
Has  not  the  Tempter  shown  you,  at  times,  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
and  the  lives  of  men,  and  the  stretch  of.  your  own  years,  and  said  :  "  See 
this  confusion  of  goods  and  ills ;  see  these  wicked  lifted  up,  these  holy 
(306) 


FATHER  RYAN.  307 

•ones  cast  down ;  see  your  own  sinfulness  prospering  and  your  justice 
come  to  nought ;  fall  down  and  adore  Fortune,  Fate,  Luck,  or  whatever 
you  choose  to  call  me,  but  cease  to  believe  in  a  Providence  that  is 
nowhere  evident  on  earth,  or  in  a  God  that  gives  His  good  gifts  and  His 
punishments  without  justice,  heedless  of  merit  or  demerit"?  I  say,  has 
not  the  Tempter  sometimes  whispered  to  you  thus  his  horrible  interpre- 
tation of  the  difficulty?  and  ought  you  not  to  listen  gladly  now  to  God's 
interpretation,  to  the  answer  His  Holy  Spirit  has  given  to  this  perplexing 
question  ?  Let  us  then,  for  a  few  moments,  strive  to  understand  the 
answer  of  the  Scripture,  that  we  may  strengthen  our  faith  against  all 
such  attacks,  and  out  of  the  very  reasons  of  the  Enemy  make  firm  our 
loving  trust  in  the  Providence  of  God. 

Dear  brethren,  you  may  have  remarked  that  there  are  many  things  in 
the  material  world  around  us  that  appear  to  be  in  confusion  and  without 
any  order  or  arrangement  from  some  points  of  view,  while  from  other 
positions  they  are  seen  to  be  symmetrical  and  even  beautiful.  You  may 
have  been  in  a  wood,  perhaps,  where,  when  you  are  walking  in  one  direc- 
tion, the  trees  are  irregular,  and  planted,  it  would  seem,  without  any 
reference  to  one  another ;  but  turn  right  or  left  and  you  will  see  that  they 
stand  in  absolutely  perfect  lines,  with  long  straight  alleys  between  them, 
down  which  the  eye  ranges  with  delight.  Or  look  at  that  very  stained 
glass  window  there.  Seen  from  outside,  wiiat  could  be  more  con- 
fused, and  even  unsightly,  than  the  lines  upon  the  glass?  But  seen  from 
this  point  all  is  harmonious  in  form  and  color.  So  is  it  with  the  con- 
fusion we  have  been  wondering  at  in  the  moral  world — the  confusion  in 
the  distribution  of  good  and  evil.  Looked  at  from  man's  standpoint, 
there  seems  no  unravelling  its  perplexities,  it  shows  no  sign  of  care  or 
Providence ;  but  seen  at  the  point  God  sees  it  from — seen  from  the  point 
where  His  Holy  Spirit,  not  the  Tempter,  shows  it  to  us,  the  confusion 
and  perplexity  vanish,  and  all  is  order  and  law,  and  beauty  and  love. 
That  point,  brethren,  where  out  of  seeming  chance  and  injustice  Provi- 
dence and  justice  appear,  is  the  Day  of  Judgment,  when  God  will  justify 
His  ways  to  man.  Then  the  good  shall  be  finally  separated  from  the 
evil,  and  the  sheep  from  the  goats ;  then  all  the  good  shall  be  rewarded 
with  good  unmixed  with  ill,  and  the  wicked  punished  with  ill  unmixed 
with  good ;  and  the  confusion  and  perplexity  of  this  world's  fates  and 
fortunes  shall  then  be  resolved  finally  and  simply  into  Heaven  and  Hell. 
This  is  what  the  Wise  Man  means  when  he  writes :  "  God  will  judge  the 
wicked  man  and  the  just  man :  then  will  be  the  time  for  everything." 
As  much  as  to  say,  this  is  not  the  time  to  look  at  things,  nor  this  the 
place.  Now,  and  here,  everything  looks  disordered ;  but  wait  till  the 
Judgment-day,  and  then  will  be  the  time  to  see  things  aright,  as  God 


308  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

sees  them,  and  as  He  wishes  us  to  see  them  forever;  '^  tlien,'  but  not  till 
then,  "will  be  the  time  for  everything." 

It  is,  dear  brethren,  a  thought  familiar  to  you  that  this  life  is  but  a 
time  of  passage,  of  travelling  on,  unrestingly,  toward  a  place  of  final  bid- 
ing. We  read  of  those  who  in  the  rigors  of  northern  latitudes  are 
tempted  to  rest  on  their  way  through  the  snow  and  frost,  although  they 
know  that  to  rest  thus  is  certain  death.  And  we  feel,  too,  the  terrible 
strength  of  our  temptation  in  the  journey  of  life  to  sit  down  and  take  our 
ease  here,  even  at  the  peril  of  our  eternal  salvation.  Well,  now,  we  see 
that  God  has  Himself  made  it  hard  for  us  so  to  rest.  Everything  around  us 
is  most  unlike  what  we  should  expect  in  a  place  of  rest.  There  is  con- 
fusion and  disorder,  and  pain  and  very  great  uncertainty.  There  is  on 
earth  no  place  where  the  soul  can  say  to  itself.  Here  take  thy  rest.  For 
the  sunny  spots,  like  the  shifting  gleams  on  the  mountain-side,  move 
away  just  as  \Ve  have  reached  them ;  and  even  if  we  enjoy  their  bright- 
ness and  warmth  for  a  moment,  we  have  the  sad  certainty  that  the 
shadow  of  the  cloud  must  quickly  be  upon  us.  I  say  God  has,  in  allowing 
this  confused  and  ever-varying  distribution  of  the  lights  and  shadows  of 
life,  almost  obliged  us  to  look  from  this  to  some  other  state  where  our 
longing  for  order  and  rest  shall  be  satisfied.  He  has  refused  us  a  resting- 
place,  that  He  may  almost  force  us  to  push  on  to  the  "lasting  city," 
where  we  shall  rest  in  peace,  or,  as  the  Psalmist  puts  it,  "  where  the  saints 
shall  be  joyful  in  their  beds."  See,  brethren,  how  the  Providence  of  God 
appears  exactly  where  we  least  expected  to  see  it  manifest — in  that  very 
confusion  and  disorder  of  good  and  evil  which  was  our  trial,  and  which 
tempted  us  to  disbelieve  in  any  Divine  government  at  all.  We  see,  now, 
the  hand  of  God  in  this  economy  of  confusion,  and  recognize  that  the 
true  unriddling  of  the  universe  is  in  the  fact  that  God's  day  is  yet  to 
come,  and  that  we  must  wait  and  watch  for  its  coming.  For  then,  and 
not  till  then,  "  His  fan  shall  be  in  His  hand,  and  He  will  thoroughly 
cleanse  His  floor,  and  gather  His  wheat  into  the  barn,  but  the  chaff  He 
will  burn  with  unquenchable  fire."  Then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  He 
separate  both  the  just  from  the  unjust,  and  the  good  things  of  His 
bounty  from  the  evil  things  of  His  justice;  *and  He  shall  then  say  to 
those  on  His  right  hand :  Come,  ye  blessed,  to  the  kingdom  of  joy 
unmixed  with  sorrow ;  and  to  those  upon  His  left :  Depart,  ye  accursed, 
to  the  place  of  unmitigated  pain. 

Dear  brethren,  I  have  said  that  we  are  forced,  in  a  way,  to  look  for 
some  such  final  order  and  discrimination.  What  we  see  around  us  obliges 
us  to  this.  Do  we  not  see  that  this  universe,  amid  apparent  confusion,  is, 
even  in  its  minutest  action,  governed  by  law  and  beautified  by  order  ? 
Study  it,  in  any  of  its  parts,  and  you  at  once  come  to  law  ;  know  it,  and 


FATHER  RYAN.  309 

you  at  once  come  to  love  it,  and  this  despite  much  that  seems  at  first 
disordered  and  unlovely.  Look  up  to  the  skies  at  night,  and  remember 
that  the  confusion  of  those  myriad  stars  unravels  itself  to  the  astronomer, 
and  resolves  itself  into  most  perfect  law.  Look  at  the  tiniest  flower  of 
the  field.  You  have,  perhaps,  seen  it  a  thousand  times ;  but  now  take  it 
up,  examine  its  little  leaves,  its  exquisite  delicacy  of  form  and  color,  and 
say  do  you  not  now  love  a  beauty  that  you  thought  commonplace  before  ? 
Listen  to  that  lark  singing  up  there  in  the  sky.  You  have  been  hearing 
that  song,  perhaps,  for  hours ;  but  listen  to  it  now.  Do  you  find  no  joy, 
unfelt  before,  in  that  outpouring  melody — some  meaning  lying  beneath 
what  at  first  seemed  meaningless  ?  I  say,  brethren,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  go  into  any  part  of  nature  and  not  to  find  law  and  beauty  there  waiting 
for  us.  And  can  it  be  that  man,  God's  most  perfect  work,  is  the  sole 
exception  ?  Can  it  be  that  in  his  lot  alone  there  is  no  revelation  of  its 
law,  but  only  final  confusion  ?  no  unfolding  of  its  beauty,  but  only  utter 
shapelessness  ?  no  interpretation  of  its  meaning,  but  only  a  riddle  to  the 
end  ?  No,  surely  not ;  this  would  be  to  put  man  lower  than  all  creation, 
whereas  he  is  higher.  There  is,  indeed,  no  explanation  of  our  chequered 
lot  given  to  us  here ;  but  let  us  wait — we  shall  know  it  there.  Thus  let 
us  answer  the  Tempter,  and  turn  this  vision  of  confusion  against  him 
who  forces  it  upon  our  sight,  by  making  it  a  vision  of  hope,  a  reminder 
that,  like  the  seeming  medley  of  the  Universe,  the  disorder  of  man's  lot 
will  disappear  before  a  wider  knowledge  and  a  purer  love.  "  I  have  said 
in  my  heart :  God  wiil  judge  the  wicked  man,  and  the  just  man,  and  then 
will  be  the  time  for  everything." 

And,  dear  brethren,  how  foolish  it  is  for  us  to  think  that  we  can,  in 
our  short  space  of  a  few  years,  take  in  the  full  measure  of  God's  designs. 
He  dwells  in  Eternity ;  He  works  in  Eternity ;  His  designs  are  from 
Eternity  to  Eternity ;  and  man,  in  his  moment  of  time,  thinks  he  ought 
to  see  and  understand  all !  Would  even  human  common  sense  brook 
such  folly?  Would  a  legislator  allow  his  law  code  to  be  judged  by  one 
short  clause?  Would  a  painter  allow  his  picture  to  be  condemned  before 
it  was  half  completed  ?  Surely,  then,  it  were  wise  of  us  to  wait  until  we 
know  God's  ordinance  as  a  whole  before  we  presume  to  criticise  it,  and 
until  we  see  the  completion  of  His  design  before  we  pronounce  upon  its , 
proportion  or  its  beauty.  Let  us,  as  St.  Augustine  says,  not  narrow 
God's  judgments  into  the  little  circuit  of  our  experience,  but  rather 
expand  ourselves  into  His  eternity,  where  alone  His  full  justice  and 
beauty  can  be  seen.  And  let  us  be  further  mindful  that  it  is  the  privilege 
of  the  powerful  to  take  their  time.  Precipitation  is  a  sign  of  weakness. 
The  weak  seize  upon  the  day,  the  hour,  the  moment,  which  is  favorable : 
missing  that,  they  lose  their  only  chance  of  success.  And  so,  as  that  precious 


310  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

moment  hurries  by,  they  must  hurry  to  catch  it.  But  to  the  strong  man 
any  moment,  be  it  soon  or  late,  is  propitious.  He  can  therefore  wait,, 
and  bide  his  time  in  perfect  independence.  Far  more  truly,  then,  can  it  be 
said  of  the  Almighty  that  He  need  not  hurry,  that  He  can  afford  to  wait. 
His  day  will  come  when  He  chooses:  we  cannot  hurry  it  by  our  impa- 
tience. And  His  day  will  be  the  day  of  judgment,  the  day  of  justice,  of 
final  reward,  and  of  iinal  punishment. 

We  know,  moreover,  brethren,  that  not  only  are  the  goods  and  ills  of 
life  distributed  in  seemingly  haphazard  confusion  among  the  faithful  and 
the  unfaithful  children  of  men,  but  they  are  also  mixed  in  their  nature  ; 
nothing,  save  sin,  being  absolutely  ill,  and  nothing,  save  the  will  of  God, 
being  absolutely  good.  Sickness,  and  sorrow,  and  death  may  be  converted 
by  patience  and  resignation  from  evils  into  blessings  ;  while  health,  and  life, 
and  prosperity  may,  by  an  ill  use  of  them,  become  very  real  and  very  ter- 
rible evils.  But  in  the  end  the  day  will  come  when  good  things  shall  be 
given  to  men  which  no  ill  use  can  turn  to  evil,  and  woes  which  no  patience 
can  alleviate  or  turn  from  being  utterly  and  eternally  evil.  Of  these  three 
states  the  Psalmist  sings :  **  In  the  hand  of  the  Lord  there  is  a  cup  of 
strong  wine,  full  of  mixture  ;  but  the  dregs  thereof  are  not  emptied  :  all 
the  sinners  of  the  earth  shall  drink."  Here,  in  the  cup  which  God  pours 
out  to  man,  the  Royal  Prophet  shows  us  there  are  three  kinds  of  wine — 
the  pure  and  strong  {merum),  the  mixed  {mixtum),  and  the  dregs  {facx). 
The  pure  wine  is  the  wine  of  gladness  without  sorrow  which  He  will  pour 
out  for  His  Saints  in  Heaven  ;  the  dregs  He  will  give  in  bitterness 
unmixed,  and  all  the  sinners  of  the  earth  shall  drink.  The  mixed — 
wherein  the  wine  of  gladness  and  the  bitter  dregs  of  sorrow  are  mingled 
together---is  the  draught  He  presents  to  all,  saints  and  sinners,  in  this 
life.  Let  us,  then,  when  we  taste  in  its  sweetness  the  bitterness  of  its 
dregs,  remember  that  the  pure  wine  is  yet  to  be  presented  to  us,  if  we 
be  faithful,  and  the  dregs,  if  we  be  unfaithful.  And  let  us  remember,  too, 
that  we  have  no  right  to  expect  unmixed  joy  here ;  that  such  belongs  to 
a  future  day ;  and,  moreover,  that  no  evil  is  given  to  us  here  by  God  but 
He  has  tempered  it  with  good,  and  given  us  the  power  to  taste  that  sweet- 
ness even  in  our  bitterest  affliction. 

Surely,  brethren,  thoughts  such  as  these  should  go  far  toward  removing 
the  temptation  of  the  Evil  One  to  doubt  of  the  Providence  of  God.  Surely, 
from  the  point  to  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  led  us,  we  can  see  an  order  in 
the  disorder  of  life,  and  in  its  confusion  the  evidence  of  a  great  and  eternal 
plan.  And,  O  sinner,  think  not  any  longer  to  find  a  guilty  comfort  in  the 
fact  that  your  fellow-sinners  still  go  free  and  walk  in  pleasant  ways.  Be 
rather  all  the  more  terrified  at  this,  now  that  it  reminds  you  of  the  day  to 
come,  the  day  of  final  separation,  and  of  justice  without  mercy. 


FATHER  RYAN.  311 

Now,  what  is  the  practical  outcome  of  such  thoughts  ?  You  know  we 
must  not  be  mere  philosophers :  we  must  be  practical  Christians.  Phi- 
losophers speculate  and  argue  and  lay  down  maxims  and  establish  theories ; 
but  Christians  seek  to  do,  not  merely  to  think,  what  is  right.  Philoso- 
phers may  hold  wise  opinions,  but  Christians  do  wise  actions.  For  it  is 
not  men's  views  that  will  be  judged,  but  men's  works.  And  so  let  us 
come  to  a  practical  conclusion.  And  the  first  very  practical  outcome  of 
our  contemplation  of  the  Providence  of  God  is  this :  that  we  can  now 
afford  to  despise  everything  that  ends  with  time,  and  that  we  now  value 
only  what  lasts  on  into  eternity.  We  have  now  no  real  hope  or  fear, 
except  for  what  may  save  or  ruin  us  on  the  Judgment-day. 

For  see  how  lightly  we  ought  to  think  of  those  goods  of  earth,  which 
are  of  so  little  value  that  the  wicked  share  them  with  the  just.  Since 
God  gives  them  indifferently  to  His  friends  and  to  His  enemies,  surely 
He  can  lay  little  store  by  them.  How  rightly  indignant,  then,  He  will 
be  if  we  value  them  as  much  as  His  precious  gifts  to  come,  which  are 
reserved  for  the  just  alone ;  if  we  mistake,  as  St.  Augustine  says,  the 
solace  of  the  captives  for  the  joy  of  the  children.  And  the  same  holy 
doctor  reminds  us  that  God  has  given  to  the  wicked  the  riches  and  honors 
of  this  life,  lest  these  should  be  overvalued  by  the  just. 

And  only  think  for  a  moment.  Think  of  the  chosen  people  of  God, 
the  cherished  people  of  the  Jews.  Look  at  the  map  of  the  world :  see " 
the  little  corner  of  Asia  into  which  they  were  hemmed  ;  while  the  Pagan 
Empires  of  the  East  and  West  held  the  rest  of  the  known  world.  See 
our  own  poor,  faithful  land  of  Ireland  :  the  chosen  people  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  are  in  a  little  remote  island  washed  by  a  lonely  sea  ;  their 
history  is  one  of  short  glories  -and  long  trials ;  their  name  is  a  name  of 
pity  to  the  world.  And  proud,  imperial  peoples,  whose  hands  are  grasp- 
ing, whose  hearts  are  corrupt,  whose  faith  is  broken,  are  victorious  in 
every  clime,  prosperous,  educated,  wealthy,  and  in  honor.  Ah,  how 
empty,  then,  is  all  that  prosperity :  how  little  God  must  value  it  when  it 
is  thus  He  gives  it !  How  little  we  shall  long  for  it,  or  pine  over  its  loss, 
if  only  we  hold  it  at  the  price  He  has  set  on  it ;  and  surely  He  knows 
best. 

And  you,  dear  brethren,  to  whom  I  love  most  to  speak,  you  who  are 
the  special  joy  and  crown  of  a  Christian  priest ;  you  faithful  poor,  to  you 
this  lesson  comes  home,  oh,  how  touchingly  !  How  sad  it  were  for  you 
to  lay  great  store  by  riches  that  you  can  never  possess,  or  even  by  the 
comfort  and  modest  independence  that  your  hard  lot  prevents  many  of 
you  from  ever  hoping  to  attain.  How  sad  your  humble  homes  would  be 
if  you  were  to  think  that  real  happiness  dwelt  only  under  lofty  roofs,  and 
within  shapely  walls,  but  never  in  the  thatched  cabins  of  the  poor.  Surely 


312  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

for  you  these  are  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  that  God,  who  knows  the 
true  value  of  things,  ranks  poverty  before  wealth,  and  has  given,  in  this  life, 
the  lowly  lot  mostly  to  those  whom  He  has  elected  for  His  own,  and  the 
high  stations  of  the  world  very  often  to  those  who  are  His  enemies.  Try, 
my  dear  friends,  to  see  life  thus,  and  you  will  not  sadden  your  already  sad 
estate  by  fruitless  longing  for  what  you  will  never  have — for  what,  if  you 
had  it,  would  not  make  you  truly  happy.  In  your  Father's  Kingdom 
there  are  many  mansions ;  into  those  mansions  from  out  your  huts  of 
clay  you  will  gladly  enter,  provided  only  that  you  set  your  hearts  there, 
while  you  are  suffering  here.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  put  from  you  that 
longing  for  riches  and  rest  so  natural  to  the  heart  of  man,  and  planted 
there  by  God.  But,  with  the  Apostle,  I  ask  you  to  turn  that  longing  to 
true  riches,  not  false  ones ;  to  true  and  lasting  homes,  not  crumbling 
ones  of  earth ;  to  a  rest  that  will  know  no  disturbance,  and  not  to  the 
troubled  and  spectre-haunted  repose  of  sinners  in  this  world. 

But,  brethren,  the  lesson  is  for  all — for  rich  and  poor.  For  the  poor, 
as  we  have  seen,  that  they  should  not  think  too  much  of  the  evils 
that  oppress  them,  or  of  the  goods  they  are  deprived  of ;  for  the  rich, 
that,  accepting  thankfully  from  God  the  bounties  of  His  hand,  they 
should  not  set  their  hearts  upon  them,  seeing  that  God  gives  them  to 
those  who  are  His  enemies,  and  to  whom  He  owes,  even  now.  His 
direst  vengeance.  Riches,  which  make  this  life  seem  so  happy  at  times, 
have  their  own  distress  and  difficulty.  If  taken  at  more  than  their 
proper  value,  if  looked  at  as  real  goods,  as  an  end  in  life,  as  a  final  and 
supreme  satisfaction,  they  become  the  heaviest  of  God's  curses,  and  the 
most  awful  of  His  punishments  here  on  earth,  since  they  render  penance 
so  hard,  and  shut  out  with  their  deceptive  veil  the  terrors  of  Eternity. 
Look  to  the  end,  then :  at  the  gate  of  Eternity  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
the  strong  and  the  ailing,  the  prosperous  and  the  broken,  will  shortly 
(oh,  how  shortly !)  meet.  What  the  past  has  been  in  regard  to  the  goods 
and  ills  of  life  will  matter  little  then  and  there  ;  but  it  will  be  of  awful  mo- 
ment what  the  past  has  to  show  of  resignation  to  God's  appointments,  of 
conformity  with  God's  will,  of  longing  and  striving  for  this — God's  day. 
"Then  will  be  the  time  for  everything" — for  everything  that  seemed 
good  and  pleasant,  for  everything  that  seemed  evil  and  grievous.  For 
then  God  will  judge  the  just  and  the  unjust,  not  according  to  their  happi- 
ness or  misery,  but  according  to  their  works ;  and  many  that  received 
good  things  in  this  life  shall  then  enter  into  torments,  and  many  that  re- 
ceived evil  things  in  this  life  shall  enter  into  comfort  and  rest. 


ABSTINENCE. 

(quinquagesima.) 

'  Everyone  that  striveth  for  the  mastery abstaineth  from  all  things." — i  COR.  ix.  25. 

T  seems,  brethren,  that  these  words  which  I  have  chosen  for  my 
text  have  a  very  special  significance  for  us  to-day.  For  it  is 
my  duty  to  address  you,  who  so  really  and  truly  abstain  that 
you  are  formed  into  a  Society  of  Abstinence,  of  total  absti- 
nence from  intoxicating  drinks ;  and  beyond  your  ranks,  my  words  must 
go  out  to  those  who  with  you  and  with  all  the  children  of  Holy  Church 
are  about  to  enter  on  the  great  season  of  abstinence — of  abstinence  from 
certain  kinds  and  quantities  of  food — the  abstinence  of  Lent.  I  have  no 
fear,  then,  that  in  speaking  to  members  of  this  Society  my  words  may 
fall  short  of  those  who  are  not  members ;  for  my  text  points  to  an  absti- 
nence which  belongs  to  no  section  of  Christians,  but  to  all  who  strive  for 
the  Christian's  incorruptible  crown  :  for  "  every  one  " — St.  Paul  makes  no 
exception — "  that  striveth  for  the  mastery,  abstaineth  ";  and  mark,  not 
from  certain  drinks,  or  certain  food,  but  "from  all  things  " — that  is,  from 
all  that  can  interfere  with  his  success  in  the  struggle.  Let  us,  then,  to- 
day consider  this  matter  of  abstinence  in  its  widest  signification,  as  a 
matter  touching  all  Christians,  and  preached  by  the  Apostle  to  all. 

We  are  met  at  the  outset  by  those  who  ask :  Why  should  there  be 
any  abstinence  at  all  from  innocent  things  ?  Surely  it  is  enough  to  ab- 
stain from  what  is  bad :  for  instance,  from  excess  in  drinking,  or,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  from  excess  in  eating.  But  is  there  not  a  happy  medium 
• — the  safe  road  of  moderation  ?  Let  us  be  moderate,  by  all  means ;  but 
why  ask  us  to  abstain  ?  Abstinence  is  not  moderation  ;  total  abstinence 
from  intoxicants  is  an  extreme  course,  not  a  moderate  one ;  and  so  is 
total  abstinence  from  flesh  meat.  It  is  an  extreme  measure  to  stop  all 
meat  on  Friday,  or  on  certain  days  in  Lent,  or  on  every  day  in  Lent,  as 
was  the  case  before  a  dispensation  was  given  for  certain  days.  Does  not 
all  this — so  say  the  apostles  of  moderation — run  counter  to  the  common 
sense  of  mankind,  which  ever  points  to  the  wisdom  of  a  middle  course  ? 

Our  answer,  brethren,  is  contained  in  the  words  of  my  text.     We  are 

(313) 


314  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

"  striving  for  the  mastery  "  in  a  struggle — a  struggle  with  a  powerful 
enemy,  where  success  will  win  for  us  an  everlasting  crown,  and  where  de- 
feat means  everlasting  perdition.  In  such  a  struggle  who  would  advise 
moderation  ?  The  joys  of  heaven,  the  pains  of  hell,  are  not  moderate. 
No,  nor  should  our  striving  to  gain  the  one  and  avoid  the  other  be 
moderate  either.  That  is  why  Jesus  has  said  :  "  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  (not  the  moderate)  bear  it  away."  The 
foes  with  whom  we  strive,  and  who  would,  if  they  could,  violently  tear 
from  us  that  crown  and  that  Kingdom,  are  not  given  to  moderation. 
They  may  preach  it  to  us,  but  they  do  not  practice  it.  We  must  meet 
violence  by  violence ;  and  since  we  have  to  fight,  we  must  choose  those 
weapons  which  are  strong  enough  to  stand  and  to  prevail  against  our  as- 
sailants. Now,  our  body  is  one  of  our  chief  foes.  It  is  the  body  that 
damns  most  of  the  souls  that  are  damned.  The  body  has  its  allies  in  the 
World  and  the  Devil,  but  it  is  itself  the  great  power  we  have  to  fight. 
You  know  how  often  St.  Paul  tells  us  of  this  miserable  fact,  that  we  bear 
with  us  a  body  of  death — a  body  that  is  in  lifelong  struggle  with  the 
soul,  striving  for  the  mastery,  striving  to  make  the  soul  fall,  and  then  to 
keep  it  down.  "  I  see  a  law  in  my  members  fighting  against  the  law  of 
my  mind,  and  captivating  me  in  the  law  of  sin  that  is  in  my  members. 
Unhappy  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?  "  And  again  :  "  The  Wisdom  of  the  flesh  is  Death  ;  but  the 
Wisdom  of  the  Spirit  is  life  and  peace.  If  you  live  according  to  the 
flesh,  you  shall  die.  But  if  by  the  Spirit  you  mortify  the  deeds  of  the 
flesh,  you  shall  live." 

There  is  the  struggle  we  have  each  of  us  in  hand — it  is  a  matter  of 
life  and  death,  of  eternal  life  or  eternal  death.  Who  then,  believing  this, 
will  counsel  any  but  the  most  vigorous  striving,  the  most  far-seeing 
tactics,  the  utmost  courage  and  self-sacrificing  devotion  to  the  cause  ? 
What  less,  in  such  a  strife,  would  gain  the  mastery  ? 

One  great  means,  you  know,  brethren,  of  reducing  an  enemy  in  war  is 
cutting  off  his  supplies.  You  may  have  heard  of  great  and  perilous 
efforts  made  to  prevent  provision  trains  from  reaching  the  hostile  lines. 
Some  of  the  most  famous  battles  in  history  have  been  fought  between 
those  who  attacked  and  those  who  defended  the  wagons  that  bore  food 
to  the  hungry  soldiers.  You  have  heard  of  cities  reduced  to  surrender 
by  blockade  alone — the  food  supply  running  short.  Well,  in  the 
great  fight  between  the  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  the  same  tactics  are  pursued. 
The  body  would  strive  to  cut  off  supplies,  to  starve  the  soul  into  a  sur- 
render. And  so  the  body  cuts  short  the  prayers  that  bring  grace  to  the. 
soul.  The  body  will  cry  for  its  extra  sleep  in  the  morning;  and  then  will 
be  urgent  in  its  haste  to  work,  or  to  exercise,  or  to  food  ;  and  so  morning 


FATHER  RYAN.  315 

prayers  and  the  graces  they  bring  are  cut  off.  Evening  comes,  and  the 
body  cries  for  sleep.  Prayers  at  night  are  too  long :  the  Rosary  is  made 
only  a  succession  of  broken  sleeps,  and  finally  is  omitted  altogether. 
Night  prayers  are  thus  reduced  to  a  mere  form ;  the  poor  soul  will  soon 
be  starved  out  at  this  rate  :  the  body  is  succeeding  well  in  cutting  off  the 
supplies.  And  above  all,  Mass  and  the  Sacraments  are  the  objects  of 
attack.  The  day  is  too  fine  to  go  to  confession,  or  it  is  too  wet,  too  hot, 
or  too  cold.  The  morning's  fast  is  too  much ;  so  Holy  Communion  is 
put  off.  And  so  on.  You  know  these  tactics  of  the  Flesh  and  these 
promptings  of  the  Devil  only  too  well.  It  is  all  to  cut  off  the  supplies  of 
grace  to  the  soul,  and  thus  to  force  it  to  surrender.  For  "  the  Wisdom 
of  the  flesh  is  Death."  The  body  is  striving  to  make  the  soul  a  total 
abstainer  from  prayer  and  all  that  can  bring  grace  and  strength ;  striving 
to  conquer  for  Hell  by  means  of  this  fatal  spiritual  abstinence. 

But,  dear  brethren,  let  me  use  a  homely  phrase,  and  say  that  two  can 
play  at  that  game.  If  the  body  tries  with  such  fatal  success  to  cut  off 
supplies  from  the  soul,  why  should  not  the  soul  cut  off  supplies  from  the 
body?  If  the  body  would  enforce  abstinence,  and  even  total  abstinence, 
from  spiritual  food,  why  should  not  the  soul  enforce  a  like  abstinence 
from  corporal  food  ?  What  is  fair  to  the  one  combatant  is  fair  to  the 
other;  and  what  is  so  powerful  in  behalf  of  the  Flesh  will  surely 
be  as  powerful  in  behalf  of  the  Spirit.  That  such  is  the  case  is 
sufficiently  proved  by  St.  Paul's  words :  "  If  by  the  Spirit  you  mor- 
tify the  deeds  of  the  Flesh,  you  shall  live."  And  such  is  the  teach- 
ing of  the  soul's  great  ally  in  this  struggle — the  Church  of  God.  For  as 
the  Flesh  is  helped  by  the  Devil  and  the  World,  so  is  the  Spirit  by  the 
Angels  and  Saints,  and  by  Holy  Church.  The  Church  has  therefore 
fixed  certain  times  for  warring  against  the  Flesh  by  the  arms  of  absti 
nence.  There  are  seasons  when  there  is,  so  to  speak,  a  grand  attack 
made  upon  the  supplies  of  the  enemy ;  when  all  Catholics  join  publicly 
in  compelling  their  bodies  to  abstain  from  the  food  at  other  times  per- 
mitted to  them,  and  when  what  was  before  left  to  each  individual  is 
enforced  under  the  penalty  of  grievous  sin.  Such  a  time  is  the  time  of 
Lent,  on  which  we  are  about  to  enter :  a  time  when  the  Flesh  is  harassed 
by  the  Spirit,  when  the  body  is  punished  and  weakened  and  brought  into 
subjection  by  the  soul :  a  time  when  each  faithful  Catholic  can  say,  with 
the  Apostle,  "  I  chastise  my  body,  and  bring  it  into  subjection." 

And  as  there  are  special  times  when  all  the  soldiers  of  the  Church, 
unless  released  by  dispensation,  are  bound  to  this  warfare  of  Abstinence, 
so  there  are  special  bodies  of  her  great  army  bound  at  all  times  to  carry 
on  these  tactics.  As  in  the  armies  of  nations  there  are  certain  regiments 
trained  in  the  use  of  certain  armsf  and  provided  with  these  arms  prin- 


316  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

cipally — some  with  cannon,  some  with  rifles,  some  with  swords  or  lances, 
and  some  with  mattocks  and  axes  for  clearing  a  path  for  the  rest,  so  in 
God's  army  the  Church  has  assigned  to  certain  orders  certain  arms:  to 
one  the  arm  of  extraordinary  prayer,  to  others  extraordinary  fasting  and 
abstinence,  to  others  extraordinary  works  of  mercy,  and  so  on.  Mark, 
the  rest  of  men  are  not  thereby  freed  from  the  duty  of  ordinary  prayer 
and  penance  and  charity;  but  to  those  chosen  bodies  the  practice  of 
these  virtues  is  assigned  in  a  special  and  extraordinary  way.  Thus,  we 
know,  there  are  religious  orders  given  entirely  to  contemplation  within 
their  strict  inclosures ;  and  there  are  other  orders  whose  members  are 
total  abstainers  from  flesh  meat,  who  rise  in  the  mid-hours  of  night  to 
watch  and  pray  and  carry  on  the  warfare  while  others  rest.  And  there  is 
here  gathered  together  in  this  church  to  day  yet  another  band  of  the 
soldiers  of  the  Cross — those  who  have  pledged  their  loyal  word  to  God 
to  abstain  totally  from  all  intoxicating  drink.  Thus  we  have  in  the 
Church  that  abstinence  from  all  things  of  which  St.  Paul  speaks:  that 
general  attack,  in  one  way  or  another,  upon  the  supplies  of  this  body  of 
death  against  which  we  are  obliged  to  wage  unceasing  war,  striving  for 
the  mastery. 

But  besides  this  public  warfare — this  abstinence  of  certain  stated 
times,  and  of  certain  organized  bodies  within  the  Church — there  is  the 
private  and  particular  warfare  which  each  soul  must  wage  against  his  own 
body.  That  struggle  for  the  mastery  is  of  all  seasons,  and  of  all  sorts 
and  conditions.  For  the  very  life  of  man  is,  as  Job  declares,  a  warfare; 
and  what  is  life  but  the  union  of  body  and  soul,  the  grappling  together 
of  the  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  in  a  long,  unceasing  struggle?  Brethren, 
have  you  ever  really  understood  this?  Have  you  ever  truly  taken  in  the 
meaning  of  St.  Paul's  words  when,  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  told 
you  that  the  body  and  soul  of  man  are  deadly  enemies  to  each  other ; 
that  the  Flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit ;  and  that,  unless  this  body  of 
flesh  be  chastised  and  kept  under,  it  will  murder  the  soul  and  drag  it 
down  to  hell  ?  Very  different  is  the  doctrine  of  the  world.  There,  the 
body  is  everything :  the  body  is  fed  and  pampered,  its  every  sense  sup- 
plied with  luxury;  delicacies  are  spread  for  it  to  taste,  sweet  sounds  for 
it  to  hear,  fragrant  perfumes  are  sprinkled  over  it,  fair  sights  displayed 
before  it ;  it  is  clad  in  the  softest  raiment,  and  sumptuously  housed ;  all 
pain  is  kept  as  far  as  may  be  from  it,  and  the  thought  of  its  death  is  hid- 
den away.  And  why  is  this?  Because  the  world  treats  this  body  of 
death  as  though  it  were  a  friend  and  not  an  enemy.  The  world  denies 
the  fact  of  the  great  death-struggle  between  the  body  and  the  soul,  and 
treats  the  words  of  St.  Paul  as  though  they  were  a  worn-out  superstition. 
But  let  us  not  make  so  fearful  a  mistake.     Let  us  lay  to  heart  the  truth 


FATHER  RYAN.  317 

which  we  learned  in  our  catechisms :  that  we  are  very  much  inchned  to 
evil,  that  if  we  give  up  the  struggle  against  this  strong  inclination  all  is 
over  with  us.  The  enemy  never  gives  up.  From  childhood  to  old  age 
the  body  of  death  is  striving  for  the  mastery,  now  in  bne  way,  now  in 
another ;  now  by  lust,  now  by  anger  or  hate ;  now  by  sloth,  now  by 
covetousness — always  striving.  With  such  a  foe  can  there  be  ever  truce  ? 
No,  never,  till  the  grip  of  the  combatants  shall  relax  in  death.  The 
Christian  soul  must  struggle  on,  chastising,  cutting  off  the  supplies  by 
abstinence,  in  the  morning  of  life,  and  in  the  evening ;  for  a  victory 
might  be  snatched  even  in  the  shadows  of  the  last  hour.  Ah,  no  wonder 
that  he  who  realized  this  never-ceasing  strife — no  wonder  that,  while 
others  clung  to  life,  St.  Paul  should  cry  out — "  Who  will  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  ? "  No  wonder  he  should  long  for  the  time  to 
come  when  the  soul  at  last  should  shake  itself  free  from  the  body — no 
wonder  he  should  "  desire  to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with  Christ." 

Brethren,  look  at  Jesus.  See  how  He  treated  His  body.  In  Him 
there  was  indeed  no  struggle.  His  holy  body  and  soul  were  both  of  God. 
Nor  could  there  be  between  them  any  struggle,  for  in  neither  of  them 
could  there  be  any  sin.  And  yet,  that  He  might  be  with  us,  our  stay 
and  comfort  in  our  weary  struggle.  He  chastised  His  innocent  body:  He 
gave  His  back  to  the  scourge,  and  His  head  to  the  thorns,  His  face  to  the 
spittle,  and  His  hands  and  feet  to  nails.  Let  us,  when  our  struggle 
seems  too  hard,  and  when  our  spirit  seems  to  waver,  let  us  look  at  Him, 
and  we  shall  be  strong.  It  was  for  us,  to  encourage  each  soul  to  strive 
for  the  mastery,  that  He  suffered  these  things ;  and  it  will  give  our  poor 
penance  and  abstinence  a  wondrous  power  if  only  we  unite  them  to  those 
sufferings  of  Jesus  on  the  Cross.  Let  us  all,  then,  resolve  to  carry  on  the 
struggle  manfully.  Let  us  enter  on  the  abstinence  of  Lent,  understand- 
ing what  that  abstinence  means,  why  it  has  been  ordered  us,  and  what  it 
may  do  for  us.  And  even  when  Lent  is  over,  we  must  remember  that 
the  struggle  between  the  body  and  the  soul  will  not  have  ceased,  nor 
therefore  the  necessity  that  every  one  that  striveth  for  the  mastery  should 
still  abstain  from  all  things. 

And  you,  especially,  to  whom  I  am  so  strongly  bound,  belonging  as  I 
do  to  the  same  band  of  God's  army — the  band  of  Total  Abstainers  from 
intoxicating  drinks — remember  that  in  your  loyal  fidelity  to  your  pledge 
lies  your  hope  of  conquering  your  bodies  of  death  and  winning  the  final 
victory.  Dear  friends,  you  may  be  heroes  in  the  struggle.  You  are 
chosen  ones  of  God.  You  have  the  blessing  of  the  Church  upon  your 
abstinence.  Do  not  waver.  If  you  feel  tempted,  look  up  to  your  stand- 
ard :  look  at  the  Cross.  Hear  your  Master,  in  His  dying  accents,  bidding 
you  to  be  true.     "/  thirst !''  He  cries;  "/  am  an  abstainer  in  deatkJ" 


318 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


And  if  there  are  any  here  who,  moved  by  that  cry  from  the  Cross,  wish 
to  imitate  Jesus  in  His  thirst,  wish  to  bring  comfort  to  His  breaking 
Heart,  to  win  a  victory  over  their  bodies  of  death,  let  them  this  very  day 
join  this  band  of  Total  Abstinence,  and  range  themselves  under  the 
standard  of  Jesus  thirsting  on  the  Cross.  Do  you  who  have  already 
joined  renew  your  pledge  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  crucified,  and  do  so  as 
often  as  you  look  at  the  Crucifix  there  before  you,  or  pass  by  that  stand- 
ing before  this  church.  If  you  do  that,  there  is  little  fear  that,  with  His 
cry,  ^^  I  thirst!"  in  your  ears,  you  will  ever  break  your  pledge  or  desert 
His  side. 

Dear  friends,  do  not  let  the  length  of  this  life-struggle  dishearten  you. 
As  surely  as  Lent  passes  into  Easter,  so  surely  will  the  strife  between  the 
Flesh  and  the  Spirit,  between  your  body  and  your  soul,  and  all  the  pen- 
ance, and  abstinence,  and  weariness  of  that  strife,  end  in  death.  If  you 
shall  have  so  striven,  so  abstained,  as  to  have  gained  the  mastery,  your 
end  will  be  peace  and  rest.  The  conquered  body  shall  be  laid  into  its 
grave,  for  it  is  a  body  of  death.  But  in  its  ashes  shall  remain  a  seed  that 
is  not  of  death  ;  and  the  day  shall  come  when,  in  reward  for  its  abstinence 
and  chastisement,  suffered  in  the  days  of  its  struggle  here,  "  this  cor- 
ruptible shall  put  on  incorruption ;  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immor- 
tality," and  in  your  flesh  you  shall  see  God. 


THE  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  MASS. 

(holy  THURSDAY.) 

"  And  I  looked :  and  behold  ...  a  Lamb,  standing  as  it  were  slain, " — Apoc.  v.  6. 

jHE  devout  Catholic,  dear  brethren,  will  be  ever  anxious,  on 
feasts  such  as  this,  to  place  himself,  both  in  thought  and  feel- 
ing, in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  the  Church.  It  is  natural, 
between  Son  and  Mother,  that  there  should  be  the  same  days 
of  joy,  the  same  days  of  sorrow.  If  as  children,  then,  we  look  inquiring- 
ly into  our  Mother's  face,  and  listen  to  the  tones  of  her  voice,  on  this 
Holy  Thursday,  seeking  to  know  that  we  may  share  her  spirit,  we  shall 
be  at  once  arrested  by  the  strange  contrast  between  the  joy  and  the 
sorrow  that  unite  in  her  ceremonies  and  in  her  words  to-day.  In  the 
Matins  and  Lauds  of  this  feast,  which  we  sang  last  night,  no  sound  of 
joy  was  heard ;  only  the  sad  plaint  of  the  Prophet's  lamentation,  the  first 
wail  of  the  sorrowing  Church  over  the  Passion  of  her  Spouse.  This 
morning,  however,  all  was  changed.  The  pealing  organ,  the  Gloria  in 
Excelsis,  the  Pange  Lingud,  and  the  grand  procession,  the  white  vest- 
ments, the  altar  decked  with  flowers,  and  all  the  thrilling  gladness  of 
Catholic  festivity,  seemed  to  bid  our  hearts  rejoice,  and  have  done  with 
grief.  But  that  joy  has  ended  now  :  the  day  that  opened  so  brightly  is 
closing  sadly ;  and  again  we  have  been  listening  to  our  Mother's  voice, 
"  mourning  for  Him  whom  we  have  pierced,  as  one  mourneth  for  an  only 
son  ;  sorrow-stricken,  as  is  one  who  sorrows  over  the  first-born." 

This  twofold  rite  speaks  of  a  twofold  mystery  ;  tells  us  that  this  Holy 
Thursday  is  doubly  holy ;  holy  with  the  sanctity  both  of  sorrow  and  of 
joy ;  sadly  holy,  because  it  is  the  eve  of  Good  Friday,  with  something  of 
Calvary's  gloom  upon  it ;  gladly  holy,  because  it  is  the  Feast  of  the  Last 
Supper,  the  first  Mass,  and  on  it  the  gleam  from  a  thousand  radiant  al- 
tars. It  is,  thus,  the  feast  of  Sacrifice ;  of  the  twofold  Sacrifice  of  the 
New  Law :  of  the  Sacrifice  once  offered  in  blood  on  Calvary,  and  of  that 
unbloody  Sacrifice,  offered  through  every  succeeding  age,  in  countless 
Christian  sanctuaries.  There  is  a  world  of  theology — not  hard  or  dry, 
but  full  of  sweetness  and  of  winning  truth — in  this  union  of  the  Cross 
and  the  Christian  altar  ;  in  this  offering  of  the  first  Mass  at  the  entrance, 

(319) 


320  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

as  it  were,  of  the  Garden  of  Gethsemani ;  in  this  blending  of  the  tones  of 
grief  and  jubilee  on  Holy  Thursday.  It  is  a  theology  that  teaches  us 
that  there  never  has  been  a  Mass  offered  in  any  age  or  in  any  place,  which 
has  not  been  as  closely  bound  up  with  the  Passion  of  Jesus,  as  was  the 
first  Mass,  which  He  offered  "  the  day  before  He  suffered."  The  aspect 
of  the  Mass  most  fitted,  therefore,  for  our  loving  contemplation  to-night 
is  that  aspect  which  looks  to  Calvary.  The  Mass,  then,  as  a  Sacrifice, 
unbloody,  but  commemorative  of  the  Great  Sacrifice  in  blood ;  real  itself 
at  every  altar,  and  at  the  same  time  typical  of  the  past  oblation  on  the 
Cross:  the  Mass,  full  itself  of  power  and  grace,  yet  applying  merits,  not 
its  own,  of  a  complete  Redemption  ;  strong  to  win  love  and  devotion 
by  its  own  beauty,  yet  turning  that  love  and  devotion,  when  won,  to 
Jesus  Crucified  :  that  is  what  the  Church  asks  us  to  contemplete  to-day. 
Let  us  consider,  then,  what  is  the  nature  of  a  Sacrifice,  approaching  the 
subject  not  by  way  of  mere  theological  inquiry,  but  rather  seeking  with 
simple  hearts  to  know  better,  that  we  may  love  better,  that  wondrous 
mystery  in  our  midst — the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass. 

God  gives  man  his  being,  and  places  him  upon  the  earth,  with  a  sov- 
ereignty over  all  the  other  works  of  creation.  ^^Omnia  subjecisti  sub  pedi- 
bus  ejus.''  ("  Thou  hast  put  all  things  beneath  his  feet.")  At  man's  com- 
mand is  all  the  visible  universe,  the  outcome  of  countless  ages  of  prepara- 
tion for  his  day.  He  looks  out  upon  the  world,  and  sees  there  a  beauty 
and  harmony  that  his  eye  alone  can  delight  in ;  he  gazes  into  the  depths 
of  the  starry  night,  and  within  him  are  mysterious  sympathies,  spanning 
that  all  but  infinite  space,  and  seeming  to  draw  those  spheres  within  his 
grasp.  The  animal  life  of  nature,  with  its  strength  and  its  ferocity,  its 
instinct  and  its  cunning,  is  ruled  by  his  intelligence.  And  that  intelli- 
gence itself — how  wonderful  its  power — bringing  into  the  unity  of  a 
single  mind  all  that  beauty,  all  that  law,  all  that  vastness,  all  that  life ! 

Such  is  man's  royalty.  He  stands  the  king  of  all  creation.  But 
greater  power  is  in  him  than  mere  kingship.  He  cannot  only  look  down, 
but  he  can  also  look  up.  He  alone  of  all  around  him  has  an  immortal, 
reasonable  soul,  a  communion  with  the  hidden  spiritual  world,  the  power 
of  speech  with  God,  that  makes  him  more  than  king  of  the  universe,  inas- 
much as  it  makes  him  its  Priest,  and  that  gives  to  him  alone  the  mind 
and  the  voice  that  can  offer  at  the  Creator's  throne  the  homage  of 
Creation. 

How  shall  this  offering  be  made?  How  shall  man  acquit  himself  of 
this  awful,  priestly  trust  ?  What  shall  he  give  in  his  own  name,  and  in 
the  name  of  the  universe  he  represents,  to  be  a  token  to  the  Great  God 
of  his  homage  and  dependence?  He  finds  one  gift,  my  brethren,  and  it 
seems  the  fairest  thing  God  ever  gave,  the  one  that  best  of  all  can  em- 


FATHER  RYAN.  321 

brace  and  represent  the  worth  and  beauty  of  Creation  ;  the  one  that  man 
himself  holds  dearer  far  than  all — his  life.  A  splendid  gift  indeed  !  A 
wondrous  homage !  A  human  life.  The  mysterious  force,  that  not  only 
joins  the  soul  and  body  and  knits  them  into  strictest  fellowship,  but 
further  joins  with  its  hidden  link  that  soul  and  body,  that  living  indi- 
vidual man,  with  all  that  lies  below  him  and  beyond  him  in  the  world  of 
sense.  For  it  is  life  that  enables  the  eye  to  rest,  and  the  spirit  to  rejoice 
in  every  grace  of  sea  and  shore,  of  rugged  hill  and  fruitful  plain,  in  the 
burning  heavens  at  dawn  and  sundown,  in  the  vastness  of  the  glittering 
ocean,  in  the  tender  promise-blossoms  of  the  early  Spring.  It  is  life  that 
wakes  the  ear  to  trills  of  song  from  wood  and  thicket,  to  the  measured 
plash  of  the  ocean  wave,  or  to  that  subtler  harmony  that  spells  so  won- 
drously  the  soul  of  man.  It  is  life  that  makes  the  heaving  chest  inhale 
through  mouth  and  nostril  the  keen  winter  air,  or  the  mild,  scent-laden 
breath  of  summer.  It  is  life  that  in  fulness  and  in  health  makes  all  na- 
ture glad  to  the  soul  of  man :  that  even  in  sickness  and  in  pain  is  still 
clung  to  and  hugged,  its  boon  held  greater  than  its  cost.  Take  life  away 
and  all  the  beauty  of  earth  and  sky  and  sea  finds  no  reflection  in  the  dull 
and  glassy  eye ;  the  woodland  song  and  the  harmonious  chord  find  no 
vibrating  sympathy  in  the  cold,  unheeding  ear ;  the  breeze  sweeps  by, 
balmy  or  bracing,  but  cannot  swell  the  breathless  nostril,  nor  raise  the 
sunken  chest.  Take  life  away,  and  high  hope,  boundless  sympathy,  the 
kinship  with  Creation — all  is  at  an  end  ;  "  this  sensible  warm  motion  has 
become  a  kneaded  clod." 

Such  is  the  human  life,  such  the  gift  that  man  holds  worthy  to  offer 
to  his  God  in  token  of  his  dependence  on  that  Divine  bounty  for  every 
good  within  him  and  without ;  in  thanksgiving  for  the  fact  of  his 
existence,  for  the  power  given  him,  above  all  creatures,  to  praise  and 
love  his  Maker.  This  owing  of  the  human  life  as  homage  to  God  is  the 
great  spirit  of  Sacrifice,  and  man,  whom  God  created  as  Nature's  Priest, 
now  offers  himself  as  Nature's  Victim.  But  alas !  man  sinned  ;  and  at 
his  fall  there  rose  from  all  the  universe  a  mightier  cry  for  Sacrifice,  no 
longer  as  homage  alone,  but  now  also  as  propitiation,  to  appease  an  angry 
God.  That  cry  was  answered  by  the  rejection  of  man's  Sacrifice ;  for  as 
priest  and  victim  Jie  was  foul  with  the  blot  of  sin,  stained,  and  fallen 
before  his  Maker,  Poor  man !  Stained  and  fallen  man !  Still  Priest, 
with  the  urgency  of  a  double  sacrificial  debt  of  homage  and  propitiation, 
and  with  no  victim  to  offer  but  one  rejected  by  his  God ;  no  altar,  but 
one  puUuted  by  his  sin !  Of  what  avail  is  it  for  him  to  seek  in  lower 
lives  a  substitute  for  his  own  grand,  fallen  life  ?  and  in  the  innocence  of 
soulless  beasts  a  reparation  for  the  crimes  of  his  intelligence  ?  Can  those 
rivers  of  less  noble  blood  flowing  from  the  altars  of  Abel,  of  Abraham,  of 


322  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

Aaron,  satisfy  for  man's  rebellion  ?  No,  cries  the  Apostle,  "  It  is  im- 
possible that  by  the  blood  of  oxen  and  of  goats  sins  should  be  remitted. 
Wherefore,  when  He  cometh  into  this  world.  He  saith,  Sacrifice  and 
oblation  thou  wouldst  not,  but  a  Body  thou  hast  fitted  to  Me.  Holocausts 
for  sin  did  not  please  thee,  then  said  I,  behold  I  COME." 

Yes,  the  Eternal  Word,  the  Only-begotten  Son  of  God,  took  flesh, 
that  in  it  He  might  pay  the  debt  of  homage  and  expiation  that  was 
owed  by  the  sinful  flesh  of  man.  God  became  man,  and  lived  a  human 
life,  that  in  man's  body  He  might  make  of  that  human  life  a  sacrifice 
acceptable  as  homage,  sufficient  as  reparation.  It  is  as  man  that  Jesus 
is  Priest :  it  is  as  man  that  Jesus  is  Victim.  When  to-morrow  we  gaze 
upon  the  Sacrifice  on  Calvary,  we  shall  see  upon  the  cross  a  human  form. 
Those  eyes  there  dimmed  in  death  have  wept  with  human  sympathy  over 
human  sorrows.  Upon  that  breast  there  yielding  up  its  breath  has  rested 
the  disciple  whom  the  SufTerer  loved.  Those  hands,  pierced  and  fixed  on 
high,  have  known  the  warm  pressure  of  a  mother's  clasp.  That  broken 
Heart  has  throbbed  for  human  suffering,  has  been  wrung  by  the  cry  of 
human  desolation.  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me?" 
is  a  human  cry.  "  Surely  He  hath  borne  our  infirmities,  and  carried  our 
sorrows.  He  was  wounded  for  our  iniquities,  He  was  bruised  for  our 
sins"!  Oh,  man.  Calvary  is  your  altar,  and  there  at  last  your  debt  is 
paid !  No  longer  does  Creation  lie  beneath  you,  silent  before  its  God, 
because  you,  its  only  tongue,  are  dumb-stricken  by  your  sin — because 
you,  its  only  priest,  have  lost  your  power  of  sacrifice,  and  stained  your 
altar  and  your  victim.  Here  is  One  "  who  offered  Himself  unspotted  unto 
God,"  "the  Mediator  of  the  new  testament."     "This  Man,  offering  one 

Sacrifice  for  sins by  one  oblation  hath  perfected  forever  them  that 

are  sanctified."  This  Son  of  Man  is  the  "  high-priest,  holy,  innocent, 
undefiled,"  "  the  Son  who  is  perfected  forevermore." 

But,  brethren,  God  has  not  willed  that  sacrifice  should  end  on  Calvary. 
It  is  true  that  the  redemption  there  was  so  entire  that  no  other  is  possible. 
It  is  true  that  the  lifeless  human  body  has  since  risen,  and  "  dieth  now  no 
more."  True  that  the  blood-shedding  there  was  an  infinite  surpassing 
reparation  to  God  for  sin,  so  that  no  crime  could  ever  be  committed  that 
would  lie  beyond  the  reach  of  its  saving  tide.  True  that  there  was  the 
fulfilment  of  prophecy  and  type :  there  the  one  all-holy  Victim,  of  which 
the  victims  of  the  Old  Law  were  but  the  shadow  and  the  promise.  But 
yet,  sacrifice  was  not  to  end.  A  voice  from  the  past,  a  prophet's  voice, 
had  told  of  another  sacrifice,  a  clean  oblation,  which  should  be  offered 
from  the  rising  of  the  sun  even  to  the  going  down  thereof.  But  only  one 
day  has  seen  its  sun  darkened  over  Calvary — only  one  spot  of  earth  has 
been  wet  with  the  redeeming  blood  of  Jesus.     He  wills  His  sacrifice  to 


FATHER  RYAN.  323 

be  nearer  to  His  people  than  this — He  wills  to  be  offered  up  where  you 
and  I  can  see  the  offering  every  day,  and  can  be  ourselves  present  at 
His  Sacrifice.  He  wills  to  be  offered  upon  our  altars,  in  the  Mass.  And 
so  we  pass  from  Calvary,  which  has  taught  us  what  is  the  worth  of  the 
Christian  Sacrifice,  to  the  supper-room,  where,  on  this  Holy  Thursday 
evening,  "  the  day  before  He  suffered,"  '*  when  evening  was  come,"  "  the 
same  night  in  which  He  was  betrayed,"  He  instituted,  and  offered  up  for 
the  first  time,  that  sacrifice  which  has  brought  into  every  land  and  into 
every  age  the  Priest  and  the  Victim  of  the  Mount ;  which  has  remained, 
amidst  the  sins  of  a  corrupt  world,  a  clean  oblation,  whose  purity,  because 
Jesus  is  Priest  and  Victim,  no  crime  has  been  able  to  sully,  whose  altars 
no  persecution  has  been  able  to  destroy. 

See  that  group  seated  at  the  supper-table,  waiting  for  the  end.  For 
the  last  time  has  Jesus  offered  the  Paschal  lamb ;  that  Shadow  is  about 
to  pass  forever,  and  the  Reality  to  take  its  place.  The  disciples  have 
seen  their  Master  wash  their  feet,  and  recognized,  in  that  solemn  rite,  the 
preparation  for  something  far  holier,  a  type  of  the  purity  which  the  new 
mystery  would  demand.  Jesus  is  now  seated  in  their  midst,  He  whom 
they  know  and  love  as  their  Lord  and  their  God.  His  words  have 
prepared  them  for  some  surpassing  proof  of  affection ;  "  having  loved 
His  own  who  were  in  the  world.  He  loved  them  to  the  end."  They  have 
heard  Him  say:  "With  desire  have  I  desired  to  eat  this  Pasch  with  you 
before  I  suffer."  He  tells  them  that  this  is  the  last  time  that  He  and 
they  shall  sup  together  before  His  passing  to  His  Father.  It  is  the  hour 
for  the  last  testament  of  Jesus,  and  with  wondering  eyes  and  fluttering 
hearts  the  disciples  await  the  mystery.  It  is  like  the  pause  of  expectation, 
when  in  a  great  church  the  crowd  of  silent,  bending  worshippers  listen 
for  the  consecration  bell.  At  last  the  moment  has  come.  Jesus  takes 
bread  into  His  hands,  those  "  holy  and  venerable  hands";  He  raises  His 
eyes  to  heaven,  and  blesses  the  bread  and  breaks  it.  Then  the  disciples 
hear  their  Master,  whose  words  they  have  known  to  drive  out  devils,  to 
pardon  sinners,  to  raise  the  dead ;  whom  they  have  confessed  to  have 
the  words  of  eternal  life ;  they  hear  Him  say,  as  He  gives  them  the  bread 
broken :  "  Take  ye  and  eat.  For  this  is  my  Body  which  is  delivered  for 
you."  And  in  like  manner  they  see  Him  take  the  chalice  of  wine  into 
His  hands  with  blessing  and  with  thanks;  and  again  His  sweet  voice 
breaks  the  silence :  "  Take,  and  drink  ye  all  of  this,  for  this  is  my  Blood, 
of  the  new  testament,  which  is  shed  for  you."  Listen  to  those  ^ords, 
brethren  ;  hear  them  as  Peter,  and  John,  and  James,  and  all  that  company 
of  disciples  hear  them.  "  This  is  my  Body  which  is  broken  for  you  :  this 
is  my  Blood  which  is  shed  for  you."  Listen  to  them,  learn  them,  hide 
them  in  your  hearts,  that  you  may  rejoice  in  them  as  one  who  has  found 


324:  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

much  treasure.  For  you,  thank  God,  no  heresy  has  twisted  and  contorted 
those  words  of  Jesus,  hampered  their  meaning,  darkened  their  bright 
simplicity,  robbed  them  of  power,  solemnity,  and  truth.  Your  ears, 
thank  God,  have  never  been  assailed  by  the  strained  arguments,  the 
special  pleading,  the  ignoring  of  the  testimony  of  a  thousand  witnesses, 
the  perversion  of  centuries  of  history,  by  which  men  have  sought  to 
falsify  this  Testament  of  Jesus,  and  to  rob  us  of  His  Legacy.  I  will  not, 
therefore,  disturb  the  peace  of  your  meditation  on  these  words  to-night 
by  even  a  reference  to  sorrowful  unbelief.  I  only  ask  you  to  pray  in  pity 
for  those  who  have  been  robbed  of  the  joy  of  Holy  Thursday. 

"  This  is  my  Body,  this  is  my  Blood."  Yes,  dear  Lord,  we  believe, 
for  Thy  words  are  plain  and  full  of  power,  and  sweet  as  honey  to  our 
mouths !  We  believe  Thee  as  Thy  disciples  believed  Thee,  for  we  have 
heard  Thee  promise,  as  they  heard  Thee  promise  in  the  Synagogue  by 
the  lake  of  Galilee,  that  this  should  be.  We  remember,  as  Thy  disciples 
at  the  supper-table  remember  so  well,  the  day  Thou  didst  tell  us  of  this 
mystery  to  come.  "  The  bread  that  I  will  give  is  my  flesh  for  the  life  of 
the  world."  **  Except  ye  eat  of  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  drink 
His  blood,  ye  shall  not  have  life  in  you."  "  For  my  flesh  is  meat  indeed, 
and  my  blood  is  drink  indeed."  And,  Lord,  when  cold  hearts  found 
then,  as  others  have  found  since,  that  those  words  were  hard,  and  when 
many  went  away,  and  walked  no  more  with  Thee ;  and  when  Thou  didst 
ask,  "  Will  you  also  go  away  ? "  Peter  answered,  as  we  answer  now, 
"  Lord,  to  whom  should  we  go  but  to  Thee  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of 
eternal  life."     Yes,  Lord,  we  believe  :  help  our  unbelief  ! 

But  it  is  not  only  true  that  the  bread  and  wine  have  changed  in  the 
hands  and  by  the  words  of  Jesus  into  His  own  Body  and  Blood,  but  it  is 
also  true  that  that  Body  and  Blood  as  they  lie  there  hidden  beneath  the 
species,  are  \.x\x\y  sacrificed ;  that  the  life  of  Jesus  is  in  some  true  manner 
laid  down  at  the  supper-table.  And  so  we  pass  from  a  consideration  of 
the  reality  of  the  Presence  of  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  to  the  re- 
ality of  the  Sacrifice  of  His  Body  and  Blood,  which  is,  as  I  told  you,  the 
special  thought  of  Holy  Thursday. 

Again,  the  words  of  Jesus  are  our  light.  "This  is  my  Body,  which  is 
broketi.  This  is  my  Blood,  which  is  shed.  Do  this  in  memory  of  me." 
That  sacred  Body  which  the  Apostles  hold  in  their  hands,  and  receive  in- 
to their  breasts  this  evening,  has  not  yet  been  crucified  :  those  hands  and 
feet  have  not  yet  the  marks  of  the  nails :  that  sacred  Heart  is  still  un- 
pierced  by  the  lance :  that  sacred  blood  has  not  yet  been  emptied  from 
every  vein,  and  drunk  in  by  the  soil  of  Calvary.  And  nevertheless  Jesus 
says,  "This  is  my  Body,  which  is  broken;  my  Blood,  which  is  shed." 
Nay,  more,  He  bids  His  Apostles  "  do  this  ":  break  this  Body,  and  shed 


FATHER  RYAN.  325 

this  Blood.  Already  has  Jesus,  hasty  in  His  love,  sacrificed  His  life  upon 
that  supper-table,  anticipated  His  Crucifixion,  and  given  to  His  priests 
the  power  of  offering  that  same  sacrifice  in  memory  of  Him. 

How  is  this,  brethren?  How  is  the  life  of  Jesus  sacrificed  by  the 
words  of  consecration  ?  How  has  He,  at  that  supper-table,  made  Him- 
self a  Victim,  and  how  does  He  do  it  as  truly  now  on  the  altar  at  the 
Mass?  Let  us  ask  those  happy  disciples  who  saw  Him  on  this  evening. 
There  He  sits,  their  Master,  in  their  midst.  There  is  He  whose  presence 
has  brightened  for  them  many  a  day  of  gloom  and  doubt ;  whose  look 
of  love  has  been  their  full  compensation  for  all  that  they  have  left  to 
follow  Him,  for  all  that  they  have  suffered  to  be  near  Him;  whose 
gentle  voice  has  cheered  them  in  sorrow,  taught  them  in  their  ignorance, 
pardoned  them  in  their  sin.  And  there  are  they.  His  disciples,  gathered 
round  Him,  clinging  to  His  presence,  watching  every  look,  hanging  on 
every  word,  because  they  know — He  has  told  them — that  they  are  soon  to 
lose  Him.  It  is  in  the  fulness  of  this  His  intimate  presence  among  them 
that  He  bids  them  make  the  first  act  of  faith  in  Him,  present  in  His 
Sacrament,  present  beneath  the  broken  fragments  of  bread  which  He 
gives  into  the  hands  of  each,  present  within  the  chalice  of  which  He  bids 
them  drink.  In  this  contrast  of  His  twofold  presence  at  the  supper-table, 
His  disciples  see,  and  we  may  see,  though  it  be  dimly,  why  there  is  here  a 
sacrifice,  how  there  is  here  that  laying  down  of  the  human  life  of  Jesus, 
which  makes  the  Mass  instituted  and  offered  here  to  be  what  it  is — a  true 
and  real  Sacrifice. 

St.  John  has  been  leaning  on  the  breast  of  Jesus,  for  he  is  the  disciple 
whom  Jesus  loves.  The  purest,  holiest  friendship  that  has  ever  been — 
the  friendship  between  the  Master  and  the  disciple — to-night  receives  all 
the  tenderness  of  the  cruel  parting  now  so  near.  John  is  next  to  Jesus 
as  he  takes  from  His  hands  the  adorable  Sacrament.  With  full  faith, 
with  burning  love,  and  with  an  awe  too  great  for  words  to  tell,  he  receives 
his  hidden  Lord.  The  language  of  Jesus  has  left  him  no  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  There  in  his  hands  is  the  same  Jesus,  the  same  God,  the  same 
Friend  who  is  by  him  at  the  supper-table ;  and  because  it  is  the  same,  he 
adores  and  loves.  But  oh,  St.  John,  you  who  know  and  feel  better  than 
any  other  that  your  Love  is  the  same  beneath  those  species,  know  and 
feel  also  better  than  any  other  how  different  is  the  manner  of  His  presence 
there.  Jesus  at  your  side  you  see,  you  feel ;  you  look  into  His  eyes,  you 
are  pressed  in  His  embrace.  Jesus  in  your  hands  you  love  as  really  be- 
cause you  know  that  there  also  is  your  loving  Lord  and  God  ;  but  you 
cannot  meet  His  glance,  for  He  is  hidden,  and  you  see  but  bread ;  you 
press,  and  the  crumbs  fall  on  the  table ;  you  bear  Him  to  your  mouth, 
but  your  hands  feel  no  burden ;  you  taste  Him,  and  to  the  taste  there  is 


326  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

but  bread ;  He  enters  into  your  breast  and  is  your  food,  and  yet  no  out- 
ward change.  You  see  Peter,  James,  and  Philip,  and  they  receive  their 
Morsel,  and  Jesus  has  become  their  food.  And,  O  loving  Saint,  with 
horror  you  see  Judas,  too,  take  into  his  hands  the  God  whom  he  has  sold, 
and  receive  Him  into  a  heart  that  is  already  the  devil's  home!  Your 
Jesus  is  really  here,  but  not  as  you  have  known  Him.  You  have  known 
Him  as  you  see  Him  by  your  side,  fair  to  see,  winning  hearts  by  His 
sweet  look  and  gentle  ways :  and  here  there  is  but  the  broken  surface  of 
the  bread.  You  have  known  Him  going  in  and  out  among  men,  doing 
good  to  all,  through  Galilee,  Samaria,  and  Judea  ;  but  here,  lay  Him  down 
and  He  moves  not,  bear  Him  away  and  He  resists  not.  You  have  known 
Him  eloquent  in  speech,  and  captivating  in  familiar  intercourse,  but  here 
is  only  silence,  silence  as  of  death.  Truly,  St.  John,  you  know,  you  feel, 
that  here  in  truth  is  death.  Not  that  Jesus  is  really  dead,  for  in  your 
hands  and  in  your  breast  He  is  the  same  Jesus  who  is  living  and  by  your 
side  at  table ;  but  so  far  as  His  presence  in  this  Sacrament  goes  it  is  a 
state  of  death.  There,  at  your  side,  He  sits  in  all  His  power  and  beauty, 
the  Son  of  Man,  and  in  the  likeness  of  those  men  around  Him.  Here, 
in  your  hands.  He  is  stripped,  as  far  as  you  can  see,  of  power  and  beauty 
and  manliness :  He  lives,  but  it  is  as  if  He  lived  not ;  He  sees,  He  hears, 
He  loves,  but  it  is  through  the  veil  of  inert  material  food.  And  so,  St, 
John,  seeing  that  life  thus  mysteriously  laid  down,  seeing  this  death,  this 
living  death,  this  slaying  of  your  Lord  in  this  bloodless  sacrifice,  you  need 
no  further  vision  to  tell  us  of  the  "  Lamb,  standing  as  it  were  slain,  for 
the  salvation  of  the  peoples,"  no  fuller  revelation  to  prompt  the  loud  cry, 
"  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power,  and  divinity,  and 
wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  benediction." 

You  see,  then,  how  at  the  supper-table  on  Holy  Thursday,  as  well  as 
on  Calvary  on  Good  Friday,  on  the  altar  as  well  as  on  the  cross,  the  hu- 
man life  of  Jesus  is  laid  down  in  sacrifice.  The  manner  of  offering  is 
different — that,  at  least,  is  plain.  On  Calvary  there  is  blood-shedding  in 
very  deed,  a  life  laid  down  in  agony  and  torment,  once  and  forever,  for 
the  paying  of  man's  debt.  At  the  supper-table,  on  our  altars,  in  the 
Mass,  that  blood  is  shed  mystically,  that  life  is  laid  down  sacramentally, 
Jesus  living  in  this  death  of  love.  And  not  once,  but  often ;  at  every 
hour,  in  every  place,  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun,  is  this 
"  clean  oblation,"  this  "  acceptable  sacrifice  "  offered,  is  this  death  of  Jesus 
wrought  in  our  midst,  in  our  churches,  in  our  homes. 

Think  in  this  way  of  the  Mass,  brethren.  Think  of  it  through  life,  as 
you  have  thought  of  it  to-day,  and  you  will  love  the  Mass.  You  will 
love  it  because  you  see  in  it  the  Sacrifice  of  Love  :  because  you  see  in  it 
the  same  Priest  and  Victim  who  offered  Himself  for  you  upon  the  Cross,. 


FATHER  RYAN. 


327 


and  who  bears  even  now  on  the  altar,  in  hands  and  feet  and  side,  the 
marks  of  what  He  suffered  for  you  in  the  days  of  His  mortaHty.  And 
above  all  will  you  love  the  Mass  because  it  is  not  merely  a  record  and 
representation  of  that  great  bygone  Sacrifice,  but  because  it  is  actually, 
by  virtue  of  the  deed  done  at  the  altar,  a  present  Sacrifice,  in  which  Jesus, 
before  your  very  sight,  is  slain  and  offered  for  you,  and  you  can  see,  by 
lifting  your  eyes  to  that  pallid  Host,  the  sign  of  His  mystic  death. 

Your  love  will  be  shown  in  your  acts.  It  is  not  always  easy  to  go  to 
Mass.  Even  the  Sunday  Mass  entails,  at  times,  and  for  some  persons  al- 
most always,  considerable  inconvenience.  The  length  of  the  road,  the 
uncertain  weather,  failing  health,  awkward  hours — all  these,  at  some  time 
or  other,  make  hearing  even  a  weekly  Mass  an  act  of  self-sacrifice.  But 
do  you  not  now  see  how  well  this  may  be  made  to  fit  in  with  the  fact 
that  the  Mass  is  a  Sacrifice,  and  that  it  is  indeed  a  blessed  privilege  when 
assisting  at  the  Sacrifice  that  Jesus  makes  of  Himself  for  us,  we  are  also 
called  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  ourselves  for  Him  ?  The  half  hour  in  the 
church  is  the  time  that  He  offers  His  Body  and  Blood  for  us:  the  weary 
time  before  and  after  is  the  time  when  we  offer  our  own  bodies — sacrificing 
their  comfort  and  convenience  for  His  dear  sake.  And  with  this  sacrificial 
idea  before  us  shall  we  complain  if,  while  He  is  being  mystically  slain  up- 
on the  altar;  we  should,  in  our  own  places,  have  some  little  suffering  to 
put  up  with  ?  The  easy  attitude,  too  common  in  our  churches,  has  surely 
nothing  in  it  suggestive  of  sacrifice.  Many,  too,  can  and  do  attend  Mass 
daily.  Happy  they !  Happiest,  when  it  is  at  a  daily  sacrifice  of  their  comfort, 
of  their  morning's  rest.  What  a  welcome  from  the  Victim  at  the  altar 
awaits  these  victims  of  love !  May  that  welcome  be  yours.  May  you  so 
understand  the  Mass  as  to  know  how  to  value  the  sacrifices  you  make  to  at- 
tend it.  May  you  realize  more  and  more  that  Sacrifice  is  the  great  central 
principle  of  the  Christian  life,  as  the  altar  is  the  centre  of  the  Christian 
sanctuary,  the  Cross  the  centre  of  the  Christian  world.  May  you  ever  act 
upon  that  faith,  until  the  days  of  Sacrifice  are  over,  and  until  your  eyes, 
new-opened,  shall  see  Him  whom  you  love,  no  longer  on  a  Cross,  no 
longer  on  an  Altar,  but  in  unveiled  glory  on  His  Throne. 


THE   PRAYER   IN   THE   GARDEN. 

jINCE  Jesus  came  to  teach  us,  brethren,  not  only  by  His  human 
words,  but  also  by  His  human  deeds — words  and  deeds  of  God, 
but  spoken  and  done  by  Him  as  man — it  was  natural  that  He 
should  be  conspicuous  there  where  our  need  for  His  example 
was  greatest.  Amongst  the  very  first  duties  of  our  lives  is  that  of  prayer. 
Of  prayer,  then,  shall  we  be  sure  to  find  a  bright  example  in  the  life  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  lives  of  the  Just  are  ever  brightest  at  their  close. 
Just  as  in  a  sermon,  a  preacher  keeps  what  is  most  forcible  for  the  last — 
the  practical  part  to  which  all  his  previous  preaching  was  directed — so  in 
the  sermon-lives  of  God's  Saints,  the  lessons  they  teach  are  ever  clearest 
and  most  touching  when  the  lives  that  taught  them  are  about  to  end. 
So  was  it  with  Jesus,  the  Saint  of  Saints.  And  so  was  it  in  the  prayer- 
lesson  of  His  holy  life.  It  was  His  custom,  as  we  read,  to  pray  and  spend 
the  watches  of  the  night  in  prayer;  but  it  was  when  for  the  last  time  He 
went  according  to  that  custom  to  the  Garden  He  loved,  and  beneath  the 
olive  trees  which  had  so  often  looked  down  upon  His  prostrate,  suppliant 
form,  it  was  when  for  the  last  time  He-  came  across  the  Cedron  to  Geth- 
semani,  that  He  allowed  His  children  to  see  and  hear  Him  pray,  and  to 
learn  at  once  the  lesson  of  His  overwhelming  sorrow  and  of  His  patient 
and  prevailing  prayer. 

We  read  in  the  Gospels  that  Jesus,  after  night  had  closed  on  Holy 
Thursday,  came  with  His  disciples  over  the  brook  Cedron  into  a  country 
place — a  farm  called  Gethsemani,  where  there  was  a  garden,  into  which 
He  entered  with  them.  And  when  He  had  arrived  at  the  place,  He  said 
to  them :  "  Pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation."  And  then,  as  if  to  show 
that  He  meant  His  prayer  to  be  their  example.  He  said :  "  Sit  ye  here  till 
I  go  yonder  and  pray.  And  He  taketh  with  him  Peter,  and  James,  and 
John :  and  He  began  to  grow  sorrowful  and  to  be  sad,  to  fear  and  to  be 
heavy.  Then  He  saith  to  them :  My  soul  is  sorrowful,  even  unto  death : 
stay  you  here,  and  watch  with  me.  And  going  a  little  further — a  stone's 
cast — kneeling  down  He  fell  upon  His  face,  flat  on  the  ground,  and  He 
prayed  that,  if  it  might  be,  the  hour  might  pass  from  Him.  And  He 
(328) 


FATHER  RYAN,  329 

said :  Abba,  Father,  all  things  are  possible  to  Thee :  my  Father,  if  it  be 
possible,  if  Thou  wilt,  remove  this  chalice,  let  it  pass  from  me ;  neverthe- 
less, not  my  will  but  Thine  be  done.  And  He  cometh  to  His  disciples, 
and  findeth  them  asleep,  and  He  saith  :  What  ?  Could  ye  not  watch  one 
hour  with  me?  And  He  saith  to  Peter:  Simon,  sleepest  thou  ?  Couldst 
thou  not  watch  one  hour?  Watch  ye  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into 
temptation.  The  spirit,  indeed,  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak.  Again, 
the  second  time,  He  went  and  prayed,saying  the  same  words :  My  Father, 
if  this  chalice  may  not  pass. away,  but  I  must  drink  it,  Thy  will  be  done. 
And  returning.  He  cometh  again,  and  findeth  them  sleeping,  for  their 
eyes  were  heavy :  and  they  knew  not  what  to  answer  Him.  And  leaving 
them.  He  went  again,  and  prayed  the  third  time,  saying  the  self-same 
words.  And  there  appeared  an  angel  from  heaven,  strengthening  Him. 
And  being  in  an  agony.  He  prayed  the  longer;  and  His  sweat  became  as 
drops  of  blood,  trickling  down  upon  the  ground.  Then,  when  He  rose 
up  from  prayer,  and  was  come  for  the  third  time  to  His  disciples.  He 
found  them  sleeping  for  sorrow." 

Such  is  the  moving  picture,  given  us  in  full  detail  by  the  inspired 
writers,  of  Jesus  at  His  last  prayer  in  the  Garden.  On  those  words — I 
may  say  on  every  single  word — have  the  loving  followers  of  Jesus  pon- 
dered in  secret  meditation,  commented  in  their  writings,  and  preached  in 
their  sermons.  In  the  office  of  the  "  Prayer  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ," 
fixed  for  the  week  after  Septuagesima,  we  may  read  the  words  of  St. 
Cyprian,  St.  Anselm,  and  St.  Ambrose,  in  which  they  taught,  each  in  his 
own  day,  in  Africa,  in  England,  and  in  Italy,  the  lessons  of  that  prayer  in 
the  Garden.  Those  lessons  are  many,  and  very  various.  For  instance, 
one  of  these  holy  doctors  explains  in  what  points  the  prayer  of  Jesus  is 
different  from  the  prayers  of  ordinary  men.  This  Saint  takes  the  divine 
character  of  our  Lord's  prayer,  if  I  may  so  speak,  and  shows  us  almost 
exclusively,  in  the  various  scenes  of  His  prayer  and  agony  and  consola- 
tion, the  eternal  Son  of  God.  But  I  think  it  will  move  us  more  to-day, 
and  it  will  certainly  be  more  easy,  to  consider  rather  the  human  character 
of  this  prayer  of  Jesus,  and  in  the  prostrate  form  beneath  those  olive 
trees,  and  in  the  agonized  cry  sent  up  from  the  blood-stained  earth  into 
the  night,  to  recognize  the  form  and  the  voice  of  a  Son  of  Man. 

Indeed,  brethren,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  any  passage  in  the  life  of 
our  divine  Master  in  which  He  shows  Himself  more  truly  human,  more 
touchingly  like  us  in  the  inherent  weakness  of  our  manhood,  than  in  the 
Prayer  in  the  Garden.  It  would  seem  as  if,  in  taking  on  Him  there,  in 
an  especial  manner,  our  sinfulness,  He  allowed  our  poor  nature  also  to  be 
most  plainly  visible ;  and  as  if,  in  allowing  the  weight  of  our  sins  to  break 
His  Sacred  Heart,  He  allowed  it  also  to  reveal  to  us,  eis  we  should  never 


330  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

otherwise  have  known,  the  moving  truth  that  that  crushed  heart  was  the 
heart  of  a  fellow-man. 

For  consider  what  could  be  more  like  our  own  case  than  the  state  of 
mind  and  body  which  He  deliberately  chose  as  the  preparation  for  that 
prayer.  We  read  that  "  He  began  to  grow  sorrowful  and  to  be  sad,"  "  to 
fear  and  to  be  afraid."  Of  His  own  free  will  He  entered  into  trouble  of 
mind,  and  weariness  of  body.  Strange  preparation,  brethren,  for  prayer  I 
He  chose  it  voluntarily  because  He  knew  that  it  would  be  the  involuntary 
state  of  many  a  stricken  soul  who,  sorrowful  -and  sad  and  fearful,  would 
turn  for  strength  to  prayer,  and  seek  in  His  prayer  a  model.  Saints  have 
come,  we  know,  so  to  overcome  their  minds  and  feelings,  as  to  be  able  to 
enter  on  their  prayer  with  a  serenity  undisturbed  by  any  care  of  earth. 
They  could  say,  with  the  Psalmist :  paratus  sum,  et  non  sum  turbatus — 
"  I  am  ready,  and  I  am  not  troubled."  And  entering  thus  upon  their 
peaceful  orisons,  they  have  through  long  hours  communed  with  God,  and 
have  with  difficulty  torn  themselves  from  this  felicity  to  return  to  their 
lowlier  duties.  When  we  read  of  their  prayer,  we  may  be  tempted  to 
say :  "  Ah,  were  such  a  tranquil  mind  and  heart  mine,  I  too  could  pray : 
but  when  /  kneel  down,  my  sorrow  seems  to  grow  darker  round  me,  my 
nervous  and  uneasy  spirit  to  grow  more  restless  and  impatient  of  restraint, 
and  my  very  body  to  lose  its  strength  and  to  cry  out  for  indulgence." 
Ah,  brethren,  thanks  be  to  our  dear  Lord  for  it,  this  was  the  very  frame 
of  mind  and  body  that  Jesus  chose  when  He  knelt  down  to  teach  us  how 
to  pray.  He  took  us,  we  might  say,  at  our  worst.  Those  very  circum- 
stances which  we  look  on  as  fatal  to  recollection  in  prayer.  He  chose  of 
His  own  free  will,  that  He  might  by  descending  to  our  extremest  misery 
comfort  the  most  miserable  amongst  us,  and  teach  us  that  no  trouble  of 
mind  or  body  should  ever  turn  us  from  our  prayer. 

Yet  observe  on  the  other  hand  that  Jesus  prepared  for  His  model 
prayer,  not  only  by  voluntarily  entering  into  that  trouble  of  spirit  which 
is,  in  our  case,  beyond  our  control,  but  also  by  putting  from  Him  those 
distractions  which  we  can  put  from  us  if  we  will.  First,  He  withdrew 
from  the  larger  body  of  the  disciples,  and  with  a  chosen  three  entered  the 
sanctuary  of  the  Garden.  Here  He  withdrew  again,  "  a  stone's  cast,"  from 
His  three  companions,  remaining  thus  alone  with  His  Heavenly  Father. 
It  was  to  His  Father  that  He  had  come  to  that  lone  hill-side  to  speak: 
it  was  before  His  Father  He  was  now  about  to  plead,  with  the  eloquence 
of  human  sorrow,  for  relief :  it  was  to  His  Father's  will  that  He  was  about 
to  make  that  great  Fiat :  it  was  from  His  Father's  hand  that  He  was 
to  receive  that  hideous,  crushing  load  of  sin,  that  was  to  force  Him,  oozing 
blood,  flat  upon  the  ground.  This  was  why  Jesus  left  even  the  Prince  of 
His  Apostles,  and  the  disciple  whom  He  loved,  and  withdrew  in  the  soli- 


FATHER  RYAN.  331 

tude  of  the  night,  to  speak  with  His  Father  alone.  "  Stay  you  here,  till 
I  go  yonder  and  pray."  In  these  precautions,  as  they  would  be  on  our 
part,  Jesus  acted  again  as  man.  He  had  no  need  of  guarding  against  dis- 
tractions. The  presence  of  others  could  never  disturb  the  full  vision  of 
His  Father's  presence.  Yet  did  He  enter,  as  I  have  said,  into  our  weak- 
ness, and  act  as  though  He  feared  to  share  our  lapses  and  our  lassitude  in 
prayer.  The  very  compromise  He  seemed  to  make  with  the  human  de- 
sire for  human  sympathy  marks  the  special  character  of  this  prayer :  for, 
withdrawn  as  He  was  from  the  chosen  three.  He  yet  bade  them  watch 
with  Him:  "  Stay  you  here,  and  watch  with  me."  And  when  the  watch- 
ers failed  and  slept,  He  left  His  prayer,  and  came  to  them  (ah,  what  a 
journey  that  "stone's  cast"  must  have  been  to  the  agonizing  Saviour!); 
He  came  to  them  and  pleaded  with  them,  again  and  again,  to  "  watch  one 
hour"  with  Him.  To  feel  that  they  too  were,  like  Him,  watching  and 
praying  against  the  day  of  temptation  they  were  about  to  enter,  this 
would  have  been  a  solace  to  His  breaking  heart :  and  though  the  chalice 
His  Father  gave  Him  to  drink  was  not  to  have  even  that  drop  of  comfort 
in  it,  still  He  sought  it,  with  a  human  yearning,  and  with  His  own  weary 
hands,,  and  broken  voice,  woke  three  times  the  faithless  watchers,  and 
three  times  asked  them  not  to  desert  Him  and  leave  Him  lonely  in  His 
grief. 

Thus,  dear  brethren,  did  Jesus  in  His  preparation  for  this  last  prayer,, 
in  which  He  deigned  to  teach  us  how  to  pray,  act  most  like  a  man,  and 
surround  Himself  with  the  weakness,  the  precautions,  and  the  natural 
longings  of  frail  and  sinful  humanity.  The  sacred  prayer  itself  is,  as  the 
preparation  for  it  would  have  led  us  to  expect,  strikingly  human.  There 
is  a  great  simplicity  about  real  sorrow.  The  set  phrases  of  conventional 
mourning  are  scattered  by  the  blast  of  genuine  affliction.  Nothing  re- 
mains for  the  quivering  lips  to  utter  but  a  few  familiar  words,  said  often 
lightly  at  other  times,  but  oh,  with  what  new  meaning  now !  Scarcely 
articulate,  with  no  subtleties  of  thought  or  feeling,  the  language  of  a 
broken  heart  is  a  language  common  to  everj'  people  and  to  every  age. 
And  now  He,  who  bears  the  sorrows  of  all,  speaks  words  that  all  may 
speak,  words  utterly  human,  yet,  like  the  Sacred  Heart  from  which  they 
spring,  also  utterly  divine.  Listen  to  the  moaning  voice  that  from  the 
earth  to  which  that  face  is  pressed  sends  up  the  cry  of  suffering  humanity. 
"  Abba,  Father,  all  things  are  possible  to  Thee :  my  Father,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, if  Thou  wilt,  let  this  chalice  pass  from  me ;  nevertheless,  not  my 
will,  but  Thine  be  done."  And  again,  when  He  had  already  drunk  deep 
of  the  bitter  cup :  "  My  Father,  if  this  chalice  may  not  pass  away,  but  I 
must  drink  it.  Thy  will  be  done."  And  even  when  the  third  deep  draught 
of  sorrow  has  been  drained,  the  prayer  of  Jesus  is,  as  the  evangelist  has 


332  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

written,  "  the  self-same  word  " — the  self-same  cry  for  relief — the  self-same 
confession  that  the  chalice  is  all  too  bitter  to  lose  any  of  its  bitterness  in 
the  drinking — the  self-same,  and  oh,  how  human,  act  of  resignation — if  / 
7nust  drink  it.  Thy  will  be  done  ! 

If  I  must  suffer,  then  God's  will  be  done.  It  is  not  my  will,  indeed. 
I  would  rather  that  the  cup  of  suffering  should  pass  from  me :  I  pray 
constantly,  and  with  all  the  fervor  of  this  human  heart,  that  it  may  so 
pass,  that  I  may  be  spared  what  I  so  fear.  But  if  this  cannot  be,  if  God's 
will  be  otherwise,  if  I  must  suffer,  let  it  be.  God  knows  best.  Brethren, 
this  is  not,  you  will  say,  a  very  high  kind  of  resignation.  I  have  heard 
the  philosopher  declare  that  such  resignation  as  this  is  nothing  more  than 
making  the  best  of  a  bad  case.  I  have  heard  fainter  hearts  cry  out 
that  this,  the  only  resignation  they  can  reach  to  is,  indeed,  no  true 
resignation  at  all.  "To  be  resigned  because  I  must,  has  surely  no 
sort  of  merit.  If  I  could,  I  would  have  God's  will  otherwise;  but 
since  I  cannot  change,  then  must  I  accept.  His  will.  This  is  not 
resignation ! "  So  wails  the  sufferer.  But  (ah,  the  consolation  of  the 
thought !)  the  resignation  of  Jesus  in  His  prayer  in  the  Garden,  was  even 
this  :  "  If  I  must  drink  it.  Thy  will  be  done."  It  is  resignation,  dear  soul. 
What  was  high  enough  for  Jesus,  is  high  enough  for  you.  You  would 
have  done  with  your  ill-health,  with  your  poverty,  with  the  hardness  of 
your  lot,  with  the  injustice  of  your  persecutors,  with,  in  fact,  your  cross. 
You  pray  that  it  may  be  taken  from  you,  or  lightened,  or  sweetened. 
But  since  it  seems  this  is  not  possible,  since  God  leaves  you  no  way  to 
escape,  since  you  must  bear  it,  well,  His  Will  be  done.  In  your  better 
moments  you  may  come,  for  His  sake,  to  love  your  cross.  But  on  the 
whole  it  is  grievous  to  you  :  His  will  be  done.  Bear  it  bravely,  because 
you  must  bear  it.  Your  suffering  is  not  of  your  own  free  choice,  it  is 
true :  but  your  resignation  is.  You  choose  to  be  resigned  to  His  blessed 
Will,  though  you  know  He  has  willed  that  you  should  suffer. 

In  this  way,  brethren,  has  Jesus  taught  us,  in  the  resignation  of  His 
prayer,  a  lesson  that  lowly  human  hearts  can  understand.  It  is  a  higher 
call  to  pray  for  crosses,  to  choose  to  drink  the  cup  of  suffering  rather 
than  let  it  pass.  That  Jesus  taught  also :  but  He  teaches  us,  poor  weak 
children  of  sorrow,  the  lowlier  lesson,  as  well,  of  free  and  willing  resigna- 
tion to  what  we  pray,  at  the  same  time,  may  be  taken  from  us.  His  cry 
for  relief,  and  His  cry  of  resignation,  go  out  together  from  Gethsemani  to 
every  home  of  human  sorrow,  to  teach  the  sufferers  among  men  that  their 
unwillingness  to  suffer  is  no  sign  of  their  want  of  Christian  patience,  as 
long  as  it  is  joined,  as  it  was  in  the  prayer  of  Jesus,  with  the  willingness 
to  accept  from  their  Father's  hand  what  He  chooses  for  them,  and  what 
they  are  not  able  to  refuse.    / 


FATHER  RYAN.  333 

Such  is  the  very  human  teaching  of  our  dear  Lord  in  His  prayer  in 
the  Garden.  See  how  He  has  come  down  to  us,  to  the  level  of  our  lowly 
feelings  and  our  lowly  prayers,  and  shown  us  that  we  may  be  truly  Chris- 
tian, even  though  we  cannot  hope  to  be  ever  more  than  truly  human.  A 
higher  standard  is  not  taken  from  us :  there  is  heroism  still  left  for  the 
heroic  followers  of  Jesus :  but  in  the  lesson  we  have  been  taught  to-day 
we  have  found  the  comfort  that  the  example  of  our  Master  is  not  for 
heroes  alone,  but  reaches  even  the  weak  hearts,  the  wavering  wills,  the 
shrinking  bodies,  of  poor  mortals  like  ourselves. 

One  more  look  at  Jesus  in  the  Garden,  and  we  have  done.  "  Being  in 
an  agony,  He  prayed  the  longer ;  and  His  sweat  became  as  drops  of  blood, 
trickling  down  upon  the  ground."  He  has  not  changed  His  prayer,  now 
that  He  has  entered  on  this  fearful  struggle.  "  The  self-same  word  "  is 
still  repeated,  though  the  blood  is  now  flowing  and  the  horror  of  death  is 
on  Him — the  prayer  for  relief,  the  act  of  resignation :  it  is  as  though  He 
knew  no  other.  "And  being  in  an  agony,  He  prayed  the  longer"; 
prayed  that  the  chalice  might  pass;  prayed  that  God's  will  might  be 
done ;  prayed  amid  the  horrid  visions  of  sin  that  were  filling  His  soul 
with  fear,  amid  the  anguish  of  body  that  was  forcing  the  blood  from  His 
veins ;  prayed  the  self-same  word,  and  prayed  the  longer.  Sufferers,  re- 
member this  upon  your  bed  of  pain.  The  agony  will  take  from  you  all 
power  of  sustained  thought,  all  relish  for  even  favorite  devotions.  In 
the  stress  of  that  time  you  may  have  to  cast  away  the  very  prayers  that 
have  become  habitual.  Still  in  yobr  agony,  if  you  would  be  like  your 
Lord,  you  will  pray  the  longer.  You  will  cry  to  your  Father  for  relief, 
you  will  make  your  acts  of  resignation.  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let 
this  pass  from  me:  nevertheless,  if  I  must  suffer.  Thy  will  be  done." 
What  pain  is  there  conceivable  which,  far  from  making  that  prayer  im- 
possible, would  not  rather  intensify  its  fervor?  It  is  "  the  strong  cry  and 
tears,"  the  prevailing  prayer  of  the  agonizing.  And  we  know  that  it  did 
prevail;  for  "there  appeared  to  Him  an  angel  from  heaven,  strengthen- 
ing Him."  The  relief  was,  like  the  prayer  that  won  it,  in  human  guise. 
Strength  the  poor  manhood  of  Jesus  wanted  to  bear  up  that  weight  of 
woe,  to  prevail  in  that  awful  struggle:  strength  for  a  soul  sorrowful  unto 
death  :  strength  for  a  body  pouring  out  its  blood  upon  the  ground.  The 
sorrow  was  not  taken  away :  more  blood  had  yet  to  be  shed,  amid  even 
greater  agony ;  but  the  prayer  in  the  Garden  had  made  this  possible,  and 
had  given  to  the  soul  and  body  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows  the  endurance 
His  human  nature  needed.  In  suchwise  let  us  expect  the  answer.  Suf- 
fer we  must :  but  we  shall  be  strong  to  bear  that  suffering  if  we  only 
pray  as  Jesus  prayed.  The  angel  of  consolation  will  not  take  away  our 
cup  of  affliction ;  but  he  will  offer  us  the  cup  of  fortitude  as  well.     The 


334 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


strength  of  God  will  bear  us  up,  even  when  the  friends  of  earth  prove 
faithless.  He  will  not  sleep,  but  will  watch  with  us  while  we  suffer  and 
while  we  pray,  through  our  lifelong  struggle,  even  to  the  end.  Sweet 
Jesus,  may  we,  being  in  our  agony,  pray  the  longer,  saying  the  self-same 
words  of  trust  and  resignation  that  Thou  hast  taught  us,  and  receiving, 
as  Thou  didst  receive  in  Gethsemani,  strength  to  say,  even  amid  the  sor- 
rows of  death,  "  Thy  will  be  done  ! " 


THE  TWO  THIEVES. 

•  Amen  I  say  to  thee,  this  day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise."— Luke  xxiii.  43. 

jHESE  words  of  mercy,  dear  brethren,  like  the  first  words 
spoken  by  Jesus  on  the  Cross,  were  words  of  forgiveness  to 
sinners.  Unlike  the  first,  however,  which  were  addressed 
to  God,  these  were  spoken  to  one  of  the  two  robbers  who 
hung  on  their  crosses  beside  our  Lord.  For  we  read:  "And  with  Him 
they  crucify  two  others,  thieves,  one   on   each  side  ;  one  on  the  right 

hand,   and   one  on    the   left,   and  Jesus  in  the   midst And  the 

soldiers  mocked  Him,  coming  to  Him  and  offering  Him  vinegar,  and 
saying:  If  Thou  be  the  King  of  the  Jews,  save  Thyself.  And  the  self- 
same thing  the  thieves  also  that  were  crucified  with  Him  reproached  Him 
with  ;  and  they  reviled  Him.  And  one  of  these  robbers  who  were  hanged, 
blasphemed  Him,  saying:  If  Thou  be  Christ,  save  Thyself  and  us.  But 
the  other,  answering,  rebuked  him,  saying :  Neither  dost  thou  fear  God, 
seeing  thou  art  under  the  same  condemnation.  And  we,  indeed,  justly ; 
for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our  deeds,  but  this  Man  hath  done  no 
evil.  And  he  said  to  Jesus :  Lord,  remember  me  when  Thou  shalt  come 
into  Thy  Kingdom.  And  Jesus  said  to  him  :  Amen  I  say  to  thee,  this 
day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise." 

Now,  brethren,  it  seems  to  me  most  useful  on  this  Good  Friday  to 
recall  to  mind  the  fact,  that  here  were  two  sinners  who  were  crucified  be- 
side our  Lord,  who  saw  His  sufferings,  who  made  very  earnest  re- 
flections on  His  Passion,  but  with  such  widely  different  results  that 
one  ended  in  heaven  and  the  other  in  hell.  This  view  of  the  matter 
is,  surely,  one  that  comes  home  to  us.  For  we  are  sinners :  we  are 
actually  here  gathered  together  and  determined,  even  with  some  fatigue 
of  body,  and  at,  it  may  be,  not  a  little  inconvenience,  to  watch  Jesus  on 
His  Cross,  to  listen  to  His  words;  and  surely  we  desire  that  this  our 
watch  beside  our  Crucified  Saviour  should  end  in  penitence  and  forgiveness 
with  the  good  thief,  and  not  in  impenitence  and  reprobation  with  his  un- 
happy comrade.  Nor  can  we  deceive  ourselves,  looking  at  these  two 
•crucified  criminals,  with  the  thought  that  in  merely  coming  here  on  this 
<jood  Friday,  in  giving  up  pleasures  and  business  to  attend  this  length- 
«ened  service,  and  to  reflect  upon  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord,  we  have  there- 

(385) 


336  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

by  done  enough,  and  are  secure  of  the  grace  and  blessing  of  this  day  of 
grace.  No.  For  the  poor  wretch  whose  unhappy  soul  went  down  this 
Good  Friday  evening,  even  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross  of  Jesus  on  Calvary, 
down  to  its  everlasting  torture  in  hell,  this  poor  reprobate  had  kept  the 
three  hours'  Agony  ;  had  shared,  in  terrible  reality,  the  sufferings  of  Jesus 
crucified ;  had  heard  His  words,  and  seen  His  forgiveness,  and  watched 
His  death.  Alas  !  brethren,  shall  we  ever  know  as  much  of  the  Cross  as 
that  bad  thief  ?  shall  we  ever  suffer  as  he  suffered,  or  in  such  close  com- 
panionship with  Jesus?  And  he  was  lost,  and  before  the  night  had  fallen 
on  Calvary,  and  while  his  stiffened  and  distorted  corpse  still  hung,  limb- 
broken,  awaiting  its  robber's  grave,  his  soul  was  buried  in  hell.  And  so 
it  may  come  to  pass — oh,  it  is  not  impossible  ! — that  some  poor  sinner 
who  has  come  so  far  on  the  way  to  repentance  and  forgiveness,  who  has 
come  to  hear  these  sermons  and  to  reflect  upon  these  saving  truths,  may  go 
no  further :  may  leave  this  church  unchanged,  and  go  forth,  as  he  came 
in,  reprobate,  with  one  more  grace  neglected,  one  more  Good  Friday 
lost,  his  heart  more  hardened,  more  resolved  than  ever  not  to  seek  for- 
giveness at  the  feet  of  the  priest  of  God — further  than  ever  from  Para- 
dise, nearer  than  ever  to  hell. 

Or  if  this  be  an  extreme  case,  as  indeed  I  hope  it  is,  there  may  be 
those  who  may  lose  the  special  strength  and  light  that  God  would  give 
them  to-day  ;  who  also  may  go  out  as  they  came  in,  unchanged  by  the 
contemplation  of  their  Crucified  Lord  ;  if  no  worse,  at  least  no  better  for 
Good  Friday.  To  them,  too,  it  were  well  to  point  the  lesson  of  these 
two  strangely  contrasted  spectators  of  the  scene  on  Calvary ;  of  these 
fellows  in  crime,  fellows  in  suffering,  fellows  in  the  company  of  Jesus 
Crucified,  fellow-hearers  of  His  words  on  the  Cross,  fellow-witnesses  of 
His  death  ;  but  widely  parted  as  heaven  and  hell  in  the  fruit  they 
drew  from  all.  For  not  only  the  reprobate  sinner,  but  even  the  lukewarm 
Catholic,  may  draw  bitter,  not  sweet,  waters  out  of  the  Saviour's  foun- 
tains :  it  does  not  take  an  evil-minded  person,  but  only  a  careless  one,  to 
lose  a  very  great  and  precious  grace.  Let  us  then,  all  of  us,  sinners  as  we 
all  are,  and  whatever  be  our  life's  history  or  our  guilt  in  the  eyes  of  God 
to-day,  let  us  all  see  wherein  lay  the  difference  of  two  contemplations  of 
the  Passion  which  had  such  strangely  different  results,  in  order  that  we 
may  share  the  good  thief's  grace,  and  avoid  the  other's  reprobation. 

And  first  remark  that,  at  the  beginning,  both  thieves  joined  in  re- 
proaching and  reviling  our  Lord.  No  wonder,  indeed,  that  they  should 
see  and  feel  the  full  force  of  the  scornful  taunt — "  Himself  He  cannot 
save."  "  He  trusted  in  God,  let  Him  now  deliver  Him,  if  He  will  have 
Him  ;  for  He  said  :  I  am  the  Son  of  God."  Yes,  it  was  abitter  disappoint- 
ment for  them.     For  they  might  well  have  expected  that,  if  He  had 


FATHER  RYAN.  337 

saved  Himself,  and  had,  as  He  was  challenged  to  do,  come  down  from 
the  Cross,  He  would  also  have  saved  them  from  their  torture,  and  have 
brought  them  too  from  their  crosses.  In  the  first  shock  of  that  sad 
breakdown  of  his  last  hope,  even  the  good  thief  gave  way,  and  joined 
in  the  reproaches,  maddened,  poor  fellow,  by  the  pain  of  his  crucifixion. 
But  then  his  moment  of  grace  came  :  his  eyes  were  opened  :  he  saw  his 
Lord  and  his  God  in  the  poor  innocent  Sufferer  before  him ;  his  re- 
proaches ceased,  words  of  pity  came,  confession  of  his  own  sin,  one 
heartfelt  prayer,  and  grace  had  done  its  work.  Not  so  his  wretched  com- 
rade. He  too,  no  doubt,  recognized  the  innocence  of  Jesus :  but  what 
was  that  to  him  ?  All  he  knew  was  that  innocence  could  not  save  Him 
from  the  torture  of  the  Cross.  And  so  looking  on  the  gentle  Sufferer  he 
cursed  Him  for  His  weakness.  "  He  blasphemed  Him,  saying :  If  Thou 
be  Christ,  save  Thyself  and  us."  It  was  no  prayer  for  salvation — that 
might  have  been  answered :  it  was  a  mere  infidel's  jibe.  If  Thou  be 
Christ — a  likely  story !  And  so  the  unbeliever's  prayer — the  Holy  Ghost 
has  called  it  a  blasphemy — is  the  last  sin  of  this  sad  life,  and  he  dies  re- 
jecting salvation  on  the  very  day  of  salvation,  and  passes  from  the  fiery 
torments  of  the  cross  into  the  fire  of  hell.  O  Saviour,  grant  us  faith  in 
Thee  as  we  now  gaze  upon  Thee  Crucified  ;  trust  in  Thee  to  save  even  the 
most  hardened  sinner  amongst  us — for  we  know  Thou  art  Christ,  and 
canst  save  us,  if  only  we  will  be  saved. 

The  other  thief  knew  this,  and  acted  on  his  knowledge.  He  willed  to 
be  saved,  and  he  was  saved.  Let  us  see  how  ;  for  surely  it  is  just  what 
we  should  strive  to  see.  When  the  moment  came,  and  his  eyes  were 
opened,  and  he  recognized  in  Jesus  his  Saviour,  he  at  once  spoke,  and 
his  words  are  full  of  instruction,  and  show  the  history  of  his  conversion. 
For  it  has  a  history,  though  it  was  so  rapid,  and  it  is  the  history  of  every 
true  change  of  heart.  First  came  that  interior  faith  which  made  him 
separate  himself  from  the  scoffers,  and  rebuke  his  fellow-robber  for  his 
unbelief.  Then,  springing  from  that  faith,  came  fear  of  God.  "  And  dost 
not  thou  fear  God,"  he  asks,  "seeing  that  thou  art  under  the  same  con- 
demnation ?  "  Then  came  the  humble  confession  of  his  sinfulness,  and 
his  willing  acceptance  of  his  awful  punishment.  "  And  we,  indeed,  are 
condemned  justly ;  for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our  deeds."  Surely, 
an  honest  confession  for  one  nailed  to  a  cross ;  a  generous  acknowledg- 
ment of  heavy  guilt  that  could  merit  such  heavy  expiation !  Thirdly,  he 
expresses  compassion  for  his  innocent  Saviour :  "  But  this  man  hath  done 
no  evil."  Ah,  how  those  words  must  have  gone  to  the  Heart  of  the  Di- 
vine Sufferer :  how  they  rnust  have  moved  the  sorrowing  Mother  that 
heard  them — the  compassion  of  that  agonizing  thief  upon  his  cross !  And 
now  the  time  has  come,  and  the  last  earnest  prayer  of  a  generous  soul, 


338  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

full  of  faith,  is  heard  above  the  taunts  and  mockery  of  the  crowd :  "  And 
he  said  to  Jesus :  Lord,  remember  me  when  Thou  shalt  come  into  Thy 
Kingdom."  He  asks  for  a  memento,  and,  God  be  praised  !  he  hears  the 
gentle  voice — the  voice  of  absolution  from  the  past,  of  hope  beyond  his 
wildest  expectation  for  the  future,  the  sentence,  even  before  his  death,  of 
his  merciful  Judge — "Amen  I  say  to  thee,  this  day  thou  shalt  be  with 
me  in  Paradise.""  This  day — this  Good  Friday — before  nightfall ;  and  in 
Paradise,  with  his  Saviour !  Ah,  how  lightly  he  hangs  upon  his  cross 
now :  how  his  poor  heart  goes  out  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  his  Jesus !  how 
lovingly  and  compassionately  he  watches  from  his  cross  the  pain  and 
humiliation  of  the  Innocent  One!  With  what  awe,  yet  with  what  unut- 
terable hope  he  hears  His  death-cry,  and  sees  His  sacred  Head  sink  for- 
ward as  He  gives  up  the  ghost !  He  himself  still  lingers  on  ;  the  gather- 
ing film  of  death  does  not  prevent  his  eyes  from  resting  on  the  sacred 
Body  of  his  Saviour.  And  so  he  hangs,  with  the  great  Crucifix  beside  him, 
until  the  soldiers  come  and  put  an  end  to  his  sufferings,  and  dispatch 
him  to  his  reward  with  Jesus  in  Paradise.  Happy  soul !  happy  penitent ! 
Happy  road  that  led  so  quickly,  and,  even  amid  much  bodily  torture,  so 
easily,  from  faith  to  fear,  from  fear  to  contrite  confession,  from  confession 
to  compassion,  from  compassion  to  one  earnest  prayer,  and  through  that 
prayer  to  Paradise  !  Where  is  the  sinner  who  may  not  travel  that  road  ? 
Sweet  Saviour,  grant  that  there  be  no  such  impenitent  sinner  here! 

Dearly  beloved,  we  have  now  before  us  a  bright  example  for  our  re- 
flections on  the  Passion  this  Good  Friday.  We  have  the  terrible  example 
of  the  miserable  soul  that  saw  indeed  the  Cross  and  the  Saviour  on  it, 
but  that  saw  with  a  hardened  and  unmoved  heart,  and  rejected  the  salva- 
tion that  was  offered  him.  And  we  have  the  consoling  and  encouraging 
example  of  the  happy  soul  whom  Good  Friday  morning  found  a  sinner, 
but  Good  Friday  evening  a  saint.  He  saw  his  God  upon  a  Cross,  and 
made  his  act  of  faith  in  Him.  He  recognized  the  terrors  of  His  judg- 
ments, and  made  his  act  of  fear  of  Him.  He  saw  his  own  sinful  life,  and 
sorrowed  for  it  and  confessed  it.  He  watched  the  patient  agony  of  the 
innocent  Jesus,  and  compassionated  Him.  And  finally  he  poured  out  his 
whole  heart  in  that  one  trustful  prayer — "  Lord,  remember  me !  "  And 
he  saved  his  soul.  There  is  not  one  here  who  may  not  do  the  same.  Oh, 
if  there  be  one  soul  that  is  now  wavering — that  will  and  will  not  be  saved 
— that  dreads  the  very  grace  and  mercy  of  this  Good  Day — I  ask  that 
soul  just  to  wait  and  watch  by  the  Cross  now ;  to  make  an  act  of  faith, 
an  act  of  fear :  to  review  the  sinful  past  in  sorrow  of  heart :  to  look  with 
compassion  at  that  Saviour  on  the  Cross,  and  to  send  up  to  Him,  into 
His  loving  Heart,  the  one  earnest  cry — "  Lord,  remember  me  !  "  Oh,  do 
this,  weak  waverer,  and  you  will  find  strength  to  make  a  new  thing  of 


FATHER  RYAN. 


839 


your  poor  life  ;  do  this,  and  your  confession  will  come  easy  to  you  ;  and 
as  the  torments  of  the  Cross  vanished  for  that  penitent  thief,  so  will  the 
difficulties  you  dread,  in  your  conversion  disappear,  and  what  seemed  to 
you  to  be  chains  that  no  power  could  break  will  burst  like  threads  before 
the  strong  grace  of  God.  O  brethren,  pray  that  this  day  all  poor  sinners, 
if  there  be  any  here,  if  there  be  any  whom  you  love,  who  are  bound  by 
the  ropes  of  their  lifelong  sin,  that  all  may  now  burst  their  bonds  asun- 
der ;  that  if  there  be  any  who  fear  the  confession  of  their  sins — who  can- 
not bring  themselves  to  say  that  past  confessions  and  past  communions 
have  been  bad — that  they  may  in  this  day  of  Grace  find  grace  honestly 
to  do  so ;  that  as  happy  penitents  they  may  hear  in  the  absolution  of  the 
priest  the  echo  of  this  word  of  mercy  and  forgiveness  on  the  Cross : 
"Amen  I  say  to  thee,  this  day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise."  Jesus 
and  Mary  help  them ! 


i&^dt-.^^^^^^  W^ '. 

THE  RESURRECTION. 

(low  SUNDAY.) 

|HE  week  we  have  just  passed,  dear  brethren,  has  been  one  of 
much  joy  to  the  Church  of  God.  It  has  been  for  her  as  bright 
and  glad  as  the  week  before  was  gloomy  and  distressing.  It 
would  not  be  possible  to  find  in  the  Calendar  two  weeks  more 
strongly  contrasted  than  Holy  Week  and  Easter  Week.  And  the  reason 
of  this  you  know.  It  lies  in  the  facts  commemorated.  Nothing  could 
have  been  sadder  to  the  Spouse  of  Christ  than  His  sufferings,  His  death, 
and  His  burial :  nothing  more  joyful  than  His  Resurrection  from  the 
tomb,  a  Victor  King  triumphant  over  suffering  and  death.  And  this 
Easter  joy,  like  all  other  joy,  gains  in  intensity  by  the  contrasting  sorrow. 
Those  who  spend,  as  many  outside  the  Church  do  spend,  the  days  of 
Holy  Week  in  festivity,  looking  rather  to  man's  liberation  than  to  the 
Passion  of  Jesus,  cannot  taste  the  full  Jubilee  of  the  Catholic  Eastertide, 
and  do  not,  certainly,  feel  as  the  Mother  and  the  friends  of  Jesus  felt 
when  He  whom  they  had  seen  crucified,  dead,  and  buried,  appeared  to 
them  again,  risen  glorious  and  immortal.  Let  us  now,  on  this  the  octaVe 
day  of  our  Paschal  joy,  see  calmly,  as  perhaps  we  could  not  see  before, 
the  full  reason  and  extent  of  our  Easter  gladness. 

And  first,  as  I  said,  we  must  realize  what  had  been  our  loss.  It  is 
not  easy,  so  used  are  we  to  the  thought  of  Jesus  risen  from  the  dead,  to 
enter,  as  the  poor  Apostles  entered,  into  the  utter  bereavement  of  Holy 
Saturday.  But  a  week  before,  and  how  high  their  hopes  had  been ! 
"  We  hoped  that  it  was  He  that  should  have  redeemed  Israel,"  said  the 
two  disciples  on  the  way  to  Emmaus.  How  utterly  that  hope  seemed 
crushed  !  "  Our  chief  priests  and  princes  delivered  Him  to  be  condemned 
to  death,  and  crucified  Him  ....  and  besides  all  this,  to-day  is  the  third 
day  since  these  things  were  done."  "Art  thou  only  a  stranger  in  Jeru- 
salem, and  hast  not  known  the  things  that  have  been  done  there  in  these 
days?"  Observe,  moreover,  brethren,  the  fact  pointed  to  in  these  last 
words,  namely,  that  the  crucifixion,  death,  and  burial  of  Jesus  were  as 
public  as  it  was  possible  for  them  to  be,  and  were  also  actually  proved  by 
many  witnesses.  The  place  of  crucifixion  was  "  nigh  to  the  city."  He 
went  thither  "in  His  own  garments";  His  name  and  title,  "written  in 
(340) 


FA  THER  R  VAN.  341 

Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin,"  they  "  put  over  His  head  upon  the  Cross," 
so  that  "  many  of  the  Jews  did  read,"  as  well  as  the  Greeks  and  Romans. 
The  cruel  exposure  of  His  Sacred  Body  made  all  deception  impossible ; 
and  the  very  mockers,  who  passed,  wagging  their  heads  in  scorn,  gave 
unwitting  testimony  that  it  was  Jesus  of  Nazareth  that  was  crucified. 

As  His  crucifixion  was  beyond  all  doubt,  so  also  were  His  death  and 
burial.  We  read  that  the  soldiers  "  sat  and  watched  Him  ";  and  that  when 
crying  out  with  a  loud  voice,  announcing  to  all  His  own  death.  He  gave  up 
the  ghost,  "  the  centurion  and  they  that  were  with  him  watching  Jesus  " 
saw  and  proclaimed  the  fact.  "  And  all  the  multitude  of  them  that  were 
come  together  to  that  sight,  and  saw  the  things  that  were  done,  returned, 
striking  their  breasts."  No  evidence  could  be  stronger,  no  death  more 
patent.  The  very  earth  gave  its  shuddering  avowal.  And  the  greatest 
witness  in  nature  was  not  wanting.  Ninety  millions  of  miles  away  from 
Calvary,  the  darkened  sun  declared  that  his  Maker  it  was  that  was  there 
suffering  and  dying ;  and  the  stars  that  shone  out  in  that  noonday  eclipse 
looked  on  as  witnesses  from  on  high.  But  even  this  would  seem  insufficient 
were  there  not  official  record  of  the  death  of  Jesus.  And  so  the  soldiers 
came  from  Pilate,  and,  having  broken  the  legs  of  the  two  robbers,  "  after 
they  were  come  to  Jesus,  when  they  saw  that  He  was  already  dead,  did 
not  break  His  legs.  But  (as  it  were  to  make  assurance  of  His  death 
doubly  sure),  one  of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear  opened  His  side,  and  imme- 
diately there  came  out  blood  and  water,  and  he  that  saw  it  hath  given 
testimony:  and  his  testimony  is  true.  And  he  knoweth  that  he  saith 
true :  that  you  also  may  believe," — believe,  that  is,  that  He  was  truly 
dead,  and  pierced  to  the  heart  upon  the  Cross.  Moreover,  Pilate,  doubt- 
ing as  to  the  death  of  Jesus,  sent  for  the  centurion,  and  asked  and 
received  his  testimony  as  the  official  witness  of  His  death.  Overwhelm- 
ing evidence  this  certainly  was  of  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  His 
burial  was  as  open.  It  was,  in  a  way,  official.  For  the  Governor's  per- 
mission was  asked,  and,  after  due  and  formal  evidence,  granted,  to  take 
down  the  Body  of  Jesus  and  bury  it.  Joseph  of  Arimathea  was  a  man 
of  wealth  and  position,  and  did  his  work  now  openly  and  boldly.  The 
four  Evangelists  tell  of  his  reverent  preparations  for  the  burial  of  Jesus — 
of  his  buying  fine  linen,  of  his  new  tomb,  hewn  out  of  the  rock  in  a 
garden  hard-by  Calvary.  And  St.  John  tells  us  of  Nicodemus,  too, 
whose  wealth  was  a  tradition  among  the  Jews,  and  whose  offering  of  one 
hundred  pounds*  weight  of  myrrh  and  aloes  was  greater  than  had  ever 
been  made  even  at  the  burial  of  kings.  At  great  expense,  then,  and  with 
all  the  rites  usual  in  Jewish  burial,  was  the  Body  consigned  to  the  tomb,  on 
the  eve  of  the  great  Festival,  in  view  of  the  gathered  multitudes :  and  the 
gravestone,  which,  we  read,  was  "  very  great,"  was  rolled  to  the  door 


342  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

of  the  monument.  Again,  as  in  the  case  of  His  death,  was  the  burial  of 
Jesus  officially  notified  to  the  Roman  Governor.  The  chief  priests  and 
Pharisees  demanded  his  official  guard  of  the  tomb,  and  lest  this  should 
not  be  precaution  enough,  they  closed  the  tomb  with  their  official  seal. 

Dear  brethren,  can  we  see  any  sufficient  reason  for  all  this  evidence, 
official  and  other,  that  Jesus  Christ  was,  as  our  Creed  tells  us,  "  crucified, 
dead,  and  buried  "  ?  I  think  it  is  easy  to  see  the  reason  why  the  Holy  Ghost 
has  been  thus  explicit  on  this  point.  Consider,  then,  the  immense  difficulties 
that  would  surround  such  a  fact  as  the  resurrection  of  a  dead  man.  How 
many  would,  in  the  first  place,  refuse  to  believe  that  he  had  died  at  all. 
How  they  would  say  that  his  friends  had  been  deceived  by  a  mere  feigned 
death,  or  by  a  stupor  that  looked  like  death,  or  by  their  own  terror,  or  by 
their  assumption  that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  he  would  have  died  neces- 
sarily under  such  treatment.  The  fact  of  his  being  alive  once  proved  ta 
them,  men  would  want  evidence  of  the  most  extraordinary  kind  to  con- 
vince them  that  there  had  ever  been  a  true  and  real  death ;  and  they 
would  seek  in  a  thousand  directions  for  a  way  to  throw  doubt  upon  the 
proofs.  And  above  all  would  they  so  strive,  were  this  resurrection  brought 
as  a  seal  upon  doctrine  that  they  detested,  and  on  a  life  that  they  had 
destroyed.  But  such  was  the  case.  And  hence  the  vast  importance  of 
this  great  body  of  evidence  brought  by  the  four  Evangelists  to  prove  the 
public  Crucifixion,  the  unmistakable  death  and  burial  of  Jesus  Christ.^ 
For  if  He  did  not  die  and  was  not  buried,  He  could  not  rise  again  from 
the  dead  ;  and,  as  St.  Paul  says,  "  if  Christ  be  not  risen  again,  then  is  our 
preaching  vain,  and  your  faith  also  is  vain." 

And  now,  dear  brethren,  that  we  have  seen,  at  such  length,  the  evi- 
dence of  His  crucifixion,  death,  and  burial,  let  us  turn  to  the  evidence 
that  He  "  rose  again,  the  third  day,  from  the  dead."  That  evidence  is 
more  familiar  to  you,  and  we  need  not  delay  so  long  over  it.  There  is 
this  difference  in  the  nature  of  the  evidence,  and  it  is  a  difference  that  we 
should  expect.  His  death  was  at  the  hands  of  sinners,  and  was  proved, 
beyond  yea  or  nay,  to  them.  Pilate,  the  chief  priests,  the  Pharisees,  the 
centurion,  the  soldiers,  the  crowds — all  saw  and  owned  that  He  was  cru- 
cified, dead,  and  buried.  All  these  were  offered  also  sufficient  evidence^ 
had  they  received  it,  of  His  Resurrection :  but  it  was  to  the  believers  in 
Jesus,  to  His  Mother,  His  friends,  His  Apostles  and  disciples  that  He 
made  it  convincingly  manifest.  Preaching  to  the  Jews  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost,  St.  Peter  said :  "  This  Jesus  hath  God  raised  again,  whereof 
we  are  witnesses."  And  again  :  "  The  Author  of  Life  you  killed,  whom 
God  hath  raised  from  the  dead,  of  which  we  are  witnesses."  And  preach- 
ing in  Caesarea,  the  same  Apostle  said :  "  Him  God  raised  up  the  third 
day,  and  gave  Him  to  be  made  manifest,  not  to  all  the  people,  but  to 


FA  THER  R  VAN.  343 

witnesses  preordained  by  God,  even  to  us  who  did  eat  and  drink  with 
Him  after  He  rose  again  from  the  dead."  The  evidence,  then,  of  His 
Resurrection  was  clear  and  beyond  doubt:  but  it  was  to  be  the  founda- 
tion of  our  Faith,  and  so  was  revealed  to  the  children  of  Faith,  and  by 
them  preached  to  the  children  of  unbelief. 

I  have  said  that  the  evidence  given  to  the  Jews  was  sufficient  to  prove 
our  Lord's  Resurrection.  The  witnesses  were,  again,  official — the  sol- 
diers on  guard  at  the  sepulchre.  They  had  felt  the  earth  quake  ;  for  this 
evidence  the  earth  gave  of  His  Resurrection,  as  it  had  done  of  His  death, 
then  in  shuddering  horror,  7iow  in  an  outburst  of  exultant  joy;  they  had 
seen  the  flashing  form  of  the  Angel  of  the  Resurrection  in  his  snow-white 
raiment,  and,  recovering  from  their  terror,  some  of  them  had  fled  into  the 
city  to  tell  the  priests  what  had  taken  place.  That  these  priests  gave 
some  sort  of  frightened  credit  to  their  tale  is  shown  by  the  "  great  sum  of 
money  "  that  they  gave  to  purchase  the  soldiers'  silence.  But  this  very 
fact  was  itself  the  strongest  indirect-  evidence ;  and  St.  Matthew  tells  us 
how  "  the  word  was  spread  abroad  "  that  hush-money  had  been  given  by 
the  priests  and  taken  by  the  guards. 

However,  as  we  have  seen,  the  great  mass  of  evidence  regarding  our 
Lord's  Resurrection  from  the  dead  was  given  to  His  friends  and  not  to 
His  enemies.  So  it  had  ever  been.  And  though  the  fact  of  our  Lord's 
burial  and  Resurrection — "  The  sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonas  " — was  said  by 
Jesus  to  be  an  exception,  and  was  to  be  a  sign  to  the  "  evil  and  adulter- 
ous generation,"  still  it  was  a  sign  to  be  contradicted  ;  and  it  was  to  be 
understood  and  accepted  only  by  His  chosen  ones,  who  were  to  receive 
ample  evidence  of  it,  without  at  the  same  time  being  deprived,  in  that 
evidence,  of  a  salutary  trial  and  confirmation  of  their  faith.  Their  accept- 
ance, or  rather  their  understanding  of  that  evidence,  if  it  was  in  the  end 
sure,  was  certainly,  in  the  beginning,  slow.  It  is  impossible  to  read  the 
Gospel  accounts  of  the  Resurrection,  and  of  our  Lord's  manifestations  of 
Himself  to  His  Apostles  and  disciples,  without  wondering  at  their  slow- 
ness of  belief.  He  Himself  rebuked  them  for  this,  but  chose  to  remove 
their  doubts  little  by  little.  At  first  the  news  brought  by  Mary  Magda- 
len and  the  other  women  to  the  Apostles  was  regarded  by  them  "  as  idle 
tales :  and  they  did  not  believe  them."  When  the  two  disciples  returned 
from  Emmaus  and  told  the  others  how  they  had  supped  with  Jesus,  St. 
Mark  tells  us  that  they  were  not  believed.  And  even  when  Jesus  appeared 
in  their  midst,  as  of  old,  and  when  they  heard  His  well-known  voice  bid- 
ding them  "  fear  not,"  still  "  they  were  troubled  and  afTrighted,  and  they 
believed  that  they  saw  a  spirit."  "  But  no  incredulity  could  stand  long  in 
hearts  that  burned  in  the  presence  and  at  the  words  of  the  beloved 
Master.     Nor  did  He  wish  to  prolong  the  hour  of  trial.     The  wonder  of 


344  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

fear  gave  way  to  the  wonder  of  joy  that  He  whom  they  had  seen  cruci- 
fied, and  over  whose  death  and  burial  they  had  shed  such  bitter  and 
hopeless  tears,  should  be  with  them  once  again,  fitfully  indeed,  coming 
and  going  in  a  way  new  to  them,  but  still  His  old  dear  Self,  with  His  gentle 
presence,  and  comforting  voice.  "  Touch  me  not,"  He  said  at  first :  but 
soon  He  was  to  say,  "  see  my  hands  and  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself.  Handle, 
and  see."  And  so  the  evidence  grew,  and  when  the  disciples  had  left  the 
false  and  unbelieving  Jerusalem,  and  had  gone  into  the  quiet  Galilean 
scenes  of  former  happy  days,  Jesus  revealed  Himself  to  His  chosen  ones, 
speaking  with  them  and  eating  with  them  ;  and,  at  least  on  one  occasion. 
He  appeared  to  as  many  as  five  hundred  disciples  at  the  same  time. 
Thus,  in  the  words  of  St.  Luke,  "did  Jesus  show  Himself  alive,  after  His 
Passion,  by  many  proofs,  for  forty  days  appearing  to  them,  and  speaking  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God,  and  eating  together  with  them."  In  this  wise,  with 
the  slow  growth  of  a  Faith  that  was  to  last,  did  those  Apostles  become  wit- 
nesses to  their  risen  Lord  "  in  Jerusalem,  and  in  all  Judea,  and  Samaria, 
and  even  to  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth  ";  thus  gradually  was  built 
up  that  strong  Christian  belief  in  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  which 
has  stood  unscathed  against  the  persecution  and  the  infidelity  of  every 
age. 

Dear  brethren,  it  will  be  of  little  account  to  us  to  have  thus  recalled 
the  evidences  of  our  faith  in  the  Death  and  in  the  Resurrection  of  our 
Lord,  unless  we  quicken  that  faith  into  action.  Faith  in  the  Resur- 
rection, without  works,  is  dead.  What,  then,  shall  we  do,  as  the  result  of 
these  Easter  thoughts?  The  Apostle  bids  us  "walk  in  newness  of  life," 
as  Christ  is  risen  from  the  dead :  and  also  to  "  serve  in  newness  of  spirit." 
Now,  that  means  rather  a  change  in  our  way  of  doing  our  actions  than  a 
change  of  the  actions  themselves.  It  rtieans  that  the  life  and  spirit  we 
should  now  throw  into  our  daily  duties  should  be  new,  and  that  the  aim 
of  those  actions  should  be  also  renovated.  "  If  you  be  risen  with  Christ, 
seek  the  things  that  are  above  .....  mind  the  things  that  are  above,  not 
the  things  that  are  upon  the  earth."  There  is  one  part  of  our  life  that 
will  undergo  a  very  great  change  if  we  only  take  to  heart  the  lesson  of 
Easter.  It  is  that  part  which  is  occupied  with  the  thoughts,  the  antici- 
pations, the  fears  of  death.  As  Jesus  triumphed  over  death,  so  shall  we 
if  we  be  true  to  Him.  The  gloomy  grave  is  before  each  one  of  us ;  but 
we  remember  now  that  Jesus  was  also  laid  into  that  gloom ;  and,  as  His 
grave  was  found  on  Easter  morning  ennpty,  so  shall  ours  be  sometime 
found.  "  He  is  not  here,  he  has  risen,"  will  one  day  be  true  of  every 
grave.  The  burial  was  not  the  end  with  Jesus,  nor  will  it  be  the  end 
with  us.  True,  nothing  seems  to  us  more  absolutely  final  than  the  sound 
of  earth  falling  on  the  coflfin  lid,  than  the  mound  fresh  sodded  overhead. 


FATHER  RYAN. 


345 


But  our  Easter  faith  tells  us  that  such  is  not  the  case.  The  grain  of 
wheat  is  buried,  but  it  will  spring  up  afresh ;  and,  as  Jesus  Himself 
reminds  us,  unless  it  be  buried  it  cannot  be  so  renewed.  For  children  of 
Faith  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  hope  of  death,  not  the  feverish  longing  to 
be  rid,  even  thus,  of  pressing  evil,  but  the  calm  desire  of  that  journey- 
that  is  to  take  us  home.  It  was  to  give  us  this  tranquillity  in  death  that 
Jesus  became  a  partaker  of  our  flesh  and  blood,  and  died  in  the  same, 
"that,  through  death.  He  might  destroy  him  who  had  the  empire  of 
death,  and  might  deliver  them,  that,  through  fear  of  death,  were  all  their 
lifetime  subject  to  servitude."  O  blessed  delivery!  Happy  we  if  we  are 
this  day  freed  from  the  servitude  of  the  fear  of  death  !  Happy  we  if,  by 
meditating  as  we  have  done  on  the  death  of  Jesus  and  His  Resurrection, 
we  come  to  lay  aside  our  fear  of  the  one  and  live  in  the  hope  of  the 
other !  Happy,  if  we  can  banish  forever  the  vain  tef rors  of  the  tomb, 
and  see  there,  clearly  and  more  clearly  as  our  end  approaches,  not  the 
haunting  horror  of  ghost  and  demon,  but  with  radiant  face,  and  snowy 
garb,  and  hand  uplifted  in  hope,  the  Angel  of  the  Resurrection  ! 


JUDGMENT  AND  MERCY. 

jN  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  we  read  how  a. 
poor  sinful  woman,  whose  sin  was  established  beyond  doubt, 
was  brought  to  Jesus  by  the  Pharisees,  her  enemies  and  His, 
in  order  that  they  might  force  Him  either  to  condemn  her, 
and  so  lose  His  character  for  clemency,  or  acquit  her,  and  so  lose  His^ 
character  for  sanctity  and  justice.  Jesus,  seeing  the  charge  of  horrible* 
and  publicly  known  sin  established  against  the  unhappy  woman,  stooped 
down,  and  wrote  in  the  dust  on  the  pavement  of  the  Temple.  This  was, 
as  many  say,  to  show  that  our  sins  are  written  by  God  as  it  were  on  dust ; 
for  as  such  writing  remains  only  as  long  as  it  is  not  blown  or  wiped 
away,  so  our  sins  are  remembered  by  God  against  us  only  as  long  as  we 
neglect  by  prayer  and  penance  to  blot  them  from  His  memory.  Jesus 
rose,  after  writing  thus  upon  the  dust,  and  pronounced  the  sentence  He 
was  called  on  to  pronounce :  She  deserves  to  be  stoned,  indeed ;  but  "  he 
that  is  without  sin  among  you  let  him  cast  the  first  stone."  Again  He 
stooped  and  wrote  upon  the  ground,  and  when  He  rose  up  from  writing, 
lo !  the  Pharisees  had  slunk  away.  They  had  called  for  a  sentence,  and 
the  sentence  had  been  delivered  against  themselves.  Their  hypocrisy, 
their  sham,  outward  sanctity,  their  interior  defilement — this  had  Jesus 
condemned,  and  they,  now  turned  criminals,  had  gone  away  abashed, 
and  left  the  poor  adulteress  alone  with  Jesus.  It  is,  as  St.  Augustine  has 
beautifully  said,  "  the  Sinner  left  alone  with  the  Saviour,  the  sick  woman 
with  her  physician,  the  miserable  with  the  merciful."  "  Woman,  hath  no 
man  condemned  thee?"  "No  man.  Lord."  "  Neither  will  I  condemn 
thee.     Go,  and  now  sin  no  more." 

Brethren,  is  not  this  a  touching  scene  ?  See,  side  by  side,  the  bitter 
condemnation  by  sinful  men  of  a  fellow  sinner,  and  the  gentle,  compas- 
sionate forgiveness  by  Him  who  came  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was 
lost.  When  we  think  on  this  story,  we  are  moved  to  love  Jesus,  moved 
to  trust  in  His  full  mercy ;  and  moved,  moreover,  to  shun  all  harsh  and 
unmerciful  condemnation  even  of  those  whom  we  know  for  a  certainty  to 
be  grievous  sinners.  But  we  may,  perhaps,  wonder  whether,  after  all, 
such  mercy  and  forgiveness  would  suit  us  as  well  as  it  suited  Jesus. 
Could  we,  with  justice,  be  thus  tender  toward  those  who  have  grievously 
and  openly  sinned  ?  Would  not  such  conduct  only  encourage  the  sinner 
(346) 


FATHER  RYAN.  34t 

in  sin,  by  showing  how  easy  is  forgiveness  ?  Surely  "  I  will  not  condemn 
thee.  Go,  and  now  sin  no  more  "  is  a  sentence  worthy  of  God :  but 
should  it  be  ever  the  sentence  of  a  man  called  on  to  judge  a  fellow  man  ? 

Dear  brethren,  why  do  we  condemn  sin  ?  Is  it  not  to  save  the  sinner? 
Vengeance  on  sin,  that  is  God's.  "  Vengeance  is  mine,  saith'  the  Lord." 
Correction  is  ours,  but  not  vengeance.  And  how  shall  we  best  correct  ? 
Is  it  by  fear  or  love?  Is  it  by  harshness  or  mercy?  Is  it  by  stoning  the 
sinner,  as  the  Pharisees  would  do,  or  by  forgiving  and  advising,  as  Jesus 
did?  Let  us  consult  our  own  experience,  and  ask  which  is  the  more 
likely  way  to  move  sinners  to  sorrow  for  sin,  and  amendment  of  life : 
which  has  had  the  greater  effect  on  our  own  lives,  the  threats  and  thun- 
ders of  God's  justice,  or  the  pleadings  of  His  mercy:  the  stormy 
reproaches  and  chastisements  of  our  fellow-men,  or  the  gentle,  loving,^ 
forgiving  reproof  of  those  who  share  in  the  mercy  and  sweetness  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus  ? 

Surely  in  asking  such  questions  I  answer  them,  or  rather,  your  own 
hearts  answer  them.  Fear  and  punishment  may  terrify  the  sinner,  may 
crush  him,  and  at  times  bring  him  to  realize  his  guilt ;  but  it  takes  love 
and  mercy  to  bring  him  to  sorrow  and  amendment.  We  know  how 
many  a  time  a  harsh  rebuke  has  made  us  harden  our  hearts  like  steel 
against  the  truth,  and  has  even  driven  us  on,  with  fresh  impetuosity,  in 
the  ways  of  sin.  But  a  kind  word,  a  tear  shed  over  our  misery,  the 
pleading  yet  reproachful  look  of  one  who  hates  our  sin,  but  loves  ourselves 
— ah,  this  it  is  that  has  broken  our  proud  spirits,  and  bent  our  stubborn 
knee,  and  brought  us  full  of  sorrow  and  full  of  love  to  the  sacrament  of 
forgiveness — back  to  the  grace  and  light  and  peace  of  God. 

Dear  friends,  we  know  this  well.  But  do  we  act  as  if  we  knew  ?  Is  it 
thus  we  deal  with  sinners  ?  When  we  are  most  anxious  to  turn  a  friend 
from  his  evil  courses,  from  his  intemperance,  from  his  dissipation,  from 
his  careless  life,  is  it  thus  we  act  ?  Do  we  go  to  him  in  anger  or  in  love  ? 
Do  we  harden  our  hearts  toward  him,  or  soften  them  with  prayer  and 
compassion  ?  Is  our  language  like  the  soft  voice  of  Jesus  saying,  "  Come 
to  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavily  burdened,"  or  like  the  terrific, 
"  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed  ":  is  it  an  invitation  to  forgiveness  and  hope 
or  a  condemnation  to  punishment  and  despair?  We  have  ourselves 
sinned :  we  have  ourselves  heard  the  call  of  love,  and  found  mercy  where 
we  dreaded  justice ;  and  now  we  deal  with  others  as  though  we  never 
heard  of  Jesus,  or  of  His  gentle  Heart,  or  of  His  wish  to  seek  and  save,, 
or  of  His  unwillingness  that  any  should  perish.  We  act  as  if  the  Phari- 
sees were  our  models,  and  Jesus,  and  His  merciful  Heart,  but  a  sign  set 
up  to  be  contradicted  by  us. 

Look  into  the  world,  and  what  do  you  see?    The  loosest  of  livers^ 


348 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


but  the  strictest  of  judges.  Men  with  their  hearts  full  of  sin,  and  their 
hands  full  of  stones.  They  act  as  though  they  hoped  for  mercy  by  being 
unmerciful :  as  if  they  were  to  escape  Hell  by  sending  others  there — as  if 
by  showing  the  Almighty  Judge  how  mighty  they  had  been  in  judgment, 
they  might, escape  the  terrors  of  His  tribunal,  and  the  rigors  of  His  jus- 
tice !  Truly  they  read  the  Gospel  backward,  and  set  their  lives  in  exact 
opposition  to  the  life  of  Jesus,  who,  flinging  to  the  world  His  challenge, 
^*  Which  of  you  shall  convince  me  of  sin?"  went  down  among  sinners, 
and  bore  their  sins,  and  suffered  their  punishments,  that  He  might  win 
the  right  to  be  merciful  to  them,  and  with  His  own  death  save  them  from 
everlasting  death.  Behold  the  contrast  between  Jesus  and  the  Pharisaical 
world  in  the  judgment  of  sinners:  there  is  what  we  have  to  imitate; 
there,  what  we  have  to  avoid. 

O  Jesus,  soften  our  hearts  to  sinners  that  we  may  win  their  souls  to 
Thee.  Sacred  Heart,  make  our  hearts  gentle  and  forgiving  while  keeping 
them  pure,  that  we  may  attract  the  sinner  while  we  drive  out  the  sin. 
Make  us  write,  as  Thou  didst,  our  sentences  of  condemnation  in  the  dust, 
that  we  may  write  our  mercy  on  the  hearts  of  men  ;  and  grant  that  by 
being  severe  to  our  own  sins,  and  gentle  and  forgiving  to  the  sins  of 
others,  we  may  come  to  receive  in  the  measure  we  have  measured  out, 
and,  in  the  company  of  the  merciful,  to  find  mercy ! 


CHRISTIAN  CHARITY. 

"  God  commendeth  His  charity  toward  us." — Rom.  v.  8. 

i  EARLY  beloved,  the  charity  of  God  is  the  model  of  our 
charity ;  and  if  I  come  to  you  to-day  to  suggest  to  you  the 
motive  and  the  measure  of  your  charity,  where  can  I,  as  a  Chris- 
tian preacher,  find  a  higher  or  a  truer  type  than  in  the  charity 
of  God  ?  St.  Paul  tells  us  that  "  God  commendeth  His  charity  toward 
us  ";  and  He  does  so,  not  only  to  move  us  to  gratitude  toward  Him, 
but  also  to  lead  us  to  imitate  Him.  How  He  commended  His  charity  to 
us  we  may  see  touchingly  recorded  in  the  Gospel.  For  remember, 
brethren,  that  gentle  Son  of  Man  whom  we  watch  as  He  answers  the 
sorrow-stricken  father's  call  to  visit  the  house  of  death,  who,  as  He  goes, 
works  another  merciful  cure  on  the  poor  sufferer  of  years,  and  bids  her 
go  in  soundness  and  in  peace  ;  whose  visit  is  greeted  with  derision,  but 
ends  in  raising  the  dead  to  life — this  merciful  Visitor,  meek  and  humble, 
yet,  oh !  so  powerful  in  His  meekness  and  humility — this  is  no  other  than 
the  Almighty  God  Himself.  Familiar  as  we  are  with  such  Gospel  ex- 
amples of  the  charity  of  Jesus  Christ,  of  His  visits  to  the  homes  of 
poverty  and  sickness,  of  His  gentle  deeds  and  words  among  the  sufferers  of 
earth,  are  we  familiar  enough  with  the  thought  that  He  who  did  these 
things  was  indeed  the  Eternal  God  ?  We  know  it,  but  do  we  always  re- 
member it,  even  when  we  recall  the  charities  of  Jesus?  Let  us  then 
look  to-day  at  the  dispensation  of  God's  charity  to  us,  that  we  may,  at 
however  great  a  distance,  be  imitators  of  Him,  and  shape  our  deeds  of 
mercy  to  others  after  the  manner  of  His  mercies  to  us. 

Let  me  ask  you,  then,  to  observe  closely  this  fact  in  the  charity  of 
God ;  that  He  not  only  did  the  great  act  of  charity  for  us,  the  act  of  re- 
deeming us,  but  that  He  came  down  to  our  level  to  do  it.  We  are  bought 
by  Him  at  a  great  price ;  but  He  did  not  throw  down  the  price  of  our 
Redemption,  as  I  may  venture  to  say,  from  His  high  palace  in  Heaven, 
down  into  the  mire  in  which  we  suppliants  lay.  No  ;  He  came  Himself 
in  lowly  guise  with  His  own  pierced  hands  and  from  His  riven  Heart  to 
give  us  the  price  of  our  ransom.  "He  emptied  Himself,"  as  St.  Paul 
puts  it,  "  taking  the  form  of  a  servant."  That  is  to  say,  He  supplemented 
the  great  essential  mercy  of  Redemption  with  other  mercies  which  were 

(349) 


350       .  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

not  essential.  He  not  only  wrought,  as  our  Saviour,  the  charity  of  our 
salvation,  but  He  commended  that  charity  to  us  by  the  unspeakable  gen- 
tleness of  word  and  deed,  and  by  the  utter  self-sacrifice  with  which  He 
wrought  it.  If  I  may  worthily  use  the  expression  in  regard  to  the  Al- 
mighty God,  His  charity  appeared  to  us  not  only  in  His  gift,  but  also  in 
His  manner  in  giving:  and  indeed  we  may  say  that  in  a  way  the  manner 
was  more  than  the  matter  of  the  gift.  For  the  matter  of  His  charity  to 
us  was  the  gift  of  salvation ;  but  the  manner  in  which  He  gave  was  by 
giving  us  Himself  as  Saviour.  We  can  well  fancy  the  apostles  and 
disciples,  brethren,  half  forgetting  the  great  work  that  Jesus  came 
to  do  in  the  winsomeness  of  His  presence  and  in  the  teeming  pro- 
fusion of  His  mercifulness  when,  as  one  of  them,  St.  Peter,  so  touchingly 
said,  "  the  Lord  Jesus  came  in  and  went  out  "  amongst  them.  So  pass- 
ing sweet  was  it  to  have  Him  for  their  companion,  for  their  friend  and 
teacher,  that  they  may  easily  have  forgotten  the  main  fact  that  He  came 
to  be  their  Redeemer.  So  in  this  day's  Gospel,  His  miracle  on  the 
poor  woman  by  the  road  may  have  caused  them  for  the  time  to  forget 
that  He  was  on  His  way  to  work  a  yet  greater  miracle  on  the  Ruler's 
daughter.  In  this  way,  I  say,  the  accidental  and  accessory  kindness  of 
Jesus  was  such  as  almost  to  overshadow  the  essential  and  central  act  which 
brought  us  from  death  to  life. 

And  does  it  not  seem  as  though  God  meant  this  to  be  so,  and  meant 
us,  if  not  to  value  more,  at  least  to  dwell  more  upon,  the  mercy  of  His 
life  amongst  us  than  the  mercy  of  His  death  for  us  ?  To  be  sure.  He 
lived  only  that  He  might  die :  for  this,  all  was  merely  preparatory.  Yet 
the  preparation  was  of  three-and-thirty  years,  and  He  lived  in  the  broad 
light  of  day,  while  the  sun  was  darkened  at  the  hour  of  His  death — as  if  we 
should  look  upon  His  life  rather  than  upon  His  death.  And,  oh!  what  a  life 
to  look  upon  !  How  it  commendeth  the  charity  of  God  toward  us.  So 
full  of  gentleness,  so  lowly  and  so  winning  in  act  and  word !  Need  I  re- 
call those  acts  of  His:  how  He  embraced,  and  laid  His  hands  upon  the 
little  children  whom  He  would  not  suffer  to  be  kept  from  Him :  how  He 
visited  the  houses  of  the  sick  and  sorrowful,  curing  some,  comforting  all : 
how  His  tears  flowed  when  He  stood  by  His  friend's  grave,  and  when 
He  saw  the  city  He  loved  heedless  of  the  day  of  visitation  ?  Nor  do  you 
forget  the  words  that  revealed  the  gentleness  of  the  Heart  from  which 
they  sprang — "  Come  ye  all  unto  me  who  labor  and  are  heavily  laden  and 
I  will  refresh  you,"  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me  and  forbid 
them  not."  And  to  the  unfriendly  traitor,  "  Friend,  whereto  art  thou 
come?"  and  for  those  that  nailed  Him  to  the  Cross,  "Father,  forgive 
them  !  "  And  again  mark,  brethren — for  this  is  the  point  I  desire  to  im- 
press— that  all  this  kindliness  of  deed  and  word  was  apart  from  the  main 


FATHER  RYAN.  361 

act  of  Redemption,  which  was  accomplished  on  Calvary,  at  the  moment 
of  His  death,  and  then  and  there  alone.  This,  then,  is  the  charity  of 
God — a  charity  first  of  paying  the  price  of  our  salvation  ;  and,  secondly, 
but  most  impressively  and  clearly,  of  commending  that  saving  alms  by 
meekness  and  humility,  and  all  the  graciousness  and  winning  sweetness 
that  made  up  the  life  and  character  of  our  dear  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 

It  is  natural  to  expect  that  we  shall  find  the  Church  a  close  follower 
of  her  Divine  Founder  in  this  characteristic  of  His  charity ;  and  her 
deeds  of  mercy,  and  the  large  charities  of  her  every  age  we  may  expect 
to  see  accompanied  and  commended  by  Christlike  gentleness  and  con- 
sideration. Indeed  had  her  Master  never  set  her  the  example  she  would 
still  have  naturally  acted  thus.  For  she  would  not  be  likely  to  forget  the 
spiritual  in  relieving  the  corporal  distresses  of  her  children.  She  would 
know  how  vain  it  is  to  take  away  the  pain  of  the  body  and  to  leave  the 
far  more  bitter  pang  of  the  soul.  And  so  in  all  the  dispensation  of  her 
world-wide  charity  throughout  the  ages  she  has  ever  won  the  hearts  of 
those  whose  poverty  she  has  relieved,  whose  hunger  she  has  fed,  whose 
afflicted  homes  she  has  visited.  For  them  has  she  emptied  herself  and 
taken  the  form  of  a  servant.  Her  crown,  her  sceptre,  and  her  glittering 
robes,  these  have  commended  her  at  all  times  to  the  great  ones  of  the 
earth  ;  but  it  was  the  lowly  garb  of  the  humble  religious,  the  plain  yet 
kindly  ministrations  of  poor  priests  that  commended  her  to  the  poor  and 
lowly,  and  made  easy  the  task  of  saving  the  souls  thus  moved  and  won.  It 
was  so  from  the  first,  in  the  days  of  what  has  been  called  "  Christian 
Communism."  In  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  the  first  record  of  the 
Church's  history,  we  read  :  "  And  all  they  that  believed  were  together, 
and  had  all  things  in  common.  Their  possessions  and  goods  they  sold, 
and  divided  them  to  all,  according  as  every  one  had  need  ;  and  breaking 
bread  from  house  to  house  they  took  their  meat  with  gladness  and  sim- 
plicity of  heart,  praising  God  and  having  favor  with  all  the  people."  Ah, 
how  different  that  from  the  fierce  communism  of  these  evil  days,  that 
spirit  of  uncharity  above  and  uncharity  below,  which  has  had  in  other 
lands  such  disastrous  results.  No  wonder  that  the  gentle  dispensation  of 
those  primitive  days  of  Christianity  bore  the  fruit  of  which  St.  Luke  tells 
us  in  another  part  of  the  Acts,  where  we  read  that  "  the  multitude  of  be- 
lievers had  but  one  heart  and  one  soul,  neither  was  there  any  one  needy 
among  them." 

Again,  the  humility  which  commended  the  charity  of  the  Church  of 
God  is  to  be  seen  in  the  records  of  the  Bishops  of  every  age,  beginning 
with  the  Supreme  Pontiff  whose  proudest  title  was  Servus  servorutn  Dei 
— "  the  servant  of  the  servants  of  God."  They  not  only  emptied  their 
purses  to  the  poor,  but,  like  their  Master,  they  emptied  themselves  of  their 


352  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

high  honors  and  of  the  dignity  which  men  love  to  assume  with  exalted 
office,  and  moved  among  God's  lowly  ones,  the  lowliest  of  them  all.  Vou 
remember  how  St.  Laurence,  the  deacon  of  Pope  St.  Xystus,  kept  the  list 
of  the  poor  of  Rome  ;  how  he  and  the  holy  Pope  knew  every  poor  Chris- 
tian home  in  the  city,  and  had  on  one  list  1,500  names  for  relief;  and  that 
was  in  the  first  part  of  the  third  century.  St.  Laurence  was  not  ashamed 
of  his  beloved  poor ;  for  when  asked  by  the  Pagan  Prefect  to  show  him 
the  treasures  of  the  Church,  the  saint  went  out  to  the  well-known  haunts 
of  poverty  in  Rome  and  collected  all  those  whom  his  charity  supported 
there,  and  showed  them  to  the  Pagan,  saying,  "  Behold  my  treasures, 
the  treasures  of  the  Roman  Church."  In  the  same  century,  St.  Cyprian, 
Bishop  of  Carthage,  shone  before  all  the  Christians  of  Africa  not  only  as 
the  glorious  teacher  and  wise  administrator,  but  also  as  the  devoted  serv- 
ant of  the  poor.  Nor  was  he  content  with  himself  spending  all  he  had 
upon  them,  and  lavishing  his  gentle  care  upon  the  most  abandoned,  but 
he  preached  as  well  to  the  richer  members  of  his  flock,  exhorting  them 
both  by  word  and  by  letter  to  relieve  His  dearly-loved  poor.  He  used 
to  say,  "  Let  not  that  money  sleep  in  your  purses  which  may  be  profit- 
able to  the  poor.  Since  a  man  must  of  necessity  part  with  it  sooner  or 
later,  surely  it  is  wise  of  him  so  to  distribute  it,  that  God  may  give  him  an 
everlasting  reward."  Ah,  brethren,  that  is  some  of  the  common  sense  of 
saints !  Would  that  St.  Cyprian  were  in  this  pulpit  to  move  you  to 
feel  some  of  the  love  and  compassion  he  felt  for  the  poor  of  Christ ! 

And  as  the  gentleness  which  accompanied  the  generosity  of  God's 
charity  found  such  faithful  imitators  among  the  prelates  of  the  Church 
(for  I  need  not  say  that  I  have  but  selected  two  in  a  distant  age  as  speci- 
mens of  the  episcopate  of  all  time),  so  did  it  find  a  home  in  those  relig- 
ious Orders  which  grew  with  the  growth  of  Christianity.  Holy  men  and 
women,  burning  to  alleviate  the  distress  of  soul  and  body  that  they  saw 
around  them,  became  themselves  poor,  and  bound  themselves  by  a  vow 
of  poverty  that,  as  poor  amongst  the  poor,  they  might  follow  more  closely 
in  the  steps  of  Him  "who  His  own  self  bore  our  sins  in  His  Body." 
Yes,  as  the  Eternal  God  commended  His  charity  by  emptying  Himself, 
and  coming  down  to  the  lowly  level  of  those  whom  He  redeemed,  so  did 
these.  His  heroic  followers,  leave  riches,  and  honor,  and  friends,  to  be  out- 
casts among  outcasts,  the  poorest  of  the  poor,  acquainted,  like  their  Di- 
vine Master,  with  infirmity,  that  they  might  more  tenderly  and  sympa- 
thetically relieve  it.  It  were  a  long  story,  that  of  the  charities  of  the  Or- 
ders of  men  and  women  in  the  Church.  But  the  lesson  is  a  plain  one. 
Their  power,  and  the  secret  of  their  extraordinary  favor  with  the  people, 
lay  not  so  much  in  the  fact  of  their  large  material  alms,  nor  of  the  medi- 
cal skill  which  for  centuries  they  all  but  monopolized,  as  in  the  humility 


FATHER  RYAN.  353 

and  tenderness  of  their  charity,  so  unlike  all  else  that  poverty  met  with 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  A  Protestant  historian  of  the  first  rank  has 
in  one  of  his  most  eloquent  pages  told  the  story  of  the  success  the  "  Beg- 
ging Friars  "  met  with  in  England.  Their  work  in  London  alone  in  the 
early  years  of  the  thirteenth  century  endeared  them  to  all  the  people. 
Their  charity  was  commended  by  its  humility.  "  Fever,  plague,  or  the 
more  terrible  scourge  of  leprosy  festered  in  the  wretched  hovels  of  the 
suburbs.  It  was  to  haunts  such  as  these  that  Francis  had  pointed  his  dis- 
ciples, and  the  Grey  Brethren  (as  these  Friars  were  called)  at  once  fixed 

themselves  in  the  meanest  and  poorest  quarters  of  each  town It 

was  amongst  the  lepers  that  that  community  chose  the  site  of  their 

houses Huts  of  mud  and  timber,  as  mean  as  the  huts  around 

them,  rose  within  the  rough  fence  and  ditch  that  bounded  the  friary. 
None  but  the  sick  went  shod."  These  words  of  a  non-Catholic  writer 
find  singular  confirmation  in  the  unanimous  testimony  of  all  historians 
regarding  the  desolation  and  entire  abandonment  of  the  poor  that  fol- 
lowed on  the  suppression  of  these  monasteries  and  the  dispersion  of  the 
friars. 

Alas !  brethren,  we  have  but  scanty  records  of  the  charities  of  Christi- 
anity in  Ireland.  Convulsions  which  shook  the  nation  to  its  foundations 
left  but  scattered  traces,  and  dim,  uncertain  memories,  of  how  Irish 
monks  ministered  with  loving  humility  to  the  wants  of  the  Irish  poor. 
But  enough  remains  for  us  to  see  that  this  country  was  no  exception  to 
the  Christian  rule  of  charity,  that  there  was  no  departure  here  from  the 
model  charity  of  God,  and  that  in  Ireland,  as  elsewhere,  that  charity  was 
commended  by  the  sweetness  and  meekness  with  which  it  was  dispensed. 
And  may  we  not  point  to  the  close-knit  union  between  the  great  religious 
orders  in  this  country  and  the  people,  especially  the  poor,  as  a  proof  that 
the  spirit  of  Irish  charity  was  Apostolic,  shaped  on  the  humility  of  the 
charity  of  God  ?  Amid  our  many  sorrows  we  have  not  this  sorrow,  that 
the  Irish  priest,  whether  regular  or  secular,  ever  raised  himself  in  pride 
out  from  the  ranks  of  God's  poor,  or  ever  ceased  to  identify  himself  and 
his  interests  with  the  cause  and  with  the  interests  of  his  lowly  flock. 

But,  brethren,  it  will  especially  guide  us  to  the  end  I  have  in  view,  to 
consider  the  society  in  whose  behalf  I  plead  to-day,  and  to  see  both  in  the 
character  of  the  saint  who  gives  it  his  name  and  his  patronage,  and  in  the 
working  charity  of  the  society  itself,  precisely  and  pre-eminently  that 
quality  of  humility  and  self-abasement  which  commends  to  men  the  char- 
ity of  God.  Of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  one  short  story  will  suffice.  He  was, 
as  you  know,  a  child  of  the  people,  and  had  labored  himself  in  the  fields 
for  poor  wages.  His  talents,  and  above  all  his  sanctity,  in  time  raised 
him  to  be  the  most  conspicuous  figure  in  all  France.     Men  spoke  of  him 


354:  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

as  "  The  Great  Vincent."  He  was  in  high  favor  in  court.  The  queen 
would  do  nothing  without  his  advice.  Amidst  all  this  honor,  so  apt  to 
turn  the  head  and  puff  up  the  pride  of  even  holy  priests,  his  servant  came 
to  him  one  day,  in  his  house  in  Paris,  to  tell  him  that  a  poor,  ragged-look- 
ing man  was  at  the  door,  and  said  he  was  St.  Vincent's  nephew.  Now, 
St.  Vincent  was  just  then  awaiting  the  visit  of  some  nobles  of  the  court 
of  France,  who  were  coming  to  consult  him,  and  he  gave  way  for  a  mo- 
ment to  a  feeling  of  shame,  that  they  should  find  such  a  wretchedly- 
dressed  peasant  to  be  his  nephew ;  and  so  he  gave  the  servant  a  sum  of 
money  and  told  him  to  give  it  to  his  nephew  and  send  him  away.  But 
the  servant  was  not  down-stairs  when  grace  had  done-  its  work.  "  Ah,  Vin- 
cent, is  this  your  humble  charity  ?  "  And  the  saint  rushed  down,  and  in 
the  presence  of  all  there  embraced  the  poor  man,  told  him  how  honored 
he  felt  to  be  claimed  as  his  uncle,  brought  him  in,  introduced  him  to  his 
household,  and  when  the  noblemen  from  court  arrived,  presented  him  to 
each  of  them  as  his  dearly-loved  nephew.  There,  brethren,  is  Christian, 
God-like  charity,  because  it  is  charity  commended  by  humility.  The 
alms  that  Vincent  sent  down  by  his  servant  may  have  been  very  great 
and  generous,  but  how  poor  in  comparison  with  this  outpouring  of  the 
heart  with  which  Vincent  followed  it !  The  mere  opening  of  the  hand, 
in  that  case,  would  scarcely  have  escaped  the  resentment  of  the  poor  man, 
and  the  censure  of  Almighty  God ;  but  the  opening  of  the  heart  as  well, 
that  commended  the  charity  of  Vincent  to  God  and  man. 

And  in  that  incident  in  the  life  of  St.  VincenJt  I  see,  brethren,  the  very 
type  of  all  that  world-wide  benevolence  which  has,  since  its  institution, 
commended  the  charities  of  the  Society  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.  It  has 
not  been  so  much  the  money  they  have  disbursed,  nor  the  food  nor  fuel 
nor  clothing  they  have  distributed  to  the  needy,  as  the  gentle  and  Chris- 
tian spirit  in  which  these  have  been  given,  as  the  humility  with  which 
those  in  high  social  position  have  come  down  to  the  level  of  those  whom 
they  have  succored,  have  inquired  into  their  wants  and  visited  their 
homes,  and  given  them  not  only  bodily  relief,  but  that  sympathy  that 
heals  the  wounds  of  the  heart,  and  relieves  the  distresses  of  the  soul. 
This  it  is  that  warms  my  heart,  I  confess,  dear  brethren,  to  the  Society  of 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  and  this  it  is  that  commends  to  me  their  charity.  It 
is  not  the  mere  dole,  it  is  the  personal  intercourse  with  the  poor,  of  those 
pious  and  devoted  men  and  women,  their  knowledge  of  the  needs  to 
which  they  minister,  their  utter  disregard  of  all  those  barriers  that  a 
proud  world  has  erected  between  class  and  class — in  a  word,  it  is  the  feel- 
ing that  they  have  Christian  hearts  that  makes  me  warm  to  their  charities 
as  I  cannot  to  any  other,  and  that  fills  me  with  the  desire  of  moving  you 
to  be  generous  in  their  regard.     Ah !  given  through  the  hands  of  humble 


FATHER  RYAN.  355 

Christians,  such  as  you  know  these  men  and  women  to  be ;  given  to  be 
distributed  with  gentleness  and  discrimination,  will  not  your  alms  have  a 
double  value?  We  all  want  to  extend  as  far  as  possible  the  sphere  of  our 
benevolence.  Here  is  a  ready  means,  by  which  the  money  given  in  this 
church  to-day  will  have  powers  far  beyond  the  value  of  the  coin  itself. 
The  material  relief  it  will  purchase  for  the  bodies  of  the  poor  of  this  city 
will  be  supplemented  by  the  larger  charity,  the  Christian  sympathy  it  will 
administer  to  their  souls ;  and,  above  all,  by  the  supreme  mercy  of  helping 
toward  the  contentment  and  resignation  of  those  whose  lot  it  is  to  suffer 
poverty,  by  showing  them  the  active  charity  and  self-sacrifice  of  those 
born  to  happier  things. 

The  true  value,  as  a  social  fact,  of  this  Christian  charity  may  be  esti- 
mated by  the  extent  to  which  the  worldly,  or,  as  I  must  call  it,  the  un- 
christian poor-relief  has  failed.  Tell  me  if  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
pounds  yearly  spent  in  these  kingdoms  by  the  State  in  relief  of  the  poor 
have  had  any  effect  in  either  reconciling  those  relieved  to  their  needy 
state,  or  in  bringing  them  to  look  with  love  or  gratitude  on  the  classes 
charged  with  their  support.  Sum  up  in  your  minds  all  the  food  and 
clothes,  and  fuel,  all  the  great  public  establishments  provided  for  the  poor 
in  this  country,  for  instance,  and  ask  yourselves  is  there  any  correspond- 
ing union  of  hearts  between  the  poor  and  those  taxed  for  their  relief,  or 
appointed  as  guardians  of  their  interests.  To  put  it  in  another  way,  what 
likeness  is  there  between  the  way  in  which  the  Poor  Law  Guardians  and 
the  way  in  which  the  Brothers  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  are  regarded  by 
those  who  are  respectively  relieved  by  each  ?  I  fear  the  very  comparison 
will  make  you  smile.  And,  oh  !  why  is  this  ?  Surely  it  is  a  striking 
illustration  of  how  no  charity  will  relieve  the  souls,  as  well  as  the  bodies 
of  the  poor,  save  such  as  is  commended  by  the  gentle  humility  of  those 
that  dispense  it.  At  this  very  moment,  in  a  city  ramified  by  State  chari- 
ties, in  which  official  poor-relief  is  carried  to  a  point  of  almost  absolute 
perfection,  in  the  city  of  London,  what  do  we  see  ?  Even  as  I  speak, 
police  and  military  are  watching  the  masses  of  angry  men  whose  hatred 
for  their  wealthier  fellow-citizens  is'only  restrained  from  violent  outbreaks 
by  the  terrors  of  shot  and  steel.  Yes,  the  almsgiving  oi^  London  has 
failed.  From  the  palace  window,  from  the  splendid  carriage,  from 
jewelled  fingers,  the  coin  is  flung  down  to  be  clutched  by  the  grimy  hands 
of  poverty :  but  no  blessing  follows.  It  is  not  mercy,  hence  it  neither 
blesses  him  that  gives  nor  him  that  takes.  It  buys  off  the  desperate  sup- 
pliant for  a  time,  but  only  for  a  time,  and  without  mitigating  one  pang  of 
his  deep  despair.  It  is  given  without  gentleness,  without  humility,  and 
it  is  received  without  gratitude.  And  hence  the  scandal,  in  the  ver>'  cen- 
tre of  civilization,  of  armed  men  face  to  face  with  the  threatening  masses 


356  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

of  the  poor.  Ah,  brethren,  there  is  a  better  way  to  break  those  masses 
and  to  quell  that  angry  multitude  than  by  bayonet  or  baton.  There  is 
the  power  of  Christian  charity,  commended  to  those  poor  sufferers  by 
Christian  humility  and  gentleness.  And  as  it  is,  I  verily  believe  that  the 
only  thing  that  really  stays  the  hungry  hordes  in  London  from  wreaking 
their  mad  vengeance  on  their  wealthier  neighbors  is,  that  here  and  there 
through  that  vast  city  are  societies — some  Catholic,  but  many  more  Prot- 
estant— which  work  upon  the  Christian  principle,  and  send  their  mem- 
bers in  and  out  as  messengers  of  mercy  among  the  poor.  And  God  will 
bless  them,  no  matter  what  their  creed  :  indeed,  they  already  have  some 
portion  of  that  blessing  in  the  fact,  undoubted  as  I  believe  it  to  be,  that 
it  is  their  Christian  humility  that  has  commended  their  charity  to  the 
poor,  and  has,  in  consequence,  broken  the  desperation  that  would  other- 
wise sweep  before  it  the  strongest  power  that  could  be  brought  to  check  it. 
If  we  have,  in  this  favored  city,  a  very  different  spectacle,  let  us  hum- 
bly thank  God  for  it.  It  is  not  that  we  have  not  poverty — God  knows  we 
have  enough  to  wring  our  hearts.  But  there  has  grown  up  here,  in  the 
sight  of  all  the  nation,  a  grand  spirit  of  Christian  charity  for  which  it 
would  be  hard  to  find  a  parallel.  Those  whom  God  has  blessed  with 
wealth  have  not  only  never  stinted  their  benefactions  to  the  poor,  but 
have  themselves  humbly  and  at  no  small  self-sacrifice  shared  the  labor  of 
dispensing  them.  And  it  is  that  fact  to  which  I  now  point  in  appealing 
to  you  to  give  your  alms  to-day  into  the  hands  of  the  members  of  the 
Society  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.  By  doing  so  you  will  ensure  your  money 
being  spent  in  such  a  way  that  while  relieving  the  needs  of  the  poor  it 
will  also  pour  balm  upon  their  souls,  and  unite  them  with  you,  as  in  the 
early  days  of  Christianity,  making  you  "  of  one  heart  and  one  soul."  I  ask 
you  to  be  generous  now,  in  this  time  when  so  many  elements  threaten  us 
with  a  stormful  and  distressful  winter.  I  ask  you  to  be  generous,  for 
every  penny  given  through  the  hands  of  this  society  will  be  as  an  oil  upon 
troubled  waters,  as  rays  of  sunshine  through  darkling  clouds.  I  ask  you 
to  give,  then,  first,  for  the  saving  of  society  from  the  perils  consequent 
on  hard-hearted  and  calculating,  and  therefore  unchristian,  donations  to 
the  poor.  I  ^sk  you  to  give,  secondly,  that  you  may  have  the  blessing  of 
those  guardian  angels  of  the  poor  who  so  love  this  channel  of  relief  be- 
cause it  bears  comfort  to  the  souls  as  well  as  to  the  bodies  of  those  whom 
they  have  care  of.  I  ask  you  to  be  generous  in  your  offerings,  remember- 
ing that  you  will  never  be  in  better  dispositions  for  meritorious  almsgiving 
than  now  when  you  have  the  highest  motive  before  you,  the  very  charity 
of  God,  and  when  you  give  even  in  His  Holy  Place.  Give,  again,  freely, 
because  you  will  not  get  better  value  for  your  money  than  God  will  give. 
Trust  Him  :  you  may  in  years  to  come  forget  to-day's  donation  :  He  will 


FATHER  RYAN. 


357 


not  forget  it,  it  will  be  before  you  in  judgment.  Do  not  resist  the  im- 
pulse now  to  give  all  it  is  in  your  power  to  give.  For  that  impulse  is  the 
grace  of  God  who  is  pleading  for  His  children  in  the  very  depths  of  your 
hearts.  Give  now  and  here,  that  in  the  dark  winter  nights  you  may  be 
comforted  by  the  memory  of  this  almsgiving,  and  may  not  have  your 
couch  haunted  by  the  cries  of  the  sleepless  poor.  Give  to  this  blessed 
society,  and  your  alms  will  be  doubled  in  the  gentle  charity  with  which 
they  will  be  dispensed.  Oh,  if  you  will  not  give  at  my  bidding,  hear  the 
pleading  voice  of  Him  who  gave  His  life's  blood  for  you.  Hear  Jesus 
crying  to  you  with  outstretched  hands :  "  Be  ye  merciful,  as  your  Father 
also  is  merciful.  Give,  and  it  shall  be  given  to  you  :  good  measure,  and 
pressed  down  and  shaken  together  and  running  over  shall  they  give  into 
your  bosom."  And  not  for  words  of  mine,  but  for  the  love  of  your  own 
souls,  and  while  you  are  tempted  to  stay  your  hand  and  stint  your  alms, 
listen  to  these  closing  words  of  Jesus,  so  full  of  terror,  so  full  of  hope: 
"  For,  with  the  same  measure  that  you  shall  measure  withal,  it  shall  be 
measured  to  you  again." 

May  God  give  you  strength  to  be  generous  now,  and  bless  you  through 
life  with  grace  and  plenty,  and  in  death  comfort  you  with  the  memory  of 
your  charity  to-day.     Amen. 


PERSEVERANCE. 

PRIEST,  dear  brethren,  in  the  long  hours  he  spends  in  the 
confessional,  has  many  troubles  to  enter  into,  many  a  fear, 
many  a  sorrow.  This  one  trouble  is  always  there,  whether  he 
raises  his  absolving  hand  over  the  sinner  of  years  or  over  the 
penitent  of  a  week —  JVt//  this  one  persevere  ?  Whether  the  bowed  head 
bears  the  light  curls  of  boyhood,  the  dark  locks  of  manhood,  or  the  gray 
hairs  of  old  age,  the  haunting  thought  is  still  the  same — Will  he  persevere 
to  the  end?  I  absolve  thee  now ;  but  how  long  will  the  grace  of  this  absolu- 
tion last  ?  Oh,  the  weight  of  this  thought  to  the  priest  who,  in  the  spirit 
of  St.  Paul,  loves  those  penitent  souls  as  he  loves  his  life,  to  whom  they 
are  his  joy  and  his  crown  !  This  thought  prompted  your  director  to  ask 
me  to  say  a  few  words  to  you  about  this  fearfully  important  subject  of 
Final  Perseverance.  Boys,  young  men,  old  men,  members  of  this  Con- 
fraternity, what  about  your  perseverance  ?  You  are  intelligent  Catholics, 
and  wish  to  know  the  entire  truth  about  the  matter.  This,  then,  is  the 
Church's  doctrine.  Perseverance  is  called  active  and  passive.  These 
words  have  an  important  meaning.  Every  work  done  by  the  help  of 
God's  grace  has  two  parts:  the  part  that  comes  from  God,  His  pure, 
gratuitous  gift,  and  man's  part,  or  his  correspondence  with  that  gift. 
Passive  perseverance  is  the  continuing  in  a  state  of  grace  as  infants  do,  or 
the  dying  in  that  state  as  those  do  "  whom  the  Lord  findeth  watching  "; 
for  the  soul  is  passive  here,  and  we  regard  God's  gift  alone  without  refer- 
ence to  any  action  of  the  recipient.  Man's  part,  on  the  other  hand,  or 
the  use  he  makes  of  the  graces  given  him,  is  called  the  active  part  of  per- 
severance, because  he  is  required  to  work  with  the  grace  given  him,  to  do 
his  duty,  and  thus,  by  active  fidelity,  to  "  work  out  "  his  salvation.  When 
man  does  his  part — his  Active  part — in  the  persevering  use  of  grace  re- 
ceived— and  when  God  adds  to  that  work  of  man  His  own  free  and 
gracious  gift  of  final  perseverance,  then  you  have  the  full  grace  of  per- 
severance— that  grace  so  important  that  no  soul  can  enter  Heaven  with- 
out it ;  for  he  who  perseveres  to  the  end,  he,  and  he  alone,  shall  be 
saved. 

A  poor  man  is  taken  up  and  started  in  life  by  a  rich  nobleman.     He 
receives  some  capital,  and  by  his  labor  increases  it.     He  works  energetic- 
(368) 


FATHER  RYAN.  359 

ally,  and  uses  this  capital.  Hard  times  come  ;  he  is  in  fear  of  losing  all ; 
and  his  rich  friend  gives  him  more  help.  The  years  go  on.  All  the 
poorer  man's  prosperity  has  depended  on  and  been  supported  by  the 
other's  gifts ;  but  he  has  done  his  own  part :  he  has  worked  honestly  and 
constantly.  At  last  his  benefactor,  seeing  his  industry  and  worth,  sends 
for  him,  and  says :  "  1  gave  you  many  helps :  I  started  you  in  life,  and 
helped  you  through  it.  You  have  on  your  side  worked  well,  through  hard 
times  and  good  times,  and  you  have  much  increased  what  I  gave  you. 
Now,  I  am  going  to  give  you  another  and  a  greater  gift.  I  am  determined 
to  finish  generously  what  I  began  gratuitously:  I  now  name  you  heir  of 
my  property  and  sharer  in  my  honors.  You  are  now  yourself  wealthy 
and  noble."  This  splendid  bounty  is,  you  see,  entirely  free — as  free  as 
the  first  gift  of  capital  to  the  poor  man.  But  this  last  great  gift  is  made 
by  the  nobleman  when  he  has  tested  the  faithful  industry  of  the  man  he 
helps.     It  would  not  be  given  to  an  idler  or  a  spendthrift. 

So  with  God  and  the  soul.  We  are  poor.  In  baptism  and  the  first 
graces  we  were  set  up  in  the  spiritual  life.  From  time  to  time  God  gave 
us  further  help  in  sacraments,  and  helps  such  as  is  this  Confraternity.  On 
our  part,  as  I  trust,  we  used  them.  In  baptism  we  received  graces  to 
renounce  the  Devil,  the  World,  and  the  Flesh,  and  we  have  acted  up  to 
those  graces.  Or  if  we  have  not  done  so,  God  has  given  us  more :  the 
absolution  of  the  priest  set  us  up  again  when  we  had  lost  all  by  mortal 
sin,  or  were  in  danger  by  venial  sin.  But,  as  in  the  case  of  the  rich 
benefactor,  God  has  yet  another  and  a  greater  gift  to  make  us,  the  crown 
and  completion  of  all,  the  grace  of  the  day  when  to  all  these  gifts  He 
will  add  the  call  to  His  eternal  glory,  to  the  security  from  danger  and  sin 
in  His  Kingdom,  and  by  His  side  in  Heaven.  Thus  it  is,  you  see,  that 
our  salvation  begins  with  God,  continues  by  His  help  and  our  faithful 
work,  and  ends  by  His  free  gift,  again,  of  Final  Perseverance. 

It  is  but  the  story  of  the  talents.  To  the  poor  servants  money  was 
given — one,  two,  five  talents.  The  faithful  servants  worked  with  those 
talents,  doubled  them  by  their  industry ;  and  then,  at  the  end,  their  lord, 
finding  how  well  they  had  used  his  first  gifts,  gave  them  a  far  greater  gift 
yet — a  share  in  his  wealth  and  honor  and  joy.  "  Well  done  !  because  thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  place  thee  over  many :  enter 
into  the  joy  of  thy  lord."  This  is  the  teaching  of  the  Church  concerning 
perseverance.  It  begins  with  God,  and  it  ends  with  Him — His  free  gift  in 
both  cases;  but  He  has  made  it  to  depend  also  on  our  own  endeavors — 
our  faithful  "working  out "  of  our  salvation.  Into  these  two  parts,  then, 
perseverance  has  rightly  been  divided :  into  active  perseverance,  or  our 
own  part  in  our  salvation,  and  passive  perseverance,  or  the  continuance 
with  us  to  the  end  of  the  bountiful  grace  of  God. 


360  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

But  there  is  one  thing  more — one  terrible  truth — that  the  Church 
teaches  us  concerning  perseverance.  The  Council  of  Trent  has  declared 
anathema  against  any  one  who,  without  special  revelation  from  God, 
shall  say  that  he  will  certainly  and  without  fail  persevere  to  the  end.  No 
amount  of  sanctity,  no  fulness  of  early  promise,  no  length  of  faithful 
service,  can  warrant  me  to  say  that  such  a  soul  will  certainly  persevere, 
and  die  in  the  grace  of  God. 

We  know  well  how  little  we  can  rely  on  good  beginnings.  See  the 
ship  sailing  forth  upon  her  voyage.  She  is  stout  and  staunch,  firm  in 
mast  and  rigging,  stately  in  her  strength.  The  sun  is  on  her  as  she 
shakes  her  white  shrouds  to  the  breeze.  She  is  the  very  symbol  of  youth, 
and  joy,  and  hope.  But  there  are  eyes  that  watch  that  glorious  ship 
sadly  enough  as  she  sails  bravely  forward,  for  before  them  is  another 
scene.  They  seem  to  see  a  wild  and  raging  sea  beating  on  an  iron  coast. 
Broken  and  disabled,  her  masts  in  splinters,  and  her  sails  in  shreds,  that 
ship  is  lying  on  the  cruel  rocks,  wave  after  wave  bursting  over  her,  while 
the  night  is  filled  with  cries  of  human  agony  and  despair.  O  poor  ship ! 
of  what  use  is  your  bravery  of  to-day,  your  bright  and  joyous  sailing 
forth,  if  this  is  to  be  the  end?  Brethren,  good  beginnings  do  not  always 
mean  good  endings ;  and  history  and  experience  tell  us  enough  to  make 
us  tremble  for  the  best  among  us.     Look  at  what  we  know  of  Solomon. 

He  came  of  a  holy  father,  David,  whose  penitence  has  given  the  world 
expressions  for  every  sorrow,  whose  joy  is  heard  still  in  the  psalms  of  the 
Church's  office,  whose  words  have  been  the  consolation  of  hearts  in  every 
age  and  country.  Such  was  Solomon's  father.  See  the  son  reared  by 
such  a  parent — a  child  of  God's  own  promise.  See  the  glory  of  that 
young  Wise  Man.  He  knew  more  than  any  man,  more  of  God  and  the 
things  of  God,  and  in  the  fulness  of  that  wisdom  he  wrote  those  great 
books  of  Wisdom  that  remain  to  guide  us  to  this  day.  He  raised  the 
Temple  of  Jerusalem,  and  was  directed  in  his  work  by  God  Himself. 
What  human  life  ever  had  such  an  opening?  Where  was  there  ever  such 
a  boy,  such  a  man  ?  Where  was  there  ever  such  wisdom  and  sanctity 
combined  as  in  Solomon,  God's  Wise  Man  ?  But.  alas !  the  wreck  of 
the  fair  ship,  her  ruin  and  despair,  are  not  symbols  strong  enough  for  the 
end  of  Solomon.  That  noble  form  was  degraded  to  the  most  shameful 
impurities :  he  who  had  loved  Wisdom  beyond  all  things  of  earth  was 
consumed  with  unholy  fires;  and  he  who  had  raised  a  temple  to  the 
living  God,  and  beyond  all  writers  had  told  of  the  might  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  bowed  himself,  in  his  ripe  years,  to  idols  of  wood  and  stone,  and 
to  the  filthy  obscenities  of  the  heathen. 

Oh,  brethren  !  are  we  as  wise,  as  holy,  as  near  to  God,  as  convinced 
of  the  vanity  of  creatures,  as  was  Solomon  ?    And  shall  we  live  secure  of 


FATHER  RYAN.  361 

our  future  ?  Is  there  one  here  that  can  say,  "  I  shall  persevere  to  the 
end "  ?  No.  The  Church  declares  such  certainty  cannot  be.  Young 
boys,  who  with  light  hearts  and  elastic  step,  come  week  by  week  to  your 
Confraternity  meeting,  can  you  say  how  long  you  may  be  faithful  ?  Your 
souls  are  fresh  and  pure.  How  long  will  this  last  ?  When  home  restraints 
are  weakened  and  passions  grow  in  strength,  shall  you  remain  true  to 
your  promise  of  to-day  ?  And  when  your  manhood  shall  have  ripened 
into  old  age,  when  your  elders  here  have  all  passed  away,  when  I  and 
your  priests  of  to-day  are  gone,  shall  yours  be  the  aged  faces  gathered 
round  this  pulpit  ?  Shall  you  still  be  faithful  ?  Oh  !  dear  boys,  you  do 
not — you  cannot — know.  Young  men,  struggling  now  with  your  passions, 
and  gaining  victories  by  constancy  in  confession  and  communion,  and  by 
regular  attendance  to  the  duties  of  your  Confraternity,  shall  the  angel 
that  now  joyfully  leads  you  week  by  week  to  these  meetings,  and  so  often 
to  the  confessional  and  communion  rail,  shall  that  faithful  angel  ever  have 
in  sorrow  to  follow  your  steps  into  the  paths  of  sin,  or  on  to  your  final 
ruin  ?  You  do  not  know.  You  are  pious,  pure  young  men  :  you  may  be 
godless,  impure  old  men :  you  cannot  tell.  And  you,  old  men,  who  look 
back  on  years  of  sober  service,  who  have  been  faithful  through  hard  times, 
and  have  lived  on  into  these  brighter  days,  you  who  have  lived  to  see 
the  salvation  of  this  Confraternity,  the  glory  of  your  people,  you  who  are 
ready  to  say  with  holy  Simeon,  "  Now  thou  dost  dismiss  Thy  servant,  O 
Lord,  according  to  Thy  word,  in  peace  ":  you  who  in  holiness  and  long- 
tried  fidelity  stand  at  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  shall  you  persevere, 
through  the  few  years,  ay,  the  few  months,  that  remain  of  your  trial  ? 
You  do  not,  cannot,  know.  On  you  will  the  Church's  anathema  fall  if 
you  dare  to  promise  yourself  certain  perseverance  to  the  end.  Brethren, 
such  is  the  awful  truth.  There  is  not  one  of  us  can  be  sure  of  his 
perseverance — sure. of  escaping  hell,  and  of  saving  his  soul.  Now  we  can 
understand  the  full  meaning  of  St.  Paul's  words  when  he  bids  us  work 
out  our  salvation  in  fear  and  trembling. 

But  beside  this  great  uncertainty  stands  an  equally  great  certainty. 
It  is  this.  If  we,  young  and  old,  in  fear  and  trembling  though  it  be,  work 
out  our  salvation,  do  our  part,  and  if  God  in  His  mercy  does  His  part, 
finishing  the  work  He  has  begun  in  us,  then,  I  say,  it  is  absolutely  certain 
that  we  shall  persevere  to  the  end,  and  be  saved. 

How,  then,  shall  we  do  our  part  in  persevering  to  the  end  ?  How  shall 
we  induce  God  to  do  His  part,  and  to  crown  our  efforts  with  final  success? 
My  dear  friends,  it  is  a  solemn  thing  to  give  advice  where  so  much  is  at 
stake.  But  this  is  not  any  advice  of  mine,  merely,  but  advice  that  you 
have  heard  many  a  time  before.  Your  part  in  your  final  perseverance 
consists  in  being  faithful  to  your  present  graces ;  in  persevering  now. 


362  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

This  Confraternity  is  a  great  and  splendid  grace  from  God,  His  free 
and  bounteous  gift,  one  denied  to  many,  but  given  to  you.  Use  this 
grace.  Be  faithful.  Be  faithful  from  week  to  week,  from  month  to 
month,  from  year  to  year,  and  in  your  fidelity  lift  up  your  hearts  in  hope. 
Be  regular.  There  is  great  life  and  lasting  power  in  regularity.  When 
a  physician  feels  the  pulse  of  a  man,  and  finds  it  high  and  rapid  at  one 
moment,  and  weak  and  slow  at  another,  he  knows  the  health  of  that  man 
is  bad,  and  that  if  this  continue  life  cannot  last  long.  But  when  the 
pulse  is  strong  and  steady,  beat  by  beat  equal  and  unchanging,  then  he 
knows  that  all  is  well.  So,  when  the  religious  life  of  a  community  is  one 
of  fits  and  starts,  now  hot  and  fervent  as  mission  or  retreat  comes  round, 
but  again  cold  and  sluggish  when  the  excitement  is  over,  then  it  is  not 
well,  there  is  not  much  promise  of  perseverance  to  the  end.  But  when 
we  see  this  throb  of  religious  life,  as  regularly  as  the  day  and  hour  come 
round,  pour  the  stream  of  manhood  by  road  and  street  into  this  church, 
whence  another  throb  sends  it  forth  refreshed  and  renewed  to  circulate 
through  the  parish  until  the  next  pulsation  comes ;  when  we  know  that 
"  Confraternity  night "  is  as  well  known  in  this  town,  and  even  by  non- 
Catholics,  as  the  day  of  the  week,  so  regular  is  its  recurrence ;  then  in- 
deed, we  may  have  confidence,  and  trust  in  the  vigor  of  religious  life 
amongst  us,  in  the  permanence  of  that  life,  and  its  perseverance  to  the 
end.  Be  regular,  and  then  you  will  be  doing  your  part  well,  and  giving 
hope  of  your  perseverance.  Be  regular  at  the  Sacraments,  living  in  the 
grace  of  God  in  the  hope  that  it  may  be  granted  you  to  die  in  that  grace  ; 
and  make  up  your  minds  not  to  abandon  your  present  grace,  not  to  de- 
sert the  Confraternity.  What  of  a  soldier  who  runs  away  in  sight  of  the 
enemy,  or  when  he  has  some  hardship  to  suffer  ?  What  of  one  who  for 
some  foolish  pique  or  trifling  diflficulty  proves  untrue,  flings  away  the 
arms  God  has  put  in  his  hands. here,  and  flies  ?  Will  he  persevere  ?  Will 
he  be  hopeful,  think  you,  when  he  goes  to  meet  his  captain  and  his  King  ? 
Be  active,  then,  in  your  perseverance :  beg  the  grace  of  fidelity,  brave, 
unflinching,  self-sacrificing  fidelity  to  your  holy  Confraternity,  and  you 
will  have  done  your  part  in  persevering. 

And  even  those  whose  grace  is  not  the  grace  of  being  members  of 
this  Confraternity  may  lay  the  lesson  to  heart,  that  this  fidelity  from  day 
to  day  is  the  surest  means  of  being  faithful  unto  death.  They  should 
tremble  for  the  final  issue  if  their  lives  are  but  records  of  resolutions 
made,  then  broken  and  laid  aside — of  fervent  promises  consigned  to  cold 
forgetfulness — of  repeated  fair  starts  that  have  always  come  to  nothing. 
For  such  a  record  they  should  fear.  But  well  may  they  hope  if,  on  the 
contrary,  they  have  clung  to  resolutions  even  amid  many  saddening  fail- 
ures ;  if  they  have  remembered  old  promises  and  striven  to  keep  them ; 


FATHER  RYAN. 


368 


if,  albeit  on  a  lowly  level,  they  have  walked  bravely  on,  and  have  made 
some  progress,  all  too  little  though  it  seems,  in  the  way  that  leads  to 
God.  Let  such  souls  take  courage — God  will  make  perfect  their  imper- 
fect work,  He  will  come  to  meet  them  on  the  way,  and  will  Himself  bear 
them  to  their  journey's  end.  They  are  doing  their  part,  and  they  are 
asked  to  do  no  more. 

But  then,  brethren,  there  is  God's  part — His  final  mercy  that  alone 
can  keep  souls  faithful  to  the  end.  How  may  we  gain  this  ?  How  in- 
duce God  to  give  us  the  grace  of  final  perseverance  ? 

Ask,  and  you  shall  receive.  Ask.  Pray  every  day  of  your  lives  for  final 
perseverance.  Ask,  pray:  young  and  old,  pure  souls,  penitent  souls,  ask 
that  you  may  persevere,  pray  for  final  perseverance.  Pray  to  God  that, 
when  by  His  grace  you  have  done  your  part,  He  would  do  His,  and  finish 
the  work.  You  tremble  to  think  that  you  cannot  know  whether  you 
shall  persevere  and  be  saved,  or  fall  away  and  be  lost.  With  fear  and 
trembling  indeed  you  work  out  your  salvation,  but  with  hope  and  con- 
fidence, too,  for  you  know  your  loving  Master  will  not  refuse  you  if  you 
continue  faithful  in  your  prayer.  Let  us  pray,  in  the  beautiful  words  of 
the  Church,  that  He  who  has  begun  by  His  grace  everything  of  good 
that  is  in  us,  may  by  that  same  grace  help  us  to  do  our  part  through  life, 
and  may  Himself  complete  all  by  that  crowning  grace  beyond  any  merits 
of  ours — the  grace  of  Final  Perseverance,  or,  as  we  love  to  call  it,  the 
grace  of  a  Happy  Death. 

"  Prevent,  we  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord,  our  actions  by  Thy  holy  inspira- 
tions, and  carry  them  on  by  Thy  gracious  assistance,  that  every  prayer 
and  work  of  ours  may  always  begin  from  Thee,  and  by  Thee  be  happily 
ended.     Amen." 


REVEREND   D.   A.   MERRICK,   S.J. 


The  Sermons  herewith  presented  are  selections  from  a  course  entitled 
**  Sermons  for  the  Times,"  delivered  by  Reverend  D.  A.  Merrick,  SJ., 
within  the  period  of  a  year,  at  St.  Francis  Xavier's  Church,  New  York. 


(365) 


®nv  ©ttlij  §topc. 


ON   ATTACHMENT  TO   PRINCIPLES  OF   FAITH. 

■  My  just  man  liveth  by  faith  ;  but  if  he  withdraw  himself,  My  soul  shall  not  delight 
in  him.  But  we  are  not  of  those  who  withdraw  unto  perdition,  but  of  those 
who  have  faith  for  the  saving  of  the  soul." — Heb.  x.  38,  39. 

N  this  text  the  Apostle  marks  the  distinction  between  the 
merely  natural  and  the  supernatural  man.  The  supernatural 
man  lives  by  faith ;  faith  is  the  principle  of  his  spiritual  life. 
But  the  mere  natural  man  knows  nothing  of  the  things  of 
faith.  The  land  of  faith  is  for  him  a  region  lost  in  the  clouds  and  beyond 
his  intellectual  ken  ;  its  language  is  unintelligible  to  him.  Now,  my  dear 
brethren,  we  are  living  to-day  in  the  midst  of  a  world  made  up  of  purely 
natural  men.  The  heretics  of  three  hundred  years  ago  talked  a  great  deal 
about  faith.  They  made  much  of  it, — too  much  of  it ;  they  said  that  man 
was  justified  by  faith  alone,  without  good  works,  and  they  repeated  after 
the  Apostle,  with  energy,  that  without  faith  it  was  impossible  to  be  saved. 
True,  what  they  understood  by  faith  was  something  very  odd,  namely,  an 
interior  assurance  of  being  justified,  but,  whatever  it  might  be,  they  be- 
lieved that  it  was  a  supernatural  gift.  Their  descendants  have  rejected 
those  old  notions.  They  care  ver>'  little  about  faith,  or  about  assurances 
of  being  justified.  Works  are  all  they  ask  for ;  and  they  do  not  require 
that  these  should  be  supernatural.  "  Provided  a  man  be  a  good  man," 
they  say,  "  it  matters  ver>'  little  what  he  believes."  "  I  believe  that  all 
religions  are  equally  good,  and  that  the  best  man  is  the  man  who  does 
not  rob  or  injure  his  neighbor."  This  way  of  talking  does  not  prevent 
them  from  robbing  and  stealing  from  their  neighbors.  But  to  this  way 
of  talking  and  thinking,  and  to  the  ways  of  acting  which  are  the  sequence 
of  it,  has  the  Protestantism  of  Martin  Luther  and  of  the  stem  Calvin,  by 
a  strange  wheeling  round  from  one  extreme  to  another,  in  our  time  come. 
Religious  indifference,  naturalism,  rationalism,  scepticism,  a  general  divi- 
sion of  the  natural  order  of  things  from  the  supernatural  order,  have  been 
the  final  result  of  the  working  of  the  principles  of  those  men  so  much 
praised  as  the  champions  and  pioneers  of  freedom  of  thought  by  the  in- 
fidels and  free-thinkers  of  the  present  day.  Even  those  who  still  profess 
to  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  supernatural  state,  eliminate  all  considera- 
tion of  it  from  the  practical  concerns  of  life.     The  current  maxims  of  the 

(367) 


368  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

day  are  that  society,  government,  should  exist  independently  of  religion ; 
— and  so  they  do.  Education  without  religion  ;  in  the  family  indifference 
to  religion — or,  as  an  English  Prime  Minister,  condescending  to  become 
again  a  writer  of  romance,  expresses  it,  religion  without  "  orthodoxy,"  is 
what  people  want,  and  what  they  have.  The  consequence  is  that,  possess- 
ing no  longer  the  loadstar  of  faith  to  guide  them,  we  find  men — and  wom- 
en— in  every  realm  of  thought,  propounding  the  most  wildly  radical  and 
subversive  theories,  perhaps  some  of  them  in  the  sincere  desire  to  carry 
out  logically  what  principles  they  have  adopted,  and  to  spread  the  reign 
of  truth  as  understood  by  themselves.  But  the  material,  no  more  than 
the  natural,  man  can  understand  the  things  of  God,  and  only  extravagance 
and  confusion  may  be  expected  of  those  who  have  abandoned  the  certain 
light  of  revelation  to  grope  in  the  dark  regions  of  unbelief. 

Such  is  the  world  which  surrounds  us — a  world  of  chaos ;  and  all  who 
compose  it  are  not  good.  It  is  a  bad  world,  a  lying,  rebellious  world,  at 
enmity  with  God.  The  world  never  could,  above  all  the  world  as  it  now 
is  never  can,  be  the  friend  of  Christ.  It  is  antichrist.  It  does  not  love 
the  truth.  It  possesses  not  the  truth,  it  sympathizes  not  with  the  truth, 
but  with  falsehood.  Principle  is  not  what  it  cares  for ;  success  is  the 
measure  of  its  praise.  It  calls  virtue  vice,  and  vice  it  calls  virtue.  The 
servitude  of  crime  and  anarchy  and  despotism  it  calls  liberty,  and  true  lib- 
erty it  calls  oppression.  Robbers  it  calls  liberators,  and  the  generous  de- 
fenders of  most  sacred  right  it  stigmatizes  by  the  name  of  mercenary.  Its 
newspapers,  its  orators,  its  politicians,  its  books  on  history  and  science, 
are  all  leagued  in  this  great  conspiracy  against  truth,  and  immorality  is 
made  the  willing  instrument  for  the  propagation  and  defense  of  incredu- 
lity. And  the  multitude — the  multitude  which  is  made  up  of  those  many 
heads  which  think  little  and  believe  a  great  deal — repeats  the  echoes  of 
all  these  reverberating  voices.  This  is  the  world  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  live ;  and  in  this  world  of  infidelity,  of  ignorance,  of  falsehood,  and  of 
misrepresentation,  the  Catholic  must  stand  his  ground.  No  human  re- 
spect, no  pressure  of  the  crowd,  no  speciousness  of  reasoning,  must  cause 
him  to  waver  in  his  attachment,  not  only  to  his  faith,  but  to  those  con- 
clusions which  he  knows  to  follow  logically  from  his  principles  of  faith. 
He  must  be  firm  and  consistent.  For  no  man  deserves  the  name  of  a 
true,  staunch  Catholic  who  sympathizes  with  a  world  of  which  the  first 
instinct  is  opposition  to  his  religion  and  its  holy  law.  Yet  there  is  great 
danger  of  this  sympathy  existing  among  us.  For  it  is  hard  to  be  at  con- 
stant variance  with  all  those  who  are  round  about  us.  It  is  hard — very 
hard  in  practice — not  to  be  affected  by  prevailing  modes  of  thought.  It 
is  hard  to  be  called  a  slave  in  mind,  to  be  told  that  one  is  behind  the  age, 
to  be  jeered  at  as  superstitious.     There  is  no  cause  of  wonder,  then,  if  we 


FATHER  MERRICK.  369 

find  the  greatest  danger  for  our  young  Catholic  men  and  women,  espe- 
cially the  more  educated  ones,  at  the  present  time,  to  be  that  of  losing 
their  attachment  to  the  legitimate  conclusions  of  their  principles  of  faith. 
A  great  danger  this  is,  indeed  ;  for  it  is  the  remote  beginning  of  final  scep- 
ticism and  unbelief.  The  poor,  as  a  general  rule,- will  keep  their  faith 
well  enough :  they  value  it  as  their  greatest  treasure,  and  they  will 
not  quarrel  about  its  most  remote  conclusions.  The  simple-minded  are 
not  inclined  to  be  incredulous.  Intellectual  pride  is  what  generates  the 
disposition  to  scepticism  and  doubt.  The  danger  is,  therefore,  principally 
for  the  rich,  who  have  not  received  the  blessing  which  God  has  granted 
to  the  poor,  who  attach  themselves  easily  and  naturally  to  this  world, 
because  they  see  and  enjoy  its  sensible,  pleasant  side.  And  the  same 
danger  exists  proportionally  for  all  who  are  more  or  less  well-to-do. 
For  it  is  a  fact  proved  by  history  that  evil  mental  influences  begin  to  ex- 
ercise themselves  first  upon  the  higher  classes  of  society,  and  from  these 
descend  gradually  down  to  the  lowest  ranks.  But  in  a  country  like  ours, 
where  the  divisions  in  the  social  circle  are  not  strictly  marked,  where 
what  is  called  a  common  education  is  almost  universal,  and  where,  either 
by  conversation  or  by  the  reading  of  newspapers,  that  great  medium  for 
the  communication  of  "  notions,"  the  floating  ideas  of  the  day  are  con- 
veyed to  the  minds  of  nearly  all  persons,  almost  all  classes  of  Catholics 
are  immediately  exposed  to  the  danger  of  losing  their  attachment  for  the 
teachings  flowing  from  their  principles  of  faith. 

Unfortunately  not  only  this  danger,  but  a  real  want  of  attachment  to 
the  conclusions  to  be  drawn  from  Catholic  principles,  exists.  How  often 
in  a  large  city  like  ours,  do  we  hear  such  declarations  as  these :  "  Father, 
I  have  a  great  many  Protestant  ideas ;  living  among  Protestants,  you 
know."  "  There  are  a  great  many  things  in  the  Church  I  don't  under- 
stand ;  don't  be  surprised  if  I  am  half  a  Protestant."  And  indeed  how 
many  Protestant,  or  liberal,  or  rather  irreligious,  notions  are  lodged  in 
Catholic  heads !  How  many  opinions  which,  if  developed,  would  become 
rank  heresies,  are  grafted  on  branches  that  ought  to  be  fed  with  nothing 
but  Catholic  sap  !  How  much  loose  thought  abounds !  how  much  want 
of  thought !  and  how  much  want  of  principle !  how  much  timidity,  how 
much  human  respect,  how  much  fear  of  men,  and  blind  following  of  the 
talkers  and  scribblers  of  the  day !  How  prone  we  find  Catholics  to 
accept  the  most  liberal  views  on  every  subject  they  can  hold  within  the 
pale  of  the  Church  !  How  they  dislike  their  liberty  in  this  respect  to  be 
restricted  !  How  instinctively  they  join  the  opposition  party,  and  sym- 
pathize with  whatever  is  least  ultra-Catholic,  and  especially  least  ultra- 
Roman,  in  the  Church  !  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  world  all  out.  A  man 
may  not  be  known  to  us  to  be  a  greater  man  than  any  other :  he  becomes 


370  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  champion  of  some  liberal  principle  or  platform,  and  behold  he  is 
made  for  us  a  hero  and  a  giant.  A  theory  is  propounded  about  which  we 
understand  little  or  nothing:  we — the  men,  and  especially  the  women — 
attach  ourselves  nevertheless  passionately  to  it,  because  it  has  the  favor 
of  the  world  and  is  the  fashion  of  the  hour.  An  obscure  point  in  history 
is  mooted  for  discussion :  we  all  take  sides  unreservedly  on  the  matter, 
as  though  we  had  been  rummaging  in  folios.  And  thus  those  sympathies 
of  our  nature  which  were  given  by  God  to  follow  principle,  and  by  acting 
on  the  heart  to  elevate  us  to  the  performance  of  grfeat  deeds  of  sacrifice, 
are  perverted,  thrown  away  unworthily,  and  made  the  servants  of  error 
in  its  war  against  truth.  To  sympathize  with  everybody's  or  anybody's 
dreams  who  may  be  applauded  by  the  world  because  he  is  thought  to  be 
an  opponent  of  the  Church,  is  a  moral  cowardice,  the  existence  of  which 
proves  that  all  within  the  body  of  the  Church  are  not  free  from  worldly 
fear  and  the  base  servitude  of  public  opinion. 

I  say  that  there  has  been  growing  of  late  years  in  the  Catholic  body — 
and  it  is  the  danger  of  the  times — a  sympathy  for  the  current  errors  of 
the  day.  The  disease  exists  everywhere,  and  its  marks  are  to  be  found 
in  America  as  well  as  beyond  the  Atlantic.  The  errors  of  our  day  do  not 
attack  directly  the  prominent  points  of  Catholic  doctrine.  Catholics  are 
not  exercised  therefore  immediately  about  their  principles  of  faith  them- 
selves, or  the  clearly  defined  dogmas  of  revelation  which  they  have  been 
taught  in  their  Catechism.  It  is  rather  on  not  yet  defined  points  that  we 
are  loose.  The  field  of  battle  is  all  that  great  border-ground  lying  be- 
tween the  domains  of  faith  and  of  pure  reason, — all  that  range  of  complex 
questions  contained  in  philosophy,  politics,  history,  science.  For  which 
cause  it  has  been  justly  said  that  the  contest  between  the  Church  and  the 
world  at  the  present  day,  between  truth  and  error,  is  more  philosophical 
than  theological.  Not  that  faith  fears,  or  ought  to  fear,  reason,  since 
reason  rightly  exercised  can  never  be  opposed  to  faith.  But  it  is  the 
office  of  faith  to  prescribe  the  limits  beyond  which  the  investigations  of 
reason  cannot  go.  The  more  soundly  reasonable  a  man  will  in  truth  be, 
the  more  willingly  he  will  allow  his  mind  to  be  directed  in  its  researches 
by  the  guiding  light  of  faith.  But  all  men  are  not  reasonable,  and  the 
spirit  of  our  day  is  not  a  truly  reasonable  spirit :  it  will  not  submit  to  be 
controlled,  and  has  proclaimed  its  emancipation  from  all  subjection  to 
any  supernatural  principle  of  belief;  and  herein  lies  the  difficulty,  hence 
comes  the  clash.  The  license  of  the  mind  which  burst  forth  in  Europe  at 
the  Protestant  Reformation,  has  now  swept  over  the  earth  like  an  ocean- 
current,  and  we  are  all  in  danger  of  being  swallowed  up  in  its  devouring 
wave. 

How  are  we  to  preserve  ourselves  from  this  misfortune?     How  are 


FATHER  MERRICK.  371 

we  to  preserve  ourselves  from  being  infected  with  the  disease  of  the 
times?  How  are  we  to  enable  ourselves  to  stand  firm,  soundly  Catholic, 
bark  and  core,  in  the  midst  of  an  atmosphere  where  so  many  insidious 
evil  influences  are  breathing  on  us  from  every  side  ?  By  working  at  the 
root.  "  The  beginning,  the  foundation,  and  the  root  of  all  our  justifica- 
tion is  faith^'  says  the  Council  of  Trent.  It  is  because  our  faith  is  weak 
that  our  hearts  are  faint.  Faith,  a  strong  faith,  is  the  remedy  for  all  our 
infirmities.  "  This  is  the  victory  which  overcomes  the  world,"  says  the 
Apostle  St.  John,  "  our  Faith."  Had  we  the  faith  of  our  heroic  ances- 
tors, a  spirit  of  opposition  would  spring  up  in  our  breast,  not  to  that 
which  is  true  and  lawful,  but  to  that  which  is  wrong  and  false,  against 
the  present  enemies  approaching  the  ramparts  of  our  religion.  We 
would  discover  and  recognize  them  from  afar,  we  would  discern  their 
nature,  their  workings,  and  their  purpose.  For  faith  is  a  light.  Not  only 
is  it  "  the  evidence  of  things  which  are  not  seen,"  but  it  throws  the  light 
of  its  evidence  on  all  things  around  it ;  and  they  who  walk  in  the  light  of 
that  faith  will  seldom  be  deceived  in  judging  of  and  recognizing  the  true 
directions  of  the  clouds  of  error  which  are  blown  across  their  path.  And 
it  is  the  "  substance,"  that  is,  the  solid  assurance,  *'  of  things  to  be  hoped 
for."  Those  whose  hearts  are  filled  with  that  assurance,  so  as  really  to 
value  the  things  of  this  world  as  nothing  compared  to  the  future  glory 
which  awaits  their  hope,  they  will  never  cringe  or  fawn  before  mere 
human  opinion,  they  will  not  blind  their  eyes  or  retreat  before  a  principle 
of  error :  they  will  rather  go  forth  to  meet  it  at  the  outposts  of  their 
citadel  of  faith.  They  will  not  be  the  soldiers  to  allow  that  citadel  itself 
to  be  endangered,  or  permit  the  walls  of  their  hearts  to  be  sapped  by 
negligence  or  by  conniving  with  the  sentinels  of  the  hostile  army.  With 
them  war  must  be  waged  to  the  knife  for  every  line  of  territory  to  which 
their  sacred  Faith  has  the  right  to  prefer  a  claim. 

But  faith  is  also  a  gift  of  God,  something  not  only  to  be  cherished 
when  possessed,  but  to  be  asked  for  that  it  may  increase  and  grow  in  us. 
This  we  cannot  do,  at  least  earnestly,  unless  we  appreciate  it.  No  one 
will  greatly  desire,  certainly  cannot  deserve  to  obtain,  what  he  prizes 
little.  If,  then,  yielding  to  the  influence  of  the  spirit  of  our  age,  all  given 
over  to  sensible  and  material  interests,  we  begin  to  neglect  the  things  of 
God,  we  cease  to  appreciate  our  faith,  or  to  care  practically  for  it,  what 
may  we  expect  ?  Not  only  that  faith  will  not  grow  in  us,  but  that  it  will 
diminish,  and  perhaps  altogether  die  out  in  our  hearts,  which  would  be 
the  last  of  calamities.  For  sad  indeed  it  would  be  for  us,  even  in  the 
natural  order,  if  by  our  fault  we  were  to  lose  that  gift  of  faith,  our  one 
true  consolation  in  the  hour  of  sorrow,  when  false  philosophy  or  the  ap- 
plause of  the  world  can  give  but  grim  satisfaction,  our  one  sweet  drop  in 


372  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  cup  of  adversity,  our  one  bright  ray  in  the  storm  of  affliction, — as  it 
is  the  anchor  of  safety  too  in  worldly  success.  Heroic  deeds  have  been 
at  times  accomplished  under  the  impulse  of  natural  virtues,  as  friendship, 
filial  piety,  love  of  country ;  but  the  spring  and  principle  of  the  most 
glorious  feats  of  valor  and  endurance  performed  by  human  courage,  have 
in  all  history  been  a  great  religious  faith.  To  their  faith  St.  Paul  ascribes 
all  the  merits  of  the  Saints  of  old.  "  By  faith  Abel  offered  to  God  a 
more  excellent  sacrifice  than  Cain,  by  which  he  obtained  testimony  that 
he  was  just.     By  faith  Henoch  was  translated  that  he  should  not  see 

death By  faith  Noe,  being  divinely  instructed,  prepared  an  ark 

whereby  he  condemned  the  world,  and  was  made  heir  of  the  justice 
which  is  by  faith.  By  faith  he  who  is  called  Abraham  obeyed  to  go 
forth  to  the  place  which  he  was  to  receive  for  an  inheritance,  not  know- 
ing whither  he  was  going ;  for  he  looked  for  the  city  of  which  God  is 
architect  and  builder.  Through  faith  also  Sara  herself,  being  barren  got 
strength  to  conceive,  even  when  she  was  past  age By  faith  Abra- 
ham, when  he  was  tried,  offered  up  Isaac,  his  only-begotten.  By  faith 
also  Isaac  blessed  Jacob  and  Esau  concerning  things  to  come.     By  faith 

Jacob,  when  dying,  blessed  each  of  the  sons  of  Joseph By  faith 

Moses,  when  he  was  grown  up,  refused  to  be  called  the  son  of  the 
daughter  of  Pharaoh,  choosing  rather  to  be  afflicted  with  the  people  of 
God  than  to  have  the  pleasure  of  sin  for  a  time,  esteeming  the  reproach 
of  the  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasure  of  the  Egyptians ;  for  he 
looked  to  the  reward.  By  faith  he  left  Egypt,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of 
kings ;  for  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible  he  endured.     By  faith  they 

passed  through  the  Red  Sea  as  on  dry  land By  faith  the  walls  of 

Jericho  fell  down But  what  more  shall  I  say?  ....  of  the  proph- 
ets, who  through  faith  conquered  kingdoms,  wrought  justice,  obtained 
promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  raging  fire,  escaped 
the  edge  of  the  sword,  grew  strong  from  infirmity,  were  mighty  in  battle, 
put  to  flight  the  armies  of  strangers?  Women  received  their  dead  re- 
stored to  life :  but  some  were  tormented,  not  accepting  deliverance,  that 
they  might  receive  a  better  resurrection :  and  others  had  trial  of  mockings 
and  stripes,  moreover  also  chains  and  prisons.  They  were  stoned,  were 
sawn  asunder,  were  tempted,  were  slain  by  the  sword,  wandering  about 
in  sheepskins,  in  goatskins,  needy,  straitened,  afflicted  ;  of  whom  the 
world  was  not  worthy :  they  wandered  in  deserts,  on  mountains,  and 
dens,  and  in  caverns  of  the  earth  ....  all  these  commended  for  their 
faith  "(Heb.xi.). 

Such  were  the  saints  of  old,  lauded  by  the  Apostle  for  their  faith. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  such  men  as  they  compromising  with  the  world : 
imagine  them  swerving  from  their  principles  of  truth  in  order  to  gain  the 


FATHER  MERRICK.  373 

favor  of  men.  How  could  they  who  "  bore  up  with  the  Invisible  One  as 
though  they  saw  Him,"  in  whom  faith  had  become  an  intimate  portion  of 
their  very  existence,  who  "lived  by  faith,"  for  whom  the  things  they  knew  by 
the  light  of  revelation  were  more  certain  than  the  things  they  knew  by  the 
light  of  reason, — they  who  had  set  their  affections,  not  upon  the  goods  of 
this  world,  but  upon  a  greater  recompense  for  which  they  longed ;  how 
could  they  sacrifice  the  least  probability  made  known  to  them  by  their 
light  of  faith,  to  please  a  world  which  they  despised  ?  they  whose  hearts 
were  lifted  up  so  high,  and  who  yearned  only  for  the  day  when  the  mists 
of  earthly  reason  should  be  dispelled  before  the  effulgence  of  light  eternal 
in  heaven  ?  And  after  them  came  that  swelling  crowd  of  martyrs,  virgins, 
saints  of  the  Christian  Church,  who  were  sanctified  by  faith,  little  children, 
old  men,  and  women,  fortified  till  they  became  heroes  by  faith.  All  that 
is  glorious  in  Christendom  owes  its  existence  to  Catholic  faith.  By  that 
faith  the  world  was  civilized,  and  taught  that  true  refinement  which  co- 
exists only  with  Christian  charity  founded  on  Christian  faith.  By  that 
faith  Europe  was  made  one  great  polity,  its  art  and  literature  were  devel- 
oped ;  and  by  faith  it  was  preserved  from  falling  back  into  barbarism, 
when  the  Christian  races  of  the  West  poured  into  the  Holy  Land  to  re- 
sist the  approach  of  the  coming  torrent  of  Mohammedanism,  and  deliver 
from  profanation  the  sepulchre  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind. 

We  are  the  descendants  of  those  races;  we  are  the  descendants  of 
those  forefathers.  Transplanted  to  a  new  world,  shall  the  faith  which 
flourished  in  their  hearts  die  out  on  a  fresh  soil  ?  or  shall  it  take  new  root 
and  a  more  vigorous  growth?  By  God's  providence  we  hope  it  will. 
For  why  should  it  not  ?  But  then  we  must  protect,  fortify  it  in  ourselves, 
and  fence  it  round  with  a  wall,  that  we  may  transmit  it  safely  to  our  chil- 
dren. God  had  a  vineyard,  which  He  planted  "  with  the  choicest  vines," 
^'  and  He  fenced  it  in  and  picked  the  stones  out  of  it,  and  built  a  tower  in  the 
midst  thereof."  If  we  wish  life  to  remain  in  our  vine  of  faith,  which  will 
produce  choice  wine  and  fruit  of  virtue,  we  must  carefully  watch  over  it 
and  guard  it.  Otherwise  what  was  said  of  Jerusalem  will  become  true  of 
us:  "And  now,  O  ye  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  and  ye  men  of  Juda, 
judge  between  me  and  my  vineyard.  What  is  there  that  I  ought  to 
do  now  to  my  vineyard  that  I  have  not  done  to  it?  was  it  that  I 
looked  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes,  and  it  hath  brought  forth 
wild  grapes  ?  And  now  I  will  show  you  what  I  will  do  to  my  vineyard. 
I  will  take  away  the  hedge  thereof,  and  it  shall  be  wasted :  I  will  break 
down  the  wall  thereof,  and  it  shall  be  trodden  down.  And  I  will  make 
it  desolate :  it  shall  not  be  pruned  and  it  shall  not  be  digged :  but  briers 
and  thorns  shall  come  up :  and  I  will  command  the  clouds  to  rain  no  rain 
upon  it."     But  let  us  \*alue  the  gift  of  faith,  that  "  gift  of  God,  through  " 


374  DISCO UJiSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

which  "  by  grace,  we  are  saved  ";  let  us  prize  it,  be  jealous  of  it,  proud  of 
it,  as  our  inheritance,  the  inheritance  of  centuries,  as  our  greatest  treasure, 
and  then  we  shall  not  need  to  fear  the  seductions  of  error.  Then  it  will 
suffice  for  us  to  know  that  our  faith  is  in  danger  to  be  put  on  the  alarm. 
We  will  not  cry  out  fire  only  when  our  house  is  burning.  We  will  not 
behave  like  those  armies  which  neglect  to  throw  out  scouts,  and  wait  till 
they  are  attacked  in  flank  by  enemies  issuing  from  the  woods.  But  acting 
unfearingly,  consistently,  distinguishing  between  the  charity  due  to  the 
erring  and  the  hatred  due  to  error,  knowing  that  truth  must  finally  pre- 
vail, loving  the  truth,  God's  truth,  the  truth  only,  the  truth  which  will 
make  us  truly  free,  we  shall  prove  ourselves  true  children  of'  faith ;  not 
timid  Christians — incompatible  words  ! — not  lovers  of  the  world,  but 
emulators  of  our  Christian  ancestors,  who  accept  willingly  all  the  legiti- 
mate conclusions  of  the  principles  in  which  they  believe,  and  cling  to  the 
instincts  which  they  generate,  who  serve  God  as  their  master,  and  rejoice 
the  oftener  they  are  able  to  make  to  Him  the  noblest  sacrifice  in  their 
power,  the  submission  of  their  reason  and  their  heart.  Our  battle  of  to- 
day is  not  the  same  as  when  our  fathers  suffered  for  their  religion,  or 
rather  it  is  the  same  battle,  but  under  another  form.  "  God  does  not  ask 
of  you  blood,"  says  St.  Cyprian,  in  words  we  may  apply  to  ourselves,  "  but 
faith."  That  faith  will  work  the  same  results  in  us  which  it  did  in  those 
who  have  gone  before  us,  and  by  our  fidelity  to  it  we  shall  conquer  the 
world  ;  "  this  is  the  victory  which  hath  overcome  the  world,  your  faith  ": 
we  shall  gain  the  respect  of  the  very  men  of  the  world,  we  shall  have 
done  our  part  toward  accomplishing  the  great  duty  of  the  conversion  of 
this  great  land,  and  when  our  own  course  shall  have  been  run,  we  will  leave 
to  our  children  the  most  precious  legacy  that  parent  can  transmit  to  child, 
the  incomparable  jewel  of  Catholic  faith. 

Our  divine  Lord  asked  for  this  faith  when  He  was  on  earth.  "  Do 
you  believe?"  He  inquired  of  those  who  came  to  Him  for  miracles; 
"  all  things  are  possible  to  him  who  believes."  "  O  ye  of  little  faith,  why 
do  ye  doubt  ? "  But  He  foretold  that  there  should  come  a  time  when 
the  charity  of  men  will  grow  cold  because  they  shall  have  lost  the  faith, 
or  faith  shall  have  diminished  in  them.  "  The  Son  of  Man  when  He 
Cometh,"  says  He,  "  shall  He  find,  think  you,  faith  on  the  earth  ?  "  We 
are  approaching  those  times.  Everything  indicates  it.  Faith  is  dis- 
appearing from  the  earth.  Nations  that  were  renowned  for  their  faith 
have  lost  it.  It  has  been  lost  to  Asia ;  it  has  been  lost  to  Africa ;  it  has 
been  lost  to  Northern  Europe.  Now  there  is  danger  of  a  general 
defection  from  the  faith.  It  is  the  danger  of  our  future.  And  the  danger 
is  one  that  works  insidiously.  Those  who  still  believe  are  walking  over 
a  ground  all  sapped  and  mined  in  every  direction,  where  they  can  step 


FATHER  MERRICK. 


3Y6 


never  too  carefully.  For  what  has  happened  to  the  Christian  nations  of 
old  may  happen  also  to  us.  How  indeed  did  those  nations  lose  the  faith  ? 
If  we  study  the  history  of  the  early  Christian  Church,  of  the  Protestant 
Reformation,  of  the  infidelity  which  brought  on  the  French  Revolution, 
we  shall  find  that  the  first  drift  in  the  way  of  ruin  and  shipwreck  was  the 
introduction  of  a  false  philosophy,  of  false  theories,  false  systems,  false 
social  principles,  contrary  to  the  principles  of  faith, — a  neglect  to  guard 
the  outposts  of  the  faith ;  and  this  at  a  time  of  much  social  corruption, 
of  attachment  to  the  earth,  or  at  least  to  the  things  of  the  earth,  to  the 
comforts,  pride,  possessions,  goods,  vanities  of  this  life,  the  love  of  the 
world ; — we  shall  find  that  this  was  what  brought  on  those  generations 
that  last  terrible  of  chastisements,  the  loss  of  faith.  And  when  was  there^ 
ever,  pray,  so  universal  a  deluge  of  false  principles  as  at  the  present  day? 
When  was  there  ever  so  general  an  attachment  to  the  goods  of  the  earth 
as  at  the  present  time  ?  The  same  dangers  therefore  await  us  as  awaited 
those  nations ;  not  perhaps  the  nations  as  such,  who  have  no  longer  any 
faith  to  lose,  but  the  individuals  and  families.  For  the  same  dangers 
which  exist  for  nations,  exist  for  individuals  and  for  families.  God 
rewards  and  punishes  families  as  He  rewards  and  chastises  nations.  The 
individual  Christian  then  who  would  preserve  his  faith  and  leave  it  as  an 
heirloom  to  his  children,  must  be  careful  and  jealous  of  preserving  it  in 
himself  in  its  integrity. 

Let  us  therefore  cling  to  our  faith,  and  watch  jealously  over  the  ap- 
proaches to  our  faith.  Let  us  come  out  from' the  world.  Let  us  walk  in 
the  midst  of  an  unbelieving  generation  like  Moses,  who  "  esteemed  the 
reproaches  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasure  of  the  Egyptians," 
because  "  he  looked  forward  to  the  recompense."  Everything  passes 
away,  my  dear  friends ;  empires  pass  away ;  we  shall  pass  away  ; — faith 
itself  shall  disappear,  but  that  will  be  when  it  shall  have  dissolved  into 
the  clear  vision  "  face  to  face  "  of  Him  who  is  to  be  our  great  reward,  the 
God  in  whom,  and  on  whose  word,  we  believe. 


•      ON   THE  CHURCH   AND  THE  AGE. 

"  Thou  art  Peter,  and  on  this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church,  and  the  gates  of  Hell 
shall  not  prevail  against  it." — Matth,  xvi.  i8. 

URS  is  an  age  of  incredulity, — not  altogether  as  the  last 
century,  impious  and  scoffing, — but  one  rather  of  fair,  open, 
candid  unbelief.  Its  character  is  that  of  the  age  of  the  old 
Greek  philosophers  under  the  Roman  Empire,  when  all 
systems  of  Idolatry  and  Philosophy  having  been  tried  and  found  wanting, 
there  only  remained  a  simple  scepticism.  The  unbelief  of  the  present 
day,  though  dignified  and  disguised  by  other  titles,  is  also  a  simple 
religious  scepticism,  which  explains  nothing,  and  cannot  be  brought 
into  consistency  with  any  kind  of  fixed  faith.  Just  as  the  essence  of 
Protestantism,  of  which  it  is  the  last  legitimate  result,  consisted  in 
the  mere  negation  of  authority  in  the  Church,  so  the  essence  of  this 
Philosophy  consists  in  the  negation  of  certitude  in  Religion.  Take  up 
the  writings  of  those  who  are  considered  the  leaders  and  representatives 
of  current  thought :  you  will  find  them  all,  supposing,  taking  for  granted, 
the  non-existence  of  any  certain  religion.  With  a  pretty  fair  statement  of 
facts,  so  far  as  these  are  concerned,  they  discuss  the  rites,  the  observances, 
the  conduct,  of  the  ministers  of  the  different  forms  of  religious  worship, 
but  as  from  on  high,  with  a  peculiar  lofty  pretension  of  impartiality,  and 
in  that  tone  of  speculative  indifference  which  becomes  minds  elevated 
above  the  influences  of  popular  credulity.  These  men  do  sometimes 
render  us  a  service  by  their  critical  fidelity  and  research,  but  this  only 
renders  them  the  more  dangerous,  on  account  of  the  quiet  assumption 
with  which  they  explain  away  all  facts,  so  as  to  render  unnecessary  faith 
in  any  dogmatic  teaching. 

To  the  educated  classes  especially;  for  the  mind  of  intellectual 
persons  is  most  exposed  to  the  temptation  of  scepticism.  "  Knowledge 
inflates,"  says  St.  Paul :  not  only  that,  but  knowledge,  by  sharpening  the 
intelligence,  by  teaching  not  to  receive  all  things  on  credit,  begets  a 
spirit  of  inquiry  and  examination,  which  we  easily  transfer  to  the  spiritual 
order  of  things.  Above  all,  half-knowledge  is  dangerous  on  this  account ; 
for  to  the  half-instructed  man  many  things  suggest  doubts,  which,  on 
account  of  his  want  of  a  complete  comprehension  of  their  nature  and 
relations,  he  is  unable  to  solve.  Now  as  all  men  at  the  present  day  are 
(376) 


FATHER  MERRICK.  377 

more  or  less  half-educated,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  spirit  of  doubt  as  to 
any  real  dogmatic  Christianity  should  be  generally  prevalent,  and  the 
simple  denial  of  all  positive  religion  have  become  the  easy  conclusion  of 
all  those  souls  which  grace  has  not  stirred  up  to  the  necessity  of  making 
sure  their  future  salvation. 

The  world  has  decided  accordingly  that  there  is  no  certain  truth. 
What  must  be  its  attitude  then  toward  any  institution  which  puts  itself 
forward  as  the  organ  of  THE  TRUTH  ?  One  of  hostility  necessarily.  Is 
there  such  an  institution  ?  There  is ; — the  Church.  The  Church  and  the 
19th  century  therefore  are  enemies.  The  world  of  to-day  does  not  admit 
any  Truth ;  it  does  not  want  any  exponent  of  the  Truth.  The  world  and 
all  that  are  of  the  world  agree  to  say  there  is  no  one  truth ;  and  here  is 
the  Church  which  dares  to  declare  that  there  is — but — one  truth,  and  that 
is  the  doctrine  she,  alone,  imparts.  Therefore  the  world  must  hate  the 
Church.  For  let  the  world  put  on  what  garb  of  impartiality  it  will, 
it  knows  that  it  and  the  Church  are  foes ;  and  he  who  is  the  Prince  of 
this  world,  above  all  knows  that  she  is  his  foe,  and  destined  to  crush  his 
head. 

And  yet  when  did  the  world  ever  stand  in  greater  need  of  the  Church  ? 
For  to  what  are  we  tending  ?  What  is  to  be  the  end  of  all  this  unbelief? 
It  is  not  difficult  to  foresee.  "  Coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before." 
What  is  the  state  of  society?  is  it  settled?  It  is  settled  here,  you  will 
say.  It  is,  because  we  have  elbow-room,  our  country  is  not  yet  popu- 
lated ;  but  it  will  be  populated  rapidly ;  we  are  a  fast  people,  and  soon 
we  shall  have  our  problems  to  solve  as  well  as  civilized  Europe.  And 
what  is  the  condition  of  that  Europe,  a  condition  in  which  we  must  par- 
ticipate to  a  certain  degree  ?  What  social  problems !  Is  democracy,  or 
despotism,  or  anarchy,  to  reign  ?  How  is  this  struggle  between  king  and 
people,  between  order  and  disorder,  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  be- 
tween capital  and  labor,  to  end  ?  This  struggle,  which  began  with  Prot- 
estantism, is  apparently  drawing  to  its  close,  but  a  close  which  must  first 
be  determined  as  the  result  of  a  last  terrific  battle.  What  that  result  will 
be  no  prophet  is  necessary  to  foretell, — a  despotism  such  as  the  world 
has  never  known  till  now.  Will  that  be  the  rule  of  Anti-Christ  ?  There 
is  nothing  absurd  or  improbable  in  the  supposition.  For  in  all  probability 
it  will  be  the  reign  of  one  who  will  be  an  enemy  of  Christ.  The  dispari- 
tion  of  faith  from  the  earth,  the  increasing  hostility  of  the  masses  to  neces- 
sary social  order,  the  multiplication  of  infernal  machines  of  war,  the 
rapidity  of  intercommunication  between  all  portions  of  the  globe,  seem 
to  prognosticate  that  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  it  will  be  in  the 
power  of  one  great  conqueror  to  afiflict  and  persecute  all  the  members  of 
the  scattered  and  diminished  Church. 


378  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

This  is  all  the  more  reasonable,  because  the  problems  exist,  and  they 
must  be  solved.  A  Napoleon,  a  Gladstone,  a  Bismarck,  may  put  back 
the  term  of  their  solution :  but  the  final  trial  must  come.  It  will  come 
for  us,  too,  as  well  as  for  the  old  world.  Look  at  our  vast  monopolies, 
our  universal  corruption,  the  power  of  some  few,  unprincipled  men, — 
our  furious  passion  for  acquiring  wealth.  When  the  inexhaustible  Chinee, 
mixing  with  the  multiplied  progeny  of  the  taxed  and  impoverished  white 
man,  will  have  made  of  the  laboring  classes  mere  serfs  of  the  soil,  a  fierce, 
unbelieving  multitude, — nothing  will  keep  them  down  but  the  iron  hand 
of  a  cruel,  heartless,  and  omnipotent  despotism.  But  our  glorious  Con- 
stitution? our  independent  States?  Talk  of  Constitution  !  talk  of  States  1 
These  States  are  legalizing  divorce  till  the  family  in  America  is  becoming 
only  a  name.  The  family,  that  most  sacred  word,  without  the  existence 
of  which  no  virtue,  no  stability  is  possible  on  earth  !  divorce,  infanticide, 
the  breaking  up  of  home — to  live  in  the  impure  atmosphere  of  hotels, — 
these  are  the  characteristics  of  the  family  in  America.  And  when  the 
family  has  gone,  what  will  become  of  the  State  ? 

No  State  can  exist  without  religion.  "  He  overturns  the  foundation 
of  human  society,"  says  Plato,  "  who  overturns  religion."  Men  must 
worship,  and  if  they  will  not  worship  God  they  will  worship  the  DeviL 
As  the  world  is  drifting,  we  shall  come  to  the  time  when,  like  the  culti- 
vated Egj'ptians  and  Romans  of  old,  they  will  adore  their  king  as  god, 
and  every  brute  beast.  But  let  a  State  possess  religion,  let  it  be  guided 
by  religion,  and  it  will  be  happy,  prosperous,  and  progress  under  any 
form  of  government.  Even  if  that  religion  be  not  the  true  one  revealed 
by  God,  the  more  perfect  it  is,  the  less  corrupted,  the  more  near  the  true 
form  revealed,  or  the  more  it  retain  of  the  original  tradition  handed  dowa 
by  the  Fathers  of  the  human  race,  the  more  sway  will  it  have  over  men's 
minds,  the  more  authority  and  power  for  good,  the  more  it  will  prove  it- 
self to  be  a  principle  of  preservation  and  of  life.  At  the  present  day, 
however,  when  faith  is  disappearing,  when  men  laugh  at  faith,  when  to 
believe  is  becoming  the  mark  of  a  weak  intellect  still  fettered  by  the 
ghosts  of  the  chains  of  an  obsolete  superstition,  a  false  worship.  Prot- 
estantism, no  longer  affords  a  barrier  to  the  downward  march  of  thought. 
There  remains  no  longer  a  choice  possible  but  between  no  religion  what- 
ever and  the  true  religion.  There  is  no  hope  of  salvation  for  society  now 
but  in  a  return  to  the  true  religion. 

The  true  religion,  the  Church,  can  save  society.  She  can  do  it.  She 
has  done  so  already.  When  the  wild  hordes  of  the  North  came  down 
like  the  sweeping  hurricane  in  succession  and  brought  the  enervated  na- 
tions of  the  South  to  such  low  misery  that  order  and  law  seemed  to  have 
disappeared  from  the  earth,  and  chaos  come  back  again,  the   Church 


FATHER  MERRICK.  .  37^ 

taught  virtue  to  the  populations  purified  by  misfortune,  and,  after  con- 
verting their  oppressors  to  the  true  faith,  gradually  established  among 
them  a  social  system  which,  with  its  defects,  was  the  most  perfect  the 
world  has  yet  witnessed.  Kings,  aristocracy,  and  people,  were  bound  to- 
gether, not  by  a  bond  of  sentimental  humanity,  or  of  vague  fraternity,  or 
false  equality,  but  by  that  Christian  charity  which  teaches  us  to  respect 
the  rights  of  all,  because  all  are  brothers  regenerated  in  the  blood  of  the 
same  Redeemer,  called  to  the  same  light  of  truth,  and  united  in  the  hope 
of  one  eternal  happiness.  The  haughty  emperors,  the  mailed  barons,  the 
sturdy  citizens,  and  the  contented  peasants,  all  bowed  in  submission  to 
one  common  Father,  the  director  of  their  conscience  and  the  arbiter  of 
their  quarrels,  the  august  head  of  the  great  Christian  Commonwealth., 
These  times  are  gone,  never  to  return  again  probably  in  any  shape.  But 
the  vitality  of  the  Church  remains,  her  vitality  which  is  powerful,  not 
only  to  preserve  her  own  life,  but  to  infuse  vigor  and  communicate  bloom 
and  health  to  all  the  members  of  her  body.  The  days  of  feudal  power,, 
the  days  of  kingly  grandeur,  the  days  of  burgher  influence,  are  gone  per- 
haps forever,  and  may  be  destined  to  disappear  from  the  globe.  Let  the 
democracies  come ;  the  Church  does  not  fear  them, — and  they  need  not 
fear  her ;  on  the  contrary,  they  should  ask  her  to  take  them  in  her  arms. 
For  without  her  they  will  perish.  Fire  and  the  sword  will  waste  them  : 
they  will  disappear  in  anarchy  and  blood.  When  they  shall  obtain  tem- 
poral prosperity,  their  corruption  will  become  the  basis  of  a  throne  of 
iron  such  as  never  blighted  the  growth  of  the  nations  of  the  East,  and 
they  will  sink  into  a  lethargy  more  ignominious  than  the  humility  of 
the  Indian  pariah  or  the  stupor  of  the  Mohammedan  slave.  But 
let  them  submit  to  the  Church.  The  Church  which  gave  civilization  to 
the  German  barbarians,  and  led  their  oppressed  serfs  to  liberty  and  civil 
progress,  will  perfect  and  preserve  their  institutions,  will  assure  them 
their  necessary  element  of  stability,  and,  by  teaching  Christian  morality 
to  all  the  members  of  the  Commonwealth,  obtain,  with  civil  liberty  and 
equality,  that  social  harmony  and  peace  without  which  no  form  of  gov- 
ernment can  give  happiness  to  those  subject  to  its  jurisdiction. 

And  the  Church  will  save  this  land.  This  land  which  is  developing 
with  so  many  elements  of  destruction,  the  Church  alone  can  save  from 
ruin.  This  land  which  the  turbid  passions  of  lust  and  avarice  and  selfish- 
ness, in  all  its  forms,  are  dragging  to  the  precipice,  as  certainly  as  the 
rapid  waters  of  Niagara  are  being  hurried  to  their  fall, — the  Church  alone 
can  save  it.  And  she  will  do  so,  if  allowed.  The  spirit  of  the  Catholic 
Church  will  solve  the  problem  between  capital  and  labor.  It  will  put 
bounds  to  the  desire  of  accumulating  wealth.  It  will  give  strength  to 
central  authority  in  the  affections  of  the  people,  it  will  supply  the  ab- 


380  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

sence  of  the  conservative  influence  of  an  hereditary  aristocracy,  and  pre- 
serve the  mutual  independence  of  the  States,  while  directing  their  common 
progress  and  prosperity.  Because  her  mission  is  to  teach  all  truth,  and  not 
only  she  teaches,  but  by  the  virtue  communicated  to  her  from  above,  by 
the  power  of  her  principles  where  accepted,  even  over  the  minds  of  the 
wicked,  she  alone  is  able  to  obtain  the  accomplishment  of  all  created 
duties.  She  alone  can  found  that  justice  which  "  raises  nations  up,"  and 
without  which  they  fall  into  sin,  which  "  makes  the  peoples  miserable." 

But  this  must  be  on  the  condition  that  her  own  children  continue 
warm  in  their  devotion  to  her.  For  if  they  already  begin  to  grow  cold 
in  their  affection, — if  they,  weak  in  faith,  begin  to  fail  to  believe  in  her 
promises,  because  they  hear  the  murmur  of  her  enemies  against  her — if 
they,  who  ought,  to  resent  every  insult  offered  to  her  person  as  an  injury 
committed  against  themselves, — if  they  begin  to  make  themselves  the 
feeble  echoes  of  an  unholy  public  opinion  which  is  hostile  to  her  cause, 
to  be  the  faint  applauders  of  those  who  howl  and  shout  against  her  holy 
law, — if,  in  the  desire  to  find  peace  in  this  world,  where  there  is  to  be  no 
peace  for  the  Christian,  who,  by  the  oil  of  Confirmation,  was  anointed, 
that  he  might  fight  all  the  days  of  his  life  against  a  world  enemy  to 
Christ, — if,  in  the  desire  to  make  peace  with  the  world,  they  lay  down 
their  arms,  that  is  to  say,  their  constant,  undying  protestation  in  defense 
of  truth,  and  wish  at  least  to  compromise  with  error ; — ah  !  then,  woe  to 
this  country  and  to  the  growing  American  Church  !  That  Church  which 
has  increased  and  spread  with  a  rapidity  equalled  only  by  the  giant 
strides  of  the  Republic  itself,  already  has  a  cankerworm  within  it  which 
will  eat  away  its  beauty  and  its  substance,  and,  what  has  not  been  heard 
of  in  history  before,  it  will  rot  and  wither  before  coming  to  its  maturity, 
and  this  fair  vast  land  will  be  delivered  up  by  God  to  the  empire  of  the 
devil. 

It  is  said  that  the  Church  is  opposed  to  progress,  to  civilization  and 
enlightenment ;  that  she  is  narrow  and  intolerant ;  not  only  behind  the 
age,  but  a  drag  upon  the  age ;  that  she  has  often  shown  herself  mistaken ; 
that  she  has  often  proved  herself  to  be  in  the  wrong ;  that  she  would  pre- 
vent civil  society  from  expanding  to  its  proper  natural  development,  by 
keeping  the  human  mind  in  leading-strings,  and  Catholic  nations  are 
pointed  out  as  a  proof  and  illustration  of  the  fact.  The  Church  is  not 
opposed  to  true  progress, — to  true  civilization.  She  is  opposed  to  no 
truth :  how  could  she  be  ?  she  teaches  all  truth.  The  confirmation  of 
her  authority  assures  us  that  we  are  not  mistaken  even  in  the  acceptance  of 
those  truths,  the  knowledge  of  which  may  be  acquired  by  reason.  What 
she  is  opposed  to  is  error.  She  has  no  enemy  but  error.  She  never 
made  war  but  on  error.   She  gave  true  liberty  and  education  and  progress 


FATHER  MERRICK.  381 

to  the  crushed  world  before  the  dreamy  Humanitarian  theories  of  our  day- 
were  known.  It  is  false  to  say  that  she  was  ever  narrow-minded,  cruel, 
grasping.  The  authenticated  facts  of  history  are  to  the  contrary.  If 
ever  Catholic  nations  have  done  wrong,  it  was  when  they  acted  in  contra- 
diction to  her  spirit  and  her  direction.  They  were  all  great  and  grand 
while  they  obeyed  her  laws ;  they  all  began  to  decay  and  perish  from  the  day 
they  commenced  to  revolt  against  her  rule  and  throw  off  her  gentle  yoke. 
And  all  she  wants  to-day  is  true  liberty,  true  progress,  true  enlightenment. 
She  cannot  yield  one  line  of  principle,  but  everything  that  is  not  opposed  to 
truth  in  itself  she  will  sanctify.  Give  her  a  democracy,  a  universal  de- 
mocracy, if  you  like — not  that  she  is  bound  to  admit  that  to  be  the  best 
form  of  government — but  give  it  to  her  with  religion,  and  she  will  accept 
it.  But  what  she  will  not  accept,  and  what  we  cannot  accept,  is,  society 
without  religion,  indifference  as  to  religion — and  as  to  the  true  religion, 
the  equality  before  God  and  conscience  of  all  religions,  the  negation  of  a 
true  and  one  only  saving  religion,  democracy  without  religion,  education, 
commerce,  science,  progress,  without  religion,  the  theory  that  govern- 
ment, where  it  can  be  done,  is  not  obliged  to  take  into  consideration  the 
interests  of  men's  souls — that  it  is  not  obliged  to  protect,  to  promote  the 
true  faith,  that,  in  the  normal  condition  of  things,  the  truth  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  should 
not  be  the  truth,  the  religion,  the  church  of  the  State  as  well  as  of  the 
people.  All  this  the  Church  will  not  admit,  nor  can  we,  as  Catholics,  ad- 
mit. What  we  as  Catholics  cannot  admit,  is,  that  the  State  can  get  on 
very  well  without  the  Church,  that  the  best  thing  for  the  Church  now  to 
do  is  to  hold  her  peace,  and  allow  the  State  or  civil  society  to  do  as  it 
pleases  without  protest  on  her  part — that,  in  order  to  have  peace  and  be 
on  an  equality  with  our  enlightened  neighbors,  we,  the  children  of  the 
Church,  should  praise  and  extol  the  liberal  principles  of  the  day, — that  is, 
the  unrestricted  liberty  of  everything  that  is  immoral  and  untrue,  the 
equal  liberty  of  wrong  as  well  as  of  right :  all  this,  I  say,  as  Catholics,  we 
cannot  admit ;  if  we  do,  in  so  far,  we  are  Catholics  in  name  and  not  in 
fact.  The  Church  does  not  change.  "  Jesus  Christ  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  the  same  forever."  The  Catholic  of  the  19th  century  believes  what 
the  Catholic  of  the  13th  century  believed,  and  what  the  Catholic  of  the 
third  and  first  believed,  and  for  which  he  died.  We  are  hot  going  to  en- 
lighten the  Church,  but  we  all  stand  in  great  need  that  the  Church  should 
enlighten  us.  And  so  does  the  age :  but  the  age  refuses  to  be  enlight- 
ened by  the  Church,  and  therefore  they  are  at  war.  For  the  duty  of  the 
Church  is  to  direct  the  age,  though  this  age  refuses  to  be  directed  by 
her.  The  duty  of  the  Church  is  to  condemn  error — of  every  kind :  but 
this  age  clings  to  error,  more  even  than  to  truth.     The  duty  of  the 


382 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


Church  is  to  give  light  to  her  children,  that  they  may  know  what  is  right 
and  what  is  wrong :  and  this  age  prefers  darkness.  Even  as  our  Lord 
was  in  the  world,  and  the  world  knew  Him  not.  He  was  "the  light  shin- 
ing in  darkness,  and  the  darkness  did  not  comprehend  Him  ":  so  the 
men  of  this  age  revolt  against  the  Church's  teaching  us  that  truth  which 
alone  will  make  us  free,  because  they  prefer  the  liberty  of  accepting, 
keeping,  living  in  error  and  deceit. 

Let  us  not,  my  dear  brethren,  join  in  this  revolt, — from  any  motive 
or  to  any  degree, — not  even  in  the  sympathies  of  our  heart,  or  the  fancies 
of  our  imagination,  lest  one  day  we  be  condemned  like  the  Jews,  of 
whom  it  is  said  that  they  would  not  hear  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  be- 
cause they  loved  more  the  glory  of  men  than  the  glory  of  God.  Rather, 
in  order  that  the  Church  of  Christ  may  accomplish  its  destiny  of  regener- 
ating human  society, — in  order  that  it  may  accomplish  the  great  work  of 
converting  this  fair  land, — let  us  strengthen  our  devotion  to  the  Church. 
Let  us  love  our  holy  mother  the  Church ;  we  owe  everything  to  the 
Church.  Let  us  not  fear  that  the  words  of  Christ's  promise  shall  ever 
fail.  The  gates  of  hell  have  never  prevailed,  and  never  shall  prevail, 
against  His  Church.  She  has  never  gone  astray  on  a  single  doctrinal 
point :  her  enemies  may  be  challenged  to  prove  that  she  has  ever  erred 
in  any  point  of  practical  justice  or  prudence.  Her  children  may  have 
done  wrong;  individual  ministers  in  their  individual  capacity  may  have 
done  wrong ;  but  the  Bride  of  Christ  has  preserved  unstained  during 
nineteen  centuries  that  white  robe  which  He  gave  to  her  that  she  might 
be  "a  glorious  Church,  not  having  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing." 
She  has  never  been  unfaithful  to  His  truth  or  to  His  cause,  and,  by  the 
virtue  of  His  power,  she  will  purify  again  this  earth,  on  which  it  is  her 
lot  to  lead  a  life  of  ever-varying  trial  and  combat.  Let  us  ask  to  be 
made  worthy  children  of  that  Church  militant  and  struggling,  in  order 
that,  having  done  our  part  of  duty  in  her  warfare  with  the  world,  we  may 
merit  to  be  enrolled  among  the  glorious  members  of  a  Church  which  is 
triumphing  in  heaven. 


ON  THE  SUPERNATURAL  ORDER, 

'To  whom  also  He  showed  Himself  alive  after  His  passion,  by  many  proofs,  for  forty 
days  appearing  to  them,  and  speaking  of  the  kingdom  of  God." — ACTS  i.  3. 

IHAT  was  this  kingdom  of  God,  of  which  our  Lord  entertained 
His  disciples  during  the  forty  days  He  spent  with  them  be- 
tween His  glorious  resurrection  and  His  ascension  into  heaven. 
"The  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you,"  He  had  said  when 
preaching  in  Galilee  before  His  passion.  "  The  kingdom  of  God  cometh 
not  with  observation  ";  it  is  not  something  external,  a  thing  that  makes 
a  show  in  the  world,  but  something  hidden  in  the  heart  of  man.  "  The 
kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink,"  wrote  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  to 
the  Romans,  "  but  justice  and  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  So 
that  what  our  Lord  meant  by  the  expression  "  the  kingdom  of  God,"  was 
the  possession  of  the  virtue  and  graces  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  our  hearts. 
He  dwelt  upon  this  point  in  speaking  to  and  instructing  His  apostles 
after  His  resurrection,  because  they  were  still  carnal-minded  and  had  not 
yet  understood  those  words  which  He  addressed  to  Pontius  Pilate,  "  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world :  for  this  was  I  born  ....  that  I  might  give 
testimony  unto  the  truth  ";  so  much  so  that,  when  even  on  their  way  to 
witness  His  ascension  into  heaven,  they  asked  Him,  "  Lord,  wilt  Thou  at 
this  time  restore  again  the  kingdom  to  Israel  ? "  So  impressed  were 
they  with  the  common  Jewish  opinion  that  the  Messiah  was  to  restore 
temporal  prosperity  and  glory  to  the  Jewish  people. 

The  error  of  the  apostles  was  an  error  very  natural  to  men.  Nearly 
nineteen  centuries  have  elapsed  since  their  time,  and  it  is  still  hard  for 
human  nature,  for  flesh  and  blood,  to  understand  that  the  kingdom  of 
God  does  not  consist  in  worldly  prosperity,  but  in  something  hidden  to 
the  world,  the  inner  workings  in  the  Christian  soul  of  God's  divine  and 
invisible  Spirit.  And  after  eighteen  centuries  that  Christianity  has 
existed  in  the  world,  the  opinions  of  men  have  not  changed  in  this 
respect.  They  still  wish  to  believe  that  virtue  is  to  be  recompensed  in 
this  life,  and  that  indeed  the  virtue  which  is  pleasing  to  God  is  the  mere 
observance  of  that  natural  law  which  was  known  even  to  the  Pagans,' not 
the  practice  of  those  heroic  precepts  revealed  by  the  author  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  in  His  instructions  to  His  followers.     And  they  are  scandal- 

(383) 


384  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ized,  as  much  as  the  Jews  or  the  Gentiles  were,  at  the  preaching  of  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven ;  blessed  are  they  that  suffer  persecution  for  justice'  sake,  for 
theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven," — are  words  they  cannot  comprehend. 
How,  the  poor,  the  illiterate,  the  unpolished,  the  lower  classes,  as  they 
are  called,  the  peasants,  are  to  be  preferred  before  the  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  before  the  men  of  science,  the  intellects  of  the  19th  century  ? 
"  Unless  you  be  converted  and  become  as  little  children,  you  shall  not 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  and  "  Whosoever  shall  humble  h'm- 
self  as  this  little  child,  he  is  the  greater  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
What,  in  order  to  be  saved,  in  order  to  become  a  person  of  any  value  in 
the  sight  of  God,  it  is  necessary  in  this  age  of  free  thought,  of  progress, 
of  enlightenment,  of  science,  of  independence  of  action,  of  diffusion  of 
knowledge  and  education,  to  make  ourselves  as  little  children  !  to  grow 
backwards!  to  humble  ourselves — !  Yes:  to  humble  ourselves;  for 
without  Christian  humility,  no  man  shall  be  saved.  Unless  a  man  pos- 
sess in  some  degree  that  Christian  humility  which  is  the  very  antipode  of 
the  spirit  of  this  age  in  which  we  live,  he  will  never  possess  or  keep  the 
grace  of  God,  and  without  the  grace  of  God  salvation  is  impossible.  I 
say,  without  the  grace  of  God  salvatioa  is  impossible.  For,  according  to 
Catholic  doctrine,  man  has  been  elevated  to  an  end  superior  to  that  for 
which  he  is  naturally  adapted.  To  fit  him  for  this  end,  God  infuses  into 
his  soul  supernatural  and  habitual  grace,  without  the  presence  of  which 
grace  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  him  ever  to  see  God  as  he  will  now 
be  one  day  called  to  do.  This  grace  is  a  purely  divine  gift,  by  which  we 
are  made  partakers-,  inasmuch  as  mere  creatures  can  become  so,  of  the 
intimate  nature  of  God  Himself  as  He  exists  in  three  Persons,  and  is  the 
foundation  and  support  of  all  the  other  supernatural  gifts,  the  trunk,  so 
to  say,  of  which  they  are  the  branches,  as  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  the 
supernatural  moral  virtues,  and  what  are  called  the  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  This  grace  was  lost  by  Adam  to  his  posterity,  and  we  receive  it 
individually  in  Baptism.  It  is  lost  again  by  mortal  sin,  and  recovered  by 
sincere  contrition,  and  the  sacrament  of  penance.  And  now  that  man 
has  been  elevated  to  so  sublime  a  vocation,  he  can  no  longer  attain  even 
that  natural  felicity  which  would  have  been  otherwise  the  final  end  of 
his  existence,  unless  he  die  in  the  possession  of  supernatural  grace  and 
virtue.  For  the  natural  end  of  man  has  been  swallowed  up  and  absorbed 
in  the  higher  glory  to  which  he  has  been  called,  so  that  it  has  been  made 
an  obligation  incumbent  on  all  men  to  tend  to  supernatural  happiness, 
and  he  who  fails  to  do  so  forfeits  all  right  to  hope  for  a  blissful  existence 
in  the  life  which  is  to  be  hereafter. 

This  is  the  Catholic  doctrine.     But  it  is  far  from  being  universally 


FATHER  MERRICK.  386 

admitted.  The  two  camps  which  existed  at  the  time  our  Lord  was  on 
earth,  exist  at  the  present  day,  and  perhaps  the  division  between  them  is 
more  marked  than  ever.  The  Catholic  Church  speaks  with  the  same 
voice  and  in  the  same  words  which  her  divine  founder  used.  Outside  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  there  are  still  some  few  organs  which  try  to  echo 
feebly  the  same  sounds:  but  the  great  mass  of  all  those  out  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  communion  at  the  present  time,  whether  they  be  the  en- 
lightened pagans  of  China  and  India,  or  the  Protestants  of  England  and 
the  United  States,  or  the  infidels  of  France  and  Germany,  all  agree  in 
rejecting  any  other  order  of  things  but  the  mere  natural  order,  any  other 
religion  binding  on  men  but  that  made  known  by  the  voice  of  nature. 
The  world  denies  the  supernatural  state :  the  Church  affirms  it.  It  is 
not  at  all  surprising  that  we  should  have  come  to  this.  The  world,  which 
wishes  to  enjoy  this  life,  which  wishes  to  receive  its  meed  of  reward  for 
whatever  good  works  it  does  in  this  life,  which  does  not  understand,  nor 
wish  to  understand,  anything  about  austerity,  humility,  self-denial,  good 
deeds  done  in  secret  in  order  to  obtain  an  invisible  recompense, — this 
world  naturally  revolts  against  the  assertion  of  the  existence  of  an  order 
of  things  which  contradicts  all  its  own  notions.  For  what  follows  from 
the  admission  of  a  supernatural  state  ?  It  follows  that  the  world  is  all 
wrong.  The  ens  supernaturale,  or  the  supernatural  being  in  man,  is  some- 
thing altogether  distinct  from  our  natural  being ;  it  is  an  incomprehen- 
sibly different  kind  of  being,  of  which  one  of  the  most  essential  elements 
is  that  it  should  be  invisible,  unseen,  intangible,  something  to  be  believed, 
not  known  by  any  operation  of  sense  or  perception  of  reason.  It  is  there- 
fore something  which  has  nothing  in  common  with  nature  or  the  world. 
Quite  the  contrary,  as  its  being,  so  its  ends  and  operations  are  opposed 
to  those  of  nature  and  the  world.  Nature  desires  sensual  satisfaction ; 
the  world  lives  in  the  pleasure  of  ostentatious  vanity :  nature  has  for  its 
object,  self ;  the  world  is  all  in  a  round  of  empty  show ;  nature  does  not 
act  from  principle  or  reason,  but  according  to  the  impulses  which  spring 
from  man's  unreflecting  instincts,  many  of  which  are  not  superior  to  those 
of  irrational  animals ;  the  world  is  swept  on  by  a  dizzying  wind  of  frivol- 
ity, ambition,  and  pride,  which  puffs  it  up  with  reeUng  self-complacency, 
till  it  is  ready,  as  it  were,  to  burst  through  swollen  admiration  of  its  own 
imaginary  greatness.  The  more  a  man  leads  a  natural  life,  the  more  he 
leads  a  selfish  life ;  and  the  more  a  man  leads  a  worldly  life,  the  more  he 
leads  a  vain  and  foolish  life.  For  nature  is  all  self-love,  and  the  world 
is  all  a  vanity-fair.  There  is  no  truth  in  it ;  affectation  is  the  essence  of 
its  being;  and,  when  the  conceit  of  the  fleeting  hour  is  spent,  it  has  noth- 
ing to  give  its  followers  but  the  empty  recollection  of  an  empty  pageant- 
ry, of    lying  flattery  and    heartless    dissipation.      No  wonder  that  this 


386  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

world  and  this  nature  should  resent  the  intruding  presence  of  the  super- 
natural and  true.  No  wonder  that  they  should  join  in  seeking  to  chase 
it  from  their  sight,  and  destroying,  or  denying,  its  existence.  What  is  it 
doing,  with  its  pale,  rugged  face,  and  its  plain,  homely  dress,  in  the  dis- 
tinguished presence  of  the  world  and  nature  ?  Let  it  move  out  of  the 
way  with  its  beggarly  manners  and  uncouth  appearance  and  superstitious 
practices,  and  no  longer  obstruct  the  path  of  progress  of  an  enlightened 
age,  which  has  to  travel  round  the  globe  in  hotel-carriages  and  drawing- 
room  cars,  and  plant  its  boulevards  and  camps  of  industrial  exposition  in 
Pekin  and  Constantinople  ;  because  the  grand  era  of  universal  peace  and 
brotherhood  has  come,  when  man  fights  no  longer  with  his  brother-man,  not 
Prussian  with  Frenchman  in  deadly  combat,  nor  Parisian  with  Provincial, 
nor  American  with  American,  nor  the  poor  against  the  rich,  but,  in  the 
light  of  modern  science  and  of  universal  education,  the  human  race,  disen- 
thralled from  all  superstition,  and  now  proved  to  have  probably  descended 
from  an  ape,  will  regenerate  itself  indefinitely,  abandoning  antiquated 
religious  speculations  to  study  positive  facts,  and  leaving  to  every  man, 
with  that  liberality  which  becomes  a  cultivated  period,  the  right  to 
think  what  he  pleases  about  the  existence  of  a  God,  and,  if  he  is  pleased 
with  that  hypothesis,  to  serve  that  God  or  not  to  serve  Him  according  as 
he  likes,  provided  he  allows  his  neighbors  to  do  the  same, — and  only  de- 
claring war,  but  that  unrelenting  and  to  the  knife,  against  ignorance, 
superstition,  fanaticism,  and  the  obsolete  assumptions  of  authority  of  any 
dogmatizing  church. 

Positivism,  which,  we  are  told,  is  to  be  the  religion  of  the  future,  and 
of  which  M.  Auguste  Comte  has  the  credit  of  being  the  founder,  though 
it  existed  thousands  of  years  before  him,  and  is  only  a  new  name  for  an 
old  thing, — expresses  well  the  practical  state  of  mind  of  a  vast  number  of 
men  now  living  in  the  world  outside  of  the  Catholic  Church.  This  Posi- 
tivism is  the  most  unpositive  thing  on  earth.  The  Positivist  admits  facts 
only,  that  is,  sensible  facts :  what  is  suprasensible,  he  says  nothing  about. 
Does  a  God  exist  ?  I  don't  say  yes,  he  answers ;  I  don't  say  no ;  I  don't 
know.  This  is  not  a  very  philosophical  way  of  talking,  you  will  say.  But 
they  pretend  that  Positivism  is  an  improvement  on  philosophy.  I  can 
understand  that  it  is,  if  it  denotes  the  mental  condition,  not  of  a  man 
who  has  chosen  to  exist  in  a  state  of  stupid  scepticism,  but  of  one  who 
acknowledges  that  he  has  not  yet  received  that  light  to  his  intellect 
which  will  enable  him  to  give  a  certain  answer  on  the  grave  questions 
which  he  feels  called  upon  to  solve.  Such  a  man,  if  he  is  honest,  and 
not  the  slave  of  pride,  will  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  But  at 
the  present  day,  there  are  thousands  of  men  who  practically  do  not  know 
whether  there  is  a  God  or  not,  simply  because  they  do  not  care.    Whether 


FATHER  MERRICK.  387 

there  be  a  true  religion  on  earth  or  not,  they  do  not  know,  because  they 
have  never  inquired  about  it.  These  are  the  men  who  are  liberal  in  their 
notions,  and  they  have  a  right  to  be ;  what  else  would  they  be  ?  Since 
they  do  not  know  and  do  not  care  what  is  true  or  the  truth,  why  should 
they  worry  their  neighbor  about  what  he  thinks  or  how  he  acts?  Such 
men  as  these  are  easily  carried  away  by  the  cant  words  of  the  time,  words 
having  a  very  great  sound  and  a  very  empty  sense,  because  the  way  of 
speaking  of  the  time  exactly  coincides  with  their  disposition  of  mind. 
What  more  convenient,  what  less  troublesome,  than  to  speak  glibly  of 
the  progress  of  our  century,  liberty,  liberality,  enlightenment,  civiliza- 
tion, education,  superstition,  ultramontanism,  fanaticism,  bigotry,  educat- 
ing the  people,  the  light  of  science,  freedom  of  the  press,  democratic  in- 
stitutions, etc.,  etc.  ?  This  dialect  of  the  English  language  is  very  easily 
acquired.  You  have  only  to  read  any  one  of  our  daily  papers  attentively 
for  a  week  or  two  to  learn  the  whole  of  it.  No  matter  whether  you  alto- 
gether understand  what  you  are  saying,  or  sometimes  jumble  together 
contradictory  assertions,  it  will  do  very  well  for  talk — and  talk  is  all  that 
the  world  cares  for. 

But  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  talk,  or  "  in  speech,  but  in  power," 
"and  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  in  much  fulness'*  (i  Cor.  iv.  20 ;  i  Thess. 
i.  15).  We  shall  not  be  saved  by  any  loose  kjnd  of  thought,  or  any  loose 
kind  of  conversation  on  all  important  subjects ;  we  shall  be  saved  only 
by  the  virtue  of  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  the  Holy  Ghost, 
who  is  the  principle  of  the  supernatural  life  in  man,  will  not  compromise 
or  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  world  and  nature.  His  lessons  to 
the  Christian  soul  are  directly  contradictory  to  those  of  nature  and  the 
world.  They  say  there  is  no  higher  order  than  that  naturally  known 
by  his  reason  to  man  on  earth :  the  Divine  Spirit  affirms  that  there  is  a 
higher  order,  and  that  the  whole  natural  order  must,  if  occasion  re- 
quires, be  sacrificed  to  the  supernatural  welfare  of  the  soul.  The  world 
and  nature  not  only  are  averse  to,  but  violently  repugn  against  any  kind 
of  mortification  of  the  senses  or  the  will  of  man :  the  Holy  Ghost  declares 
that  the  Christian's  whole  life  on  earth  must  be  one  of  constant  self- 
denial,  submission,  and  sacrifice.  The  world  and  nature  want  pleasure, 
t>he  pleasure  of  indolence,  the  pleasure  of  flattery,  the  pleasure  of  many 
friends,  of  state,  of  office,  of  the  first  places ;  the  Holy  Ghost  declares 
that  the  Christian's  duty  is  to  carry  his  cross  in  this  life,  that  life  is  a 
serious  thing,  that  death  is  the  time  for  rendering  our  account,  that  on 
this  earth  we  have  to  suffer  in  order  to  enjoy  in  heaven  a  recompense 
which  shall  be  eternal.  The  world  and  nature  do  not  wish  to  be  con- 
trolled ;  they  wish  to  think  for  themselves  and  to  judge  for  themselves 
and  to  speak  for  themselves,  on  all  subjects,  though  the  truth  is  that  those 


388  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

■  who  are  their  votaries  are  the  drag-slaves  of  public  opinion,  and  the  blind 
followers  of  the  blind.  The  Spirit  of  God  says  that  there  is  but  one 
truth ;  that  what  men  should  wish  is,  not  to  be  independent  of  direction, 
but  to  know  the  truth,  honestly  to  seek  nothing  but  the  truth,  the  truth 
in  natural  science  and  in  social  problems,  and  the  truth  in  religious  in- 
quiry, in  order  to  accept,  embrace,  and  execute  the  mandates  of  Truth. 
The  Spirit  of  God  says  that  as  there  is  a  supernatural  order,  above  the 
visible  things  of  this  world,  it  is  to  be  prized  incomparably  beyond  all  the 
things  of  this  world  ;  that  education,  science,  knowledge,  liberty,  no  more 
than  wealth,  health,  beauty,  talent,  are  not  to  be  valued  or  estimated  as 
anything  in  comparison  to  the  possession  of  the  vivifying  grace  of  God  in 
our  souls.  If  education,  progress,  liberty,  were  only  to  make  man  proud 
and  vain  and  withdraw  him  from  God,  then  perish  progress,  liberty,  and 
knowledge,  rather  than  we  should  lose  the  knowledge  of  the  things  of 
God.  If  material  prosperity,  if  worldly  comfort,  only  tend  to  absorb 
man's  thoughts  in  the  things  of  this  earth,  so  that  he  may  have  no  time 
or  wish  to  occupy  himself  about  the  things  of  heaven,  then  were  it 
better  for  man  if  he  never  prospered,  and  if  he  never  knew  comfort  on 
this  earth,  but  tried  to  love  his  God  and  merit  happiness  in  a  world  to 
come.  ' 

You  see  that  here  are  two  very  different  points  of  view  of  the  same 
thing.  The  Holy  Ghost  considers  only  the  supernatural  end  of  man,  and 
wishes  that  everything  should  be  directed  to  that  end.  The  world  does 
not  look,  and  does  not  care  to  look,  beyond  man's  merely  natural  condi- 
tion. It  is  clear  that  there  can  never  be  any  agreement  between  the 
world  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  What  then  is  the  best  thing  for  the  world 
to  do  ?  Why,  to  deny  the  existence  of  this  supernatural  state  in  man 
altogether.  And  so  it  has  done.  So  it  is  that  how  many  persons  will 
you  find  outside  of  the  Catholic  Church  to-day  who  believe  firmly  in  the 
divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  eternity  of  hell  (or  of  heaven  itself,  for  the 
matter  of  that),  in  the  truth  of  any  certain  revealed  religion,  in  the  neces- 
sity of  baptism  ?  And  this  belief  in  the  necessity  of  baptism  is  the  best 
criterion  by  which  to  judge  of  the  reality  of  a  belief  in  the  supernatural 
state,  since  it  is  by  baptism  that  we  receive  the  Holy  Ghost  within  our 
souls  and  the  Holy  Trinity,  that  we  become  children  of  God  and  co-heirs 
of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Now  how  many  persons  are 
baptized  at  the  present  day,  in  the  length  and  breadth  of  this  great  land, 
to  speak  of  no  other,  outside  of  the  Catholic  Church  ?  How  many  Prot- 
estant ministers  believe  in  the  necessity  of  baptism  ?  The  Ritualists  do : 
they  are  able  to  believe  in  anything :  they  believe  that  they  are  priests. 
But  the  great  bulk  of  the  American  people  have  practically  discarded  all 
credence  in  the  presence  of  any  higher  principle  in  the  soul  of  man  than 


FATHER  MERRICK.  389 

that  which  he  received  by  the  operation  of  the  law  of  his  creation,  in  the 
pure  order  of  nature. 

What  then  must  be  the  moral  condition  of  this  atmosphere  of  nat- 
uralism, by  which  we  are  on  all  sides  surrounded  ?  Is  it  a  healthy  one 
for  us  to  breathe  ?  And  if  not,  what  preventative  measures  ought  we  to 
adopt,  what  antidotes  should  we  make  use  of,  to  preserve  its  poisonous 
vapors  from  affecting  our  own  vital  organs,  and  impairing  the  integrity  of 
our  life  of  faith  ?  What  we  have  to  do  is,  to  ground  ourselves  well  in 
our  principles  of  faith,  in  the  firm  belief  in  the  truth  of  this  supernatural 
life,  which  results  from  the  presence  of  divine  grace  and  charity  in  the 
soul  of  man,  which  is  as  superior  to  all  other  things  in  our  natural  state 
on  earth  as  it  is  distinct  from  them,  and  without  which  it  is  impossible  to 
be  saved.  What  we  have  to  do  is,  to  prize  above  all  things  that  life  of 
grace,  which  alone  is  truly  prize-worthy,  which  alone  is  valuable,  which 
alone  is  a  truly  precious  possession,  since  all  things  else  pass  away,  and  it 
alone  contains  the  germ  of  immortality.  This  is  a  kind  of  language  to 
which  the  world,  as  I  have  already  said,  is,  of  course,  unwilling  to  listen. 
How  indeed  could  the  world  believe  that  those  ignorant  peasants,  who 
only  know  how  to  mutter  their  beads,  who  cannot  read,  who  are  as  far 
behind  and  ignorant  of  the  enlightenment  of  this  age  as  the  serfs  and 
villeins  of  the  9th  and  loth  centuries,  are  to  be  preferred  before  the  edu- 
cated, the  learned,  the  fashionable  people  of  our  cultivated  period  ?  Yet 
so  it  must  be,  if  what  we  hold  is  true,  and  they  possess  the  grace  of  God. 
And  so  it  is.  Dives  was  an  educated  and  very  polite  man ;  he  enter- 
tained his  friends  well  at  his  table,  and  talked  very  fluently  the  current 
talk  of  the  Roman  Empire  in  his  day.  And  Lazarus  was  a  beggar,  who 
sat  at  Dives*  door,  eating  crumbs,  and  it  is  very  probable  that  Lazarus 
was  not  a  very  nice  sort  of  object  to  look  at ;  he  could  not  read  nor 
write,  he  knew  nothing  about  politics,  nothing  about  the  price  of  gold, 
and  nothing  about  the  fashions.  Yet  Lazarus  is  in  heaven,  and  Dives  is 
in  hell, — because  Lazarus  had  in  his  soul  the  sanctifying  grace  of  God, 
and  Dives  had  not.  Whosoever  dies  with  sanctifying  grace  in  his  heart 
will  go  certainly  to  heaven,  and  whosoever  dies  without  sanctifying  grage 
in  his  heart  will  certainly  go  to  hell.  Here  is  a  respectable  citizen  of 
New  York :  he  is  a  most  worthy  man  in  every  respect,  so  far  as  human 
reason  can  discern.  He  is  an  upright  man,  fair  and  honest  in  his  deal- 
ings, liberal  and  generous  in  his  views,  kind-hearted,  charitable,  and  phi- 
lanthropical ;  he  is  a  refined  gentleman  in  his  tastes,  a  man  addicted  to 
no  particular  kind  of  vice,  a  good  neighbor,  a  valuable  friend,  a  man  of 
great  enterprise,  a  public  benefactor,  in  fine.  He  lives  and  dies  without 
the  grace  of  God.  My  dear  friends,  he  will  go  to  hell.  Here  is  a  fine 
lady,  educated   in  some  superior  establishment,  who  has   travelled   in 


390  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Europe,  who  possesses  every  accomplishment,  a  model  of  grace,  and  a 
woman  of  talent,  too,  a  very  charitable  person  likewise,  who  labors  for 
the  poor,  whose  name  is  on  the  list  among  those  at  the  head  of  every 
good  work  undertaken  for  the  relief  of  the  innumerable  forms  of  human 
suffering.  She  too  dies  without  the  grace  of  God,  and  she  will  go  to 
hell.  All  her  charities,  all  her  graces,  all  her  gifts  and  talents,  will  avail 
her  nothing,  will  be  all  spent,  wasted,  lost,  since  she  will  not  have  attained 
the  one  thing  necessary — salvation.  And  what  will  have  been  their  value 
in  the  end  ?  as  "  what  doth  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world,  and 
lose  his  own  soul  ?  "  What  will  it  avail  these  persons  to  have  been  rich, 
honored,  to  have  had  talents,  to  have  received  a  superior  education,  to 
have  lived  in  an  enlightened  age,  to  have  talked  or  to  have  spoken,  or  to 
have  written  finely  about  progress,  science,  improvement, — if  such  is  to 
be  their  end  ?  This  is  why  we  place  the  supernatural  element  higher  in 
our  estimation  than  everything  in  the  natural  order.  Do  we  therefore 
despise  or  undervalue  what  is  good  in  the  natural  order  of  things  ?  are 
we  opposed  to  the  improvement  of  the  human  race  ?  Not  at  all :  but  we 
wish  everything  to  hold  its  right  place  in  Christian  opinion,  and  if  the 
poor  and  illiterate,  according  to  those  words  of  our  Lord,  "  I  confess  to 
Thee,  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and- earth,  because  Thou  hast  hid  these 
things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  to  little  ones," 
know  more  about  the  things  of  heaven  than  those  who  are  more  in- 
structed otherwise  and  more  favored  with  those  gifts  which  are  esteemed 
by  this  world, — why,  then,  we  say :  Blessed  are  the  poor  and  blessed  the 
illiterate,  since  God  has  revealed  to  their  humility  and  littleness  what  He 
has  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent  of  the  world.  Let  us  therefore 
respect  and  honor  those  natural  virtues  and  qualities  which  are  God's 
gift  also,  but  in  a  lower  sphere,  talent,  amiability,  education,  knowledge 
of  every  kind;  but  let  us  value  more,  incomparably  more — the  least 
degree  of  that  supernatural  grace  which  is  the  seed  of  heavenly  glory, 
which  alone  makes  us  worthy  of  God's  love  and  to  be  called  His  children^ 
and  which  is  given  only  to  the  little  and  humble  of  heart,  and  not  to  such 
as  "  mind  high  things,"  and  **  are  wise  in  their  own  conceits."  And  dur- 
ing this  period  when  we  are  approaching  the  feast  which  is  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  coming  down  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  the  apostles  to  fill  them 
with  divine  grace  and  strength,  let  us  endeavor  and  prepare  to  deserve 
ourselves  an  augmentation  of  that  supernatural  life  within  us  from  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God,  by  increasing  our  esteem  for  it,  by  prizing  more  than 
ever,  as  the  greatest  treasure  we  possess,  the  life  of  supernatural  virtue  in 
our  soul.  Thus  we  shall  be  disposed  to  profit  by  those  days  of  grace 
which  God  grants  to  us,  that  His  Divine  Spirit  may  be  able  to  renew 
annually  in  our  hearts  the  wonders  of  mercy  which  He  operated  in  the 


FATHER  MERRICK. 


391 


early  Christians ;  we  shall  advance  in  that  life  of  faith,  hope,  and  charity, 
which  is  the  complement  and  perfection  of  all  those  benefits  and  advan- 
tages which  we  have  received  in  the  natural  order ;  and,  with  our  increase 
in  divine  charity  and  virtue,  we  shall  accumulate  merits  for  that  eternal 
life  where  grace  shall  be  turned  into  glory,  and  faith  in  things  invisible 
shall  be  changed  into  the  clear  vision  of  the  God  who  is  to  be  our  great 
reward  and  the  object  of  our  never-ending  happiness. 


REVEREND  JOSEPH   FARRELL. 


Reverend  Joseph  Farrell  was  ordained  priest  in  1865,  and  became  a 
Professor  in  Carlow  College,  Ireland,  where  he  remained  until  1868.  His 
Reverence  died  in  the  year  1885,  in  his  44th  year. 


(393) 


^fejc  Poly  Viaticum. 


THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST. 

"Come  to  me,  all  you  that  labor  and  are  heavy  burdened,  and  I  will  refresh  you." — 

Matt.  li.  28. 

|0D,  my  brethren,  has  employed  two  men  to  sing  for  every  age, 
and  with  a  voice  that  finds  an  echo  in  every  human  heart,  the 
psalm  of  human  misery.  Job,  the  most  afflicted  of  the  sons 
of  men,  and  Solomon,  lifted  above  them  all- by  the  greatness 
of  his  prosperity,  both  have  touched,  and  with  inspired  hands,  the  mys- 
tery of  human  sorrow.  This  is,  as  it  were,  the  key  of  all  the  history  of 
God's  dealings  with  His  creature  man,  the  foundation-stone  of  all  Revela- 
tion, both  pre-Christian  and  Christian,  that  the  state  of  man,  being  a  state 
of  fall  from  some  original  high  degree  of  privilege  and  perfection,  is, 
consequently,  a  state  of  which  misery  and  sorrow  are  the  inevitable  con- 
ditions. The  whole  teaching  of  history — of  profane  history  quite  as 
much  as  of  sacred — goes  to  prove  that,  in  the  words  of  Job,  "  Man  is 
filled  with  many  miseries,"  and  in  the  words  of  Solomon,  that  "  all  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  Hence  it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  who  came  as  the  representative  before  His  eternal  Father 
of  the  human  race,  should  have  been  known  to  the  prophets,  who  saw 
Him  from  afar,  as  He  who  was  to  be  emphatically  "  the  man  of  sorrows  "; 
and  not  wonderful  that,  when  He  did  come.  He  came  poor  and  mean  and 
abject,  attracting  to  Himself,  as  if  by  the  intense  sympathy  for  humanity 
that  filled  His  Sacred  Heart,  every  sorrow  that  could  crown,  as  with  a 
crown  of  thorns,  a  human  life.  See  if  it  were  not  so.  For,  mark  you 
this.  He  might  have  appeared  on  earth  a  full-grown  man ;  but  no — by 
doing  so  He  would  have  spared  Himself  a  pang  that  was  the  keenest  of 
the  tortures  of  His  Passion,  for  then  His  dying  eyes  would  have  seen  no 
mother's  heart  pierced  through  and  through  by  a  sword  of  sorrow.  He 
might  have  lived  alone,  gathering  around  Him  no  band  of  disciples  to 
share  His  deepest  thoughts,  and  know  Him  as  friends  and  brothers  know 
a  brother  and  a  friend  :  but  then  Judas  could  never  have  betrayed  Him, 
the  taint  of  a -traitor's  kiss  could  never  have  been  laid  upon  His  sacred 
lips,  the  bitter  memory  of  a  traitor's  malice  would  have  been  wanting  to 
the  chalice  of  His  agony.  He  was  emphatically  the  Man  of  sorrows,  and 
He  sought  for  sorrows. 

(896) 


396  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Our  Lord  did  not  by  His  coming,  did  not  even  by  His  Passion,  at 
once  restore  man  to  the  original  perfection  from  which  he  had  fallen. 
Because  man  had  fallen  He  came  to  redeem  Him ;  but  not  the  less  be- 
cause of  Redemption  is  the  Fall  the  foundation-stone  of  Christianity. 
As  man's  free  will  had  brought  about  the  Fall,  so  God  deigned  to  recon- 
secrate that  will  by  exacting  from  it  a  co-operation  in  the  work  of  Re- 
demption. Hepce  man,  even  after  the  coming  of  our  Blessed  Lord,  is 
still  fallen  man ;  and  even  when  the  original  sin  that  was  the  prime  evil 
of  the  Fall  has  been  removed  by  a  man's  absorption  to  the  body  of 
Christ,  which  is  the  Church,  he  still  retains  a  corrupt  nature,  prone  to  sin, 
and  subject  to  sorrow.  And  hence  it  is  that,  even-  to  those  who  have 
participated  in  the  fruits  of  the  Redemption,  even  to  them  descends  the 
ancient  heritage  of  sorrow ;  and  they,  too,  can  take  up  the  inspired  books 
of  Solomon  and  Job,  and  find  in  them,  as  if  spoken  for  themselves,  those 
unuttered  and  unutterable  thoughts  that  have  weighed  so  heavily  on  two 
hundred  generations  of  human  hearts.  Even  to  His  Apostles  Jesus  would 
promise  only  the  hatred  of  the  world,  sufferings,  persecution,  death. 

You  will  ask  me,  then.  What  has  Jesus  done,  if,  even  to  those  who 
follow  Him,  He  has  left  the  legacy  of  sorrow — in  what  respect  are  His 
followers  the  better  of  His  coming?  My  brethren,  only  He  could  say, 
and  He  has  said  it — "  Your  sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy."  And  how? 
Let  me  first  ask,  and  answer,  the  question.  How  were  His  sorrows  turned 
into  the  joy  of  Redemption?  All  Christianity  answers — by  His  Passion 
and  death.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  answer  to  the  former  question,  for 
He  Himself  has  given  it  by  the  institution  of  the  Blessed  Eucharist ;  for, 
in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  "  as  often  as  you  eat  of  this  bread,  and  drink  of 
this  chalice,  you  shall  show  forth  the  death  of  the  Lord  until  He  come." 
Until  He  come !  Yes,  ye  followers  of  Christ ;  though  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  and  the  shores  of  Tiberias  shall  know  Him  in  the  flesh  no 
more ;  though  the  clouds  of  Olivet  have  hidden  away  from  the  eyes  of 
men  the  glory  of  His  transfigured  face ;  though  many  a  weary  day  and 
many  a  desolate  night  must  pass  over  humanity  till  the  brightness  of  His 
Second  Coming  shall  shine  above  the  Valley  of  Judgment ;  though  sor- 
row still  shall  be,  as  it  has  ever  been,  a  familiar  presence  by  mortal  fire- 
sides, the  one  unbidden  but  inevitable  guest  in  every  home  and  in  every 
heart ;  yet  for  you  remains  the  blessed  promise,  "  Your  sorrow  shall  be 
turned  into  joy  ";  because  Jesus  shall  still  be  with  you  in  this  memorial 
of  His  Passion,  and  ever,  in  the  darkest  hour,  shall  you  find  in  the  Sacra- 
ment of  the  Holy  Eucharist  Him  who  said,  and  has  never  ceased  to  say, 
"  Come  to  me,  all  you  that  labor  and  are  heavily  burdened,  and  I  will  re- 
fresh you." 

Is  it  wonderful,  then,  that  the  Church  to-day  should  interrupt  her 


FATHER  FARRELL.  397 

mourning,  and  turn  to  the  gaze  of  her  children  the  silver  lining  of  the 
cloud  that  this  week  of  awful  memories  has  flung  upon  her  temples  and 
her  altars  ?    , 

We  shall,  then,  briefly  consider  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  both  in  its 
promise  and  its  institution,  and  shall  endeavor  to  dwell  specially  upon 
such  points  of  the  history  of  this  holy  sacrament,  as  will  be  specially  cal- 
culated to  awaken  in  us  those  sentiments  of  love  toward  our  Blessed 
Lord,  which  this  sacrament  was  meant  to  kindle  and  to  keep  alive. 

One  day  our  Blessed  Lord  sate  teaching  in  the  synagogue  of  Caphar- 
naum.  It  was  a  special  occasion,  and  an  unusually  large  multitude 
thronged  to  hear  Him — a  special  occasion,  for,  only  the  day  before  He 
had  performed  a  miracle,  which  gave  rise,  even  in  the  minds  of  the  most 
careless,  to  perplexing  thoughts  as  to  what  manner  of  man  this  could  be 
who  exercised  such  power  over  the  seemingly  inflexible  laws  of  the  ma- 
terial world.  With  five  barley-loaves  and  two  fishes  He  had  satisfied  the 
hunger  of  five  thousand  persons,  and  many  of  those  who  had  witnessed 
the  miracle,  felt  a  natural  desire  to  gather  up  and  treasure  in  their  hearts, 
every  word  that  fell  from  the  sacred  lips  of  Him,  who  exercised  such 
power  and  manifested  such  compassion. 

It  is  the  way  of  God,  my  brethren,  always  to  make  one  favor  a  prepa- 
ration for  a  higher  one.  The  more  God  does  for  any  one,  the  more  on 
that  account  may  we  expect  Him  to  do.  It  is,  as  I  say,  the  way  of  God. 
If  the  silent  footsteps  of  the  dawn  be  on  the  mountain-tops,  they  are  but 
hastening  to  flood  the  world  with  the  brightness  of  the  noonday  splendor. 
If  the  tree  be  fair  its  beauty  bursts  into  a  blossom,  and  when  the  blossom 
has  spent  its  loveliness  it  but  gives  place  to  the  ripening  fruit.  If  God 
has  given  us  a  body  fashioned  to  its  every  purpose  with  marvellous  skill, 
it  was  that  He  might  breathe  into  it  an  immortal  soul  stamped  with  His 
living  image  ;  and  if  that  soul  be  endowed  with  wondrous  gifts,  it  is  only 
that  with  far-reaching  desires  it  may  stretch  into  the  infinite,  and  find  its 
last  end  and  its  everlasting  happiness  in  nothing  lower  or  less  perfect 
than  God  Himself.  And  so,  on  this  occasion,  if  Jesus  had  miraculously 
fed  five  thousand  with  five  loaves,  it  was  that  the  miracle  might  be  the 
guarantee  of  the  truth  of  the  promise  of  an  infinitely  higher  gift,  and  be 
tjhe  shadow — stupendous  though  it  was,  still  but  the  shadow — of  that 
unceasing  miracle  by  which  He  feeds  and  shall  feed  all  the  generations  of 
His  Church  with  the  sacred  bread  that  cometh  down  from  heaven,  and 
remains  with  the  children  of  men  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 

Accordingly,  He  begins  to  speak  to  them  of  some  mysterious  bread 
which  He  had  it  in  purpose  to  give  them,  a  bread  that  was  meant — not 
to  sustain  the  life  of  the  body,  which  must  one  day  end,  but  a  bread  that 
would  confer  a  life  that  could  never  perish.     And  when  He  had  raised 


398  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

their  expectations  and  their  eagerness  to  the  highest  pitch,  He  exclaimed, 
with  what  must  have  seemed  to  many  there  a  startling  abruptness,  "/am 
the  living  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven."  My  brethren,  the  miracle 
He  had  so  lately  wrought  had  surely  given  Him  a  right  to  have  His  as- 
sertion believed,  but  the  Jews  laughed  Him  to  scorn — they  had  their  own 
theory  about  Him — they  grew  indignant,  and  they  said,  "  Is  not  this  Je- 
sus, the  son  of  Joseph,  whose  father  and  mother  we  know?"  And  what 
has  Jesus  to  reply?  Does  He  hasten  to  explain  away  His  words  to  satisfy 
them  ?  On  the  contrary.  He  repeats  His  assertion  still  more  emphatically 
— "  I  am  the  living  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven :  if  any  man  shall 
eat  this  bread  he  shall  live  forever."  Ah,  but  He  says  more — says  a  thing 
still  more  calculated  to  try  their  faith — "  The  bread  that  I  will  give  is  my 
flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world."  That  they  clearly  understood  Him  to 
mean  literally  what  He  said  is  manifest  from  the  fact  that  they  never 
questioned  His  meaning,  but  set  themselves  at  once  to  dispute  His 
power.  "  The  Jews  therefore  strove  among  themselves,  how  can  this 
man  give  us  His  flesh  to  eat  ?  "  Surely  if  they  had  mistaken  His  meaning 
it  was  His  duty  to  have  corrected  the  mistake.  But  they  had  not  mis- 
taken His  meaning;  they  had  doubted  His  power,  as  heretics  have  been 
doing  ever  since ;  and  as  the  Church  has  always  answered  heretics,  so  He 
answered  the  Jews,  by  placing  under  the  sanction  of  a  threat  the  doctrine 
which  He  had  previously  taught  as  a  blessed  promise.  "  Except  you  eat 
of  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  drink  His  blood,  you  shall  not  have 
life  in  you."  Some  of  those  who  had  been  His  disciples  walked  with 
Him  no  more,  as  heretics  have  been  doing  ever  since  they  had  been  be- 
lieving, not  in  Him,  but  in  their  own  judgment  about  Him,  and  when 
their  judgment  was  offended  their  faith  was  gone.  Jesus  turned  to  His 
Apostles,  and  asked  them,  "Will  you  also  go  away?"  and  St.  Peter,  as 
if  in  anticipation  of  the  papal  authority  and  infallibility  which  he  and  his 
successors  were  afterward  to  enjoy,  gave  an  answer  that  makes  faith  in 
the  Holy  Eucharist  at  once  supremely  easy  and  supereminently  rational 
— "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?     Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life." 

Nor  do  we,  my  brethren,  know  any  one  to  whom  we  shall  go,  no  other 
than  Jesus,  speaking  through  Peter  and  His  Church,  and  declaring,  in 
words  that  stand  forever  against  the  doubt  of  the  heretic  and  the  scoff 
of  the  unbeliever,  that  "  His  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  His  blood  drink 
indeed." 

And  time  passed  on — a  time  marked  by  the  teaching,  and  preaching, 
and  miracles  of  our  Lord.  He  never  again  made  allusion  to  this  promise. 
It  lay  in  the  depths  of  His  loving  heart,  waiting  for  a  time  when  its  fulfil- 
ment wduld  gather  around  itself  every  circumstance  that  would  be  calcu- 
lated to  make  it  memorable  forever.     The  time  came  when  the  clouds  of 


FATHER  FARRELL.  399 

the  coming  Passion  began  to  gather  deep  and  dark  about  our  Blessed 
Lord.  Accordingly,  in  the  room  of  the  Last  Supper,  we  read  that  "  Jesus 
took  bread,  and  blessed  and  broke,  and  gave  to  His  disciples,  and  said, 
Take  ye  and  eat,  this  is  my  body:  and  taking  the  chalice,  He  gave 
thanks,  and  gave  to  them,  saying.  Drink  ye  all  of  this,  for  this  is  my  blood 
of  the  new  testament  which  shall  be  shed  for  many  to  the  remission  of 
sins." 

My  brethren,  having  uttered  these  sacred  and  memorable  words  I 
shall  not  stay  to  dwell  upon  them,  and  for  this  reason — I  should  fear  to 
spoil  by  a  single  word  of  comment  the  sublime  simplicity  of  words  that 
were  formed  in  the  loving  heart  and  uttered  by  the  sacred  lips  of  Jesus 
Christ  Himself.  He  would  not,  He  could  not  juggle  with  the  meaning 
of  human  words,  or  with  the  understanding  of  His  creatures,  and  any- 
thing like  discussion  on  the  matter,  after  Jesus  has  spoken,  must  have  as 
its  basis  that  blasphemous  question  of  those  at  Capharnaum,  the  first 
heretics  on  the  subject  of  the  Blessed  Eucharist — "  How  can  this  man 
give  us  his  flesh  to  eat  ?  "  When  God,  when  the  Son  of  God  speaks,  let 
even  human  reason  decide,  whether  it  is  for  us  to  reverently  accept  His 
words,  or  begin  to  put  limits  of  our  own  to  the  Divine  omnipotence.  It 
is  enough  for  us  that  Jesus  has  said  it.  I  therefore  believe  it,  and  you 
believe  it,  as  firmly  as  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  God  or  of  ourselves; 
and  on  this  belief  both  you  and  I  are  ready  to  stake  our  hopes  of  heaven, 
our  immortal  souls. 

I  shall  pass,  then,  to  those  other  words,  spoken  on  the. same  occasion, 
and  which  the  eye  of  faith  sees  written  above  every  altar  where  Mass  has 
since  been  said.  When  our  Lord  had  completed  the  solemn  act  of  con- 
secration. He  said  to  His  disciples,  "  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me."  He 
was  about  to  die.  The  powers  of  earth  and  hell  were  about  to  have  their 
triumph  for  the  time — the  Shepherd  was  to  be  stricken,  and  the  flock  dis- 
persed. I  ask  you,  my  brethren — nay,  I  would  even  ask,  if  such  were 
present,  those  who  do  not  believe  at  all  in  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ — 
was  it  not  amongst  the  sublimest  sayings  that  the  world  has  treasured  in 
its  memory?  A  Man  who  had  come  to  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  who 
was  already  looking  over  into  the  abyss  of  death,  spends  the  last  free 
hour  His  enemies  will  leave  Him  in  the  endeavor  to  make  the  memory 
of  Him  as  lasting  as  the  world  itself.  For  I  ask  again,  is  it  not  a  fact, 
patent  to  all  men,  whether  they  believe  in  His  divinity  or  not,  whether 
they  be  Catholics  or  not,  is  it  not  a  simple  fact,  that  ever  since  this  ver}-^ 
thing  has  been  done,  in  memory  of  Him  who  did  it  first?  The  command 
that  fell  from  lips  that  even  while  they  uttered  it  had  almost  received  the 
consecration  of  death,  that  command  was  not  only  a  command,  but  a 
prophecy :  and  the  command  has  found  obedience,  and  the  prophecy  fulfil- 


400  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

ment,  at  every  altar  that  has'  since  been  crowned  by  the  crucified  image 
of  Jesus  Christ.  And  where  has  that  been  done  which  Jesus  did  ?  Ah, 
my  brethren,  heretics,  taking  the  Holy  Gospel  from  the  guardian  hand  of 
the  Church,  have  striven  to  do  it  many  a  time,  but  they  have  done  it  with 
wavering  faith,  and  with  uncertain  voice,  incredulous  of  the  love  or  of  the 
power  of  Jesus,  explaining  away,  even  while  they  uttered  them,  the  very 
words  they  uttered.  The  thing  itself  that  Jesus  did,  has  been  done,  and 
done  as  He  did  it,  only  by  the  anointed  hands  of  the  priests  of  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church.  But  to  you,  my  brethren,  children  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  I  wish  to  dwell  upon  two  things  involved  in  these  words,  that 
will  illustrate  in  a  signal  manner  the  love  of  our  Blessed  Lord  in  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Eucharist. 

There  are  two  things  that  no  human  power  can  ever  overcome,  and 
these  two  things  are  time  and  space.  We  cannot  make  the  past  present, 
we  cannot  make  the  distant  near.  Memory,  strive  as  it  may,  gives  back 
but  the  shadow  of  the  past.  Imagination  seeks  to  picture  a  distant 
scene ;  it  but  succeeds  in  raising  before  the  mind  the  phantom  of  a  far-off 
place.  Christ  in  the  flesh,  as  He  was  on  earth,  we  cannot  see,  for  be- 
tween us  and  that  sight  lie  eighteen  hundred  years.  We  shall  not  see  the 
face  of  Christ  our  Lord  till  the  angel  of  death  has  touched  our  eyes,  and 
we  see  it  shining  in  terror  or  in  love  from  the  throne  of  judgment.  Nay, 
the  places  consecrated  by  His  earthly  presence,  by  the  memories  of  His 
footsteps,  and  the  traditions  of  His  love,  even  these  we  cannot  see,  for 
many  a  weary  league  of  land  and  sea  stretches  between  us  and  that  holy 
eastern  land.  Time  and  space  stand  between  the  Gospel  and  ourselves, 
and  no  human  hand  can  move  those  everlasting  barriers.  But  in  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Eucharist  Jesus  had  levelled  them  to  the  dust.  And 
how  ?  That  consecration  in  the  supper-room  at  Jerusalem  is  separated 
from  us — first,  by  time :  to  bring  it  near  it  was  necessary  to  make  it  per- 
petual. It  is  separated  from  us  by  space,  it  was  necessary  to  make  it  so 
common  that  it  could  be  witnessed  everywhere.  These  two  miracles  were 
effected  by  these  five  words,  ^'■Hoc  facite  in  meant  commemorationem.'* 
For,  by  these  words  Jesus  made  the  consecration  of  the  Holy  Eucharist 
perpetual,  and  He  made  it  common.     Let  us  examine  this  a  little. 

It  is  conceivable  that  our  Blessed  Lord,  having  determined  to  insti- 
tute the  Holy  Eucharist,  might  have  consecrated  just  once  at  the  Last 
Supper,  and  left  the  memory  of  that  sublime  action  to  cheer  the  future 
generations  of  His  Church.  To  those  few  and  faithful  who  were  then 
present  He  might  have  said,  "You  are  my  Apostles,  chosen  from  the 
world,  the  heralds  of  my  Gospel,  the  pillars  of  my  Church.  A  long  toil 
is  before  you  and  a  weary  fight.  You  will  bear  my  Name  before  kings, 
who  will  persecute  you  ;  before  peoples,  who  will  clamor  for  your  blood. 


FATHER  FARRELL.  401 

To  do  the  work  I  have  given  you  to  do,  will  strain  the  energies  and  tax 
the  resources  of  your  bodies  and  your  souls.  The  world  is  hard,  and 
against  that  hard  world  you  will  have  to  break  your  hearts  before  you 
conquer  it.  Though  yours  in  the  issue  shall  be  the  victory,  yet  shall  it 
cost  you  tears  and  blood.  Weeping  blood  and  tears  shall  you  sow  the 
seed  in  the  ungrateful  furrows  of  the  world,  and  many  a  toilsome  day 
shall  pass,  and  many  a  perilous  night,  before  you  garner  in  my  kingdom 
the  sheaves  of  the  harvest."  But  He  might  have  added,  "  Fear  not ; 
commensurate  with  the  work  you  have  to  do,  and  with  the  perils  you 
have  to  encounter,  shall  be  the  support  I  am  about  to  give  you.  How- 
ever long  the  way,  you  can  never  falter ;  however  stern  the  conflict,  you 
can  never  flinch ;  for  I  have  reserved  for  you,  and  for  you  only,  this 
Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist." 

But  has  Jesus  done  this?  Ah,  my  brethren,  answer  for  yourselves 
the  question.  You  are  not  Apostles  ;  you  have  never  borne — shall  never 
have  to  bear — the  burden  of  the  Church.  Conquer  your  own  passions, 
and  you  will  have  achieved  the  greatest  conquest  that  God  has  called  on 
you  to  achieve  ;  and  yet,  even  to  you  has  He  left  the  treasures  of  this 
Sacrament  of  Love.  Time  has  rolled  away,  but  Jesus,  in  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist, is  present  with  you  still.  Not  for  Apostles  alone  was  this  Heav- 
enly Bread.  Priests  have  carried  it  on  through  all  the  centuries  of 
Christian  time,  and  it  has  strengthened  martyrs,  inspired  confessors, 
sanctified  virgins — has  been  not  only  the  bread  of  the  strong,  but  of  the 
weak,  and  has  been  given  even  to  sinners  like  ourselves.  For  Jesus  has 
made  this  gift  perpetual  in  His  Church. 

Again,  Jesus  might  have  ordained  that  the  Blessed  Eucharist  should 
be  consecrated,  say,  once  in  a  century  in  some  grand  temple  in  the  favored 
city  by  him  who  holds  in  the  Church  the  highest  place  on  earth.  And 
had  Jesus  so  ordained,  the  man  would  think  it  the  glory  of  his  lifetime 
who  had  once  been  present  at  a  scene  so  unutterably  solemn.  Has  He 
done  even  this  ?  Well,  my  brethren,  I  myself  have  seen  the  Vicar  of 
Christ,  standing  beneath  the  dome  of  the  grandest  temple  that  human 
hands  have  ever  raised,  engaged  in  the  consecration  of  the  Eucharist. 
Lights  blazed,  and  incence  burned,  and  eye  and  heart  were  overwhelmed 
by  the  glories  of  St.  Peter's.  But  I  have  seen  also,  and  you  have  seen, 
the  self-same  act  performed  in  humble  chapels,  nay,  beneath  the  lowly 
roof-tree  of  an  Irish  cabin,  where  Mass  is  said,  and  where  Jesus  comes 
down  as  really  as  He  ever  came  at  the  grandest  Mass  in  the  world's  state- 
liest temple.  Yes,  Jesus  has  made  His  greatest  gift  common  as  the  very 
elements  that  sustain  our  life.  Wherever  the  Church  has  come,  she  has 
first  built  an  altar  and  offered  the  unbloody  sacrifice.  She  was  driven 
into  the  Catacombs — the  altar  stood  hard  by  the  martyr's  tomb;  and  to 


402  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

this  day,  wherever  the  Catholic  missioner  has  set  his  foot,  his  first  act  has 
been  to  raise  an  altar  and  call  down  the  Lord  of  Heaven  to  take  posses- 
sion of  a  new  kingdom. 

And  why  has  Jesus  thus  exhausted  the  resources  of  His  wisdom  and 
the  treasures  of  His  love?  Why  has  He  determined  to  remain  with  us 
everywhere  and  forever  in  this  Sacrament  of  His  Love?  Why  is  Jesus 
present  upon  our  altars?  Is  it  that  the  Church  may  group  around  His 
sacramental  throne  everything  of  beautiful  and  grand  that  human  genius 
can  imagine  and  human  hand  make  manifest  to  sense  ?  Is  it  that  the 
lights  may  blaze  and  the  incense  burn,  and  the  loving  reverence  of  the 
human  heart  translate  itself  into  music  that  touches  us  to  tears?  Is  it 
that  flowers  may  lend  their  perfume  and  their  grace  to  the  holiness  of  our 
tabernacles,  and  that  long  processions  of  the  faithful  may  wind  down,  as 
it  were,  through  all  the  centuries,  singing  the  *'  Pange  lingua  "  with  un- 
ceasing voice,  that  swells  into  ever-widening  circles  as  kingdom  after  king- 
dom is  added  to  the  Church  of  God  ?  Yes,  it  is  for  these  purposes  ;  but  it 
is  for  more  than  these.  It  is  for  these — for  all  the  ritual  magnificence 
of  the  Church  has  grown  out  of  and  around  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  find- 
ing there  its  measure  and  its  end.  It  is  for  more  than  these — for  when 
the  flowers  bloom  their  fairest,  and  when  the  music  is  sweetest  and  most 
touching,  fairer  far  than  any  flower  that  earth  can  grow,  is  the  love  that  is 
throned  upon  the  altar,  and  a  voice  sweeter  than  any  earthly  music  is 
coming  from  the  tabernacle  whence  Jesus  speaks,  with  a  deeper  melody 
and  a  fuller  meaning  than  in  any  other  of  His  marvellous  works — 
speaks  and  says,  "  Come  to  me,  all  you  that  labor  and  are  burdened,  and 
I  will  refresh  you." 

Why  is  Jesus  present  in  the  tabernacle  ?  No  need  to  tell  you  who 
gather  so  often  around  the  altar.  You  know  it  with  a  knowledge  that 
is  widened  by  every  Communion  you  receive,  by  every  visit  you  make  to 
the  Blessed  Sacrament. 

These  two  things  are  the  sole  return  He  asks  for  the  unimaginable 
prodigality  of  love  that  He  has  shown  in  this  Holy  Sacrament — to  visit 
Him  as  He  waits  in  the  silence  of  the  tabernacle ;  to  receive  Him  often 
in  the  Holy  Communion. 

My  brethren,  there  is  no  faithful  child  of  the  Catholic  Church  who 
does  not  place  it  amongst  the  most  cherished  hopes  and  fondest  wishes 
of  his  heart  that,  when  the  parting  hour  is  close  at  hand,  and  the  fright- 
ed soul  shrinks  back  awe-stricken  before  the  close  vision  of  death,  he 
may  not  die  till  he  has  received  Jesus  in  the  last  Viaticum.  Do  you  wish 
to  secure  for  yourselves  that  unspeakable  blessing?  Well,  as  a  man  lives, 
so  shall  he  die.  If  during  life  you  have  been  devoted  to  Jesus  in  the 
Blessed  Sacrament ;  if  you  have  loved  to  rest  within  the  shadow  of  the 


FATHER  FARRELL. 


403 


altar ;  if  you  have  felt  and  cherished  a  sacred  hunger  for  the  bread  of 
life ;  if  you  have  gone  to  the  Holy  Communion  worthily  and  often :  then 
be  sure  that  in  death  He  will  not  desert  you.  When  the  grasp  of  earth 
is  loosening,  when  the  ways  of  time  are  done,  when  the  tired  heart  throbs 
on  to  the  everlasting  silence,  then  Jesus  will  be  brought  to  you  in  the 
last  Viaticum.  His  gracious  presence  will  cheer  the  loneliness  that  the 
breaking  of  the  bonds  of  life  and  earthly  love  leaves  in  the  troubled 
heart.  His  gracious  hand  will  wipe  away  the  tears  of  your  agony,  and 
He  will  pass  from  the  soul  He  shall  have  sanctified  to  the  throne  of 
judgment,  whence  He  shall  pronounce  upon  you  the  blessed  sentence  of 
everlasting  life. 


GOOD   FRIDAY. 

"  Christus  pro  nobis  mortuus  est." — Rom.  v.  9. 

[HERE  is  a  something  of  fascination  even  in  the  ordinary 
stories  of  human  sorrow.  They  reach  a  depth  which  stories 
of  human  triumph  cannot  reach.  They  bring  with  them  a 
deeper  pathos,  a  sublimer  meaning ;  and  they  win  for  those 
who  suffer,  a  sympathy  too  sacred  to  be  lavished  on  anything  less  noble 
than  sorrow.  Take  the  lowliest  life  man  ever  lived ;  surround  it,  if  you 
will,  with  every  mean  commonplace  that  can  strip  human  life  of-  the 
innate  dignity  that  is  in  it ;  place  a  man  in  what  servile  position  you 
will ;  yet  if,  amidst  all  the  degradation  of  circumstances,  you  throw 
around  him  the  mantle  of  many  sorrows,  he  will  make  his  appeal  to  the 
compassion  of  the  human  heart ;  and  his  claim  will  be  allowed,  and  men 
who  never  looked  upon  his  face  will  drop  a  tear  over  the  story  of  his 
sorrows. 

But  why,  upon  a  night  like  this,  do  I  stay  to  speak  of  merely  human 
sorrows  ?  How  comes  it  that,  with  the  figure  of  the  dead  Christ  loom- 
ing through  the  shadows  of  the 'Church's  mourning,  I  dare  to  turn  my 
thoughts  and  yours  to  any  sorrow  less  sacred  than  the  sorrow  that 
crowned  with  a  crown  of  agony,  the  brow  of  the  expiring  Saviour?  Ah, 
to  me  the  reason  is  obvious.  It  is  because  the  human  heart  shrinks  back 
instinctively  from  such  a  mystery  of  sorrow  as  we  contemplate  to-day. 
It  is  because,  recognizing  in  sorrows  which,  compared  to  this,  shrink  into 
insignificance,  a  depth  we  almost  fail  to  reach,  we  feel  the  almost  hopeless- 
ness of  bringing  home  to  ourselves  with  anything  like  completeness,  the 
history  of  our  Saviour's  Passion.  We  go  up  the  hill  of  Calvary,  as  the 
three  disciples  went  up  Mount  Thabor ;  as  they,  to  see  Him  glorified,  so 
we,  to  see  Him  wrapped  around,  with  all  the  ignominy  that  came  of  His 
self-sacrifice ;  and  we,  though  crying  aloud  like  them,  "  Lord,  it  is  good 
for  us  to  be  here,"  like  them,  too,  veil  our  faces  before  the  vision,  and  fall 
stricken  to  the  earth  by  the  revelation  of  that  stupendous  mystery  of 
sorrow. 

And  yet,  it  is  not  in  a  spirit  that  is  all  sadness  we  come  to  celebrate 
the  Passion  of  our  Lord.     Though  the  Church  has  put  aside  her  crimson 
and  her  gold,  for  the  robes  of  mourning ;  though  she  has  stripped  her 
(4041 


FATHER  FARRELL.  405 

altars  of  everything  of  beauty  that  might  seem  a  sign  of  joy ;  though 
she  pours  forth  her  pathetic  lamentation  over  the  blood-shedding  by 
which  she  herself  was  purchased ;  yet  she  cannot  but  look  to  the  tidings 
of  great  joy  that  lie  beneath  the  surface.  She  cannot,  when  she  bethinks 
her  of  the  blessings  which  it  brought,  help  styling  this  day  emphatically 
"  good  ";  and  when  in  her  processions  the  cross  is  raised  aloft,  she  lights 
again  the  lights  upon  her  altars,  and,  as  she  marches  on  beneath  the 
sacred  emblem,  she  comes  to  see  in  it  a  victorious  standard,  and  her  song 
of  sorrow  swells  into  a  peal  of  triumph. 

And  why  should  it  be  otherwise?  If  Jesus  died,  did  He  not  die  to 
save  a  fallen  world?  If  He  lay  in  agony  in  Gethsemani,  did  He  not  bear 
up  the  burden  of  the  sins  of  men  ?  If  hands  and  feet  were  dug,  and  side 
pierced,  was  it  not  that  salvation  might  flow  out  upon  the  world  ?  And 
if  He  hung  three  hours  of  mortal  agony  upon  the  Cross,  did  He.  not 
hang  there  an  all-atoning  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men  ?  Yes,  if  the  mys- 
tery of  Calvary  be  a  mystery  of  infinite  sorrow,  it  is  a  mystery  no  less  of 
infinite  love. 

Passing  frorh  the  supper-room  of  Jerusalem,  Jesus,,  with  His  disciples, 
crossed  the  brook  of  Cedron,  and  passed  up  the  Mount  of  Olives  to  the 
Garden  of  Gethsemani ;  and  there  He  said  to  His  disciples,  "  My  soul  is 
sorrowful,  even  unto  death,"  and  taking  with  Him  Peter  and  James  and 
John,  He  went  apart  a  little  and  entered  into  His  agony.  The  night 
wind  faintly  rustles  through  the  olives  ;  the  white  moonlight  falls  softly 
on  the  place ;  the  voices  of  the  day  are  hushed  to  silence ;  night  has 
brought  its  peace  to  all  the  sons  of  men.  To  all  ?  Ah,  not  to  all ;  for 
there,  apart  from  human  consolation,  with  none  to  look  on  Him  save 
God  and  one  favored  angel,  a  Man  lies  prostrate.  His  whole  frame  is 
convulsed.  His  body  racked  with  deathly  agony,  moans  of  anguish  break 
upon  the  silence,  and  as  the  sweat  streams  down  His  face,  each  drop  is  a 
red  drop  of  blood.  It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  see  a  strong  man  writhe 
with  anguish — a  dreadful  thing  to  see  a  strong  man  weep  ;  but  oh !  what 
is  it  when  the  tears  are  tears  of  blood ! 

And  who  is  the  lonely  Sufferer?  Ah,  but  a  few  short  days  ago  His 
ears  were  filled  with  loud  "  hosannas,"  the  palm  branches  were  strewn  be- 
neath His  feet.  He  made  His  entry  into  Jerusalem  as  a  king.  But  a  little 
while  ago,  and  He  had  passed  among  the  people  of  the  land  scattering 
blessings  through  their  homesteads  as  He  went.  There  had  been  healing 
in  His  touch,  and  more  than  once  His  voice  had  broken  the  spell  of 
death.  Who  is  He  ?  A  few  years  ago  earth  had  not  seen  Him,  yet  He, 
the  person  who  lies  prostrate  in  His  agony,  was  from  all  eternity  the 
eternal  Son  of  the  eternal  Father.  Oh,  what  mystery  is  here  !  Who  has 
been  able  to  draw  down  the  Son  of  the  living  God  from  the  height  of 


406  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

glory  to  the  profoundest  depths  of  sorrow  ?  Who  has,  to  all  outward 
seeming,  conquered  the  Eternal  Word?  Has  the  old  struggle  that 
Michael  crushed,  revived  again,  and,  after  long  waiting,  have  the  rebel 
angels  got  the  victory  at  last  ?  Not  so.  Two  things  have  done  this  to 
Jesus — love  and  sin :  love,  that  would  not  see  the  world  lost  because  of 
sin ;  sin,  that  would  have  ruined  the  world  but  for  love.  Sin  has  done 
this:  as  Jesus  lies  in  agony  He  is  crushed  to  the  blood-stained  earth,  by 
the  weight  of  all  the  sins  that  shall  ever  blacken  the  annals  which  the  re- 
cording angel  writes  of  the  fallen  world.  The  sin  of  Adam — the  fountain 
of  earth's  many  miseries — the  fratricide  of  Cain,  the  traitorous  kiss  of 
Judas,  all  the  public  sins  that  have  branded  nations  With  disgrace  and 
made  the  homes  of  peoples  desolate,  the  murders,  the  robberies,  the  im- 
purities with  which  earth  shall  be  defiled  unto  the  end — all  press  with  crush- 
ing weight  upon  the  overladen  heart  of  the  agonizing  Saviour.  The  sins 
that  dim  the  glory  of  youth,  and  those  that  make  unholy  the  death-bed 
of  expiring  age ;  the  secret  sins,  committed  where  no  eye  but  the  eye  of 
God  might  see  them,  unknown  as  yet,  but  which,  surely  as  God  liveth, 
shall  be  shown  in  all  their  black  enormity,  before  the  assembled  race  of 
Adam,  when  the  angel's  trump  of  doom  shall  have  quickened  the  dead 
world.  The  treachery  of  false  friends,  the  slanders  of  lying  tongues,  the 
blasphemies  of  impious  lips,  the  unholy  meditations  of  impure  hearts,  the 
wiles  of  the  seducer,  the  unspeakable  malice  of  the  corrupters  of  youth- 
ful innocence — all  the  sins  of  men,  were  pressing  at  that  hour  upon  the 
innocent  soul  of  Jesus.  He  had  taken  them  upon  Him  as  if  they  were 
His  own ;  He  had  clothed  Himself  with  them  as  with  a  garment — they 
clung  to  Him  and  mastered  Him  ;  and  but  for  a  miracle  of  love,  a  miracle 
wrought  that  He  might  reserve  Himself  for  further  suffering,  He  would 
have  died  alone  amid  the  olives  of  Gethsemani.  No  wonder  that  His 
soul  was  sorrowful  unto  death.  No  wonder  the  cry  should  have  gone  up 
from  His  stricken  heart,  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  chalice  pass 
from  mel"  What !  does  He  shrink  from  the  bitter  draught  ?  Are  the 
world's  hopes  about  to  be  destroyed  ?  Are  the  prophecies  of  the 
prophets  about  to  be  made  vain  ?  Ah,  no.  Sharp  and  bitter  though 
His  sufferings  were,  keen  though  the  agony,  terrible  as  was  the  prospect 
of  the  sufferings  yet  to  come,  in  that  sublime  moment  love  conquered 
with  an  easy  victory,  and,  without  a  pause,  our  Saviour,  now  indeed  our 
Saviour  by  solemn  acceptance  of  the  sacrifice,  cried  aloud,  "  Not  my  will, 
but  Thine  be  done." 

And  now  I  will  ask  each  of  you  a  very  solemn  question — What  sins 
of  yours  weighed  heavy  on  the  heart  of  Jesus ;  what  drops  of  bitterness 
have  you  poured  into  the  chalice  of  His  sorrows  ?  Who  dare  answer — 
who  dare  rise  up  and  tell  aloud  the  crimes  of  his,  that  swelled  the  torrent 


FATHER  FARRELL.  407 

of  the  sorrows  of  Gethsemani  ?  Well,  be  silent  if  you  will ;  but  enter 
into  the  secret  chamber  of  your  own  souls,  that  dark  spot  where  sin  has 
buried  the  past  in  a  grave  so  unholy,  that  even  memory  fears  to  visit  it 
again,  and  there,  weeping  contrite  tears,  let  them  fall  into  the  chalice, 
and  sweeten  the  bitter  draught  which  Jesus  emptied  to  the  dregs. 

But  hark !  the  silence  of  the  night  is  broken  by  the  tramp  of  hurrying 
feet.  Lights  strike  through  the  distant  shadows;  the  lonely  agony  is 
done ;  and  Jesus,  rising  from  the  blood-stained  earth,  goes  forth  to  meet 
His  enemies.  One  foe  outstrips  the  rest,  and  hastens  to  his  prey.  Nearer 
he  comes  and  nearer.  A  foe,  did  I  say  ?  Ah,  surely  not  a  foe  !  There 
is  a  smile  upon  his  lips.  Is  not  this  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve  chosen  by  Him 
who  read  the  human  heart  like  an  open  book — Judas,  who,  but  a  few 
short  hours  ago,  assisted  at  the  first  Mass,  and  partook  of  the  sublimest 
mystery  of  love  that  even  the  heart  of  the  Man  God  could  devise  ?  Yes, 
it  is  even  Judas ;  but,  alas  for  human  gratitude  and  human  faith,  Judas 
has  sold  his  Master — has  put  away  the  memory  of  three  blessed  years  of 
companionship  with  his  God — has  trampled  on  the  countless  graces  of  a 
call  to  the  apostleship.  He  began  the  night  with  the  first  bad  Com- 
munion, and  now,  O  God  !  the  traitor's  lips  are  on  the  lips  of  Jesus. 
And  He — He  whose  eye  discerns  the  blackness  of  the  treacherous  heart 
— never  thinks  of  shrinking  from  the  traitor's  kiss.  The  eyes  that*  look 
down  to  the  very  depths  of  the  traitor's  heart,  are  eyes  of  mercy  still. 
The  lips  fresh  from  the  defilement  of  the  traitor's  kiss,  open  to  call  the 
traitor  "  friend."  What !  Judas  called  a  friend  by  lips  that  never  lie ! 
Ah  !  a  mystery  is  here  of  long-suffering  love,  which  narrow  hearts  like 
ojjrs  can  never  compass.  "  Friend,  for  what  hast  thou  come  ?  "  Men 
would  call  it  irony ;  but  irony,  the  child  of  scorn,  never  found  a  place  on 
the  lips  of  Jesus,  He  pauses,  as  it  were,  upon  the  threshold  of  His  pub- 
lic suffering,  to  give  voice  to  a  thought  that  must  have  risen  in  our  hearts 
at  the  spectacle  of  His  lonely  agony — that,  black  though  be  the  traitor- 
ous heart,  and  though  the  smile  upon  the  sinner's  lip  may  be  a  lie  before 
high  Heaven,  yet  there  is  no  hour  while  the  life-blood  flows,  and  while 
the  sinner's  heart  throbs  on,  in  which  Jesus  is  not  ready,  nay,  yearning, 
to  take  him  to  His  heart  again. 

Jesus  is  led  unresisting  before  the  High-Priest,  and  stands,  with  all 
the  sublime  patience  of  a  determined  purpose,  bearing  the  jeer  and  the 
jibe  and  the  buffet — hurried  from  Caiphas  to  Pilate,  and  from  Pilate  to 
Herod,  through  the  streets  where  He  had  often  passed,  scattering  bless- 
ings upon  those  who  mocked  Him  now  in  what  seemed  His  fall.  But 
even  the  malicious  ingenuity  of  those  who  thirsted  for  His  blood,  fails  to 
bring  against  Him  proof  of  a  single  crime.  Pilate,  a  stranger  to  the  local 
prejudices  of  the  Jews,  can  find  no  cause  in  Him,  and  publicly  declares 


408  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Him  innocent.  But  they  hunger  for  His  life :  and  voices,  that  but  a  day 
or  two  before  had  cried  "  hosanna,"  shrieked  hoarsely  now,  "  Away  with 
Him,  away  with  Him ;  crucify  Him,  crucify  Him."  And  Pilate,  the  un- 
just judge,  worked  upon  by  a  skilful  appeal  to  his  personal  interest, 
yielded  to  their  outcries.  Yielded,  but  not  without  a  struggle,  for  he  who 
was  not  noble  enough  to  fight  for  justice  against  personal  interest,  yet 
felt  remorse  enough  to  make  him  stoop  to  artifice.  He  brings  before 
them  Jesus  and  Barabbas.  One  of  them  must  needs  be  put  to  death : 
which  it  is  to  be,  let  the  people  judge.  Who  Jesus  was,  we  know  ;  but 
who  was  Barabbas  ?  A  notorious  malefactor,  a  robber  and  a  murderer, 
one  who  had  outraged  every  law,  human  and  divine,  and  trampled  on 
every  ordinance  that  keeps  society  together.  His  hand  had  been  against 
every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him,  till  at  length,  wearied  by 
his  crimes,  men  had  risen  against  him,  as  against  some  savage  beast :  he 
had  been  hunted  to  his  lair,  and  all  Jerusalem  had  rejoiced  when  he  was 
led  fettered  to  her  prisons.  And  yet,  impelled  by  the  demon  passion  of 
mad  cruelty  and  furious  injustice,  they  have  taken  Barabbas,  and  rejected 
Jesus,  and  in  words  that  thrill  one  in  the  reading,  even  after  eighteen 
hundred  years,  they  invoked  on  themselves  the  curse  that  has  worked  so 
visibly  ever  since — "  His  blood  be  upon  us  and  upon  our  children." 
Surely,  it  would  seem  that,  even  the  far-reaching  wisdom  of  God  was  well- 
nigh  exhausted  in  devising  every  circumstance  that  could  invest  the  pas- 
sion with  unexampled  bitterness.  But,  while  we  reprobate  the  conduct  of 
the  Jewish  rabble,  and  turn  with  horror  from  the  story  of  their  injustice,  lo, 
a  question  that  must  be  answered,  starts  up  from  the  depths  of  awakened 
conscience — Can  it  be  possible  that  we,  even  we,  have  sometimes  rejected 
Jesus,  and  taken  to  our  hearts  the  Barabbas  of  some  vile  passion? 

The  sentence  has  been  passed,  and  Jesus  has  been  handed  over  to  a 
brutal  soldiery.  Who  can  tell  the  story  of  that  long  night  of  anguish ! 
We  may  not  pause  to  mark  the  stages  of  that  agony;  a  lifetime  would 
not  suffice  to  realize  a  tithe  of  the  bitterness  that  was  in  it.  We  may 
not  pause  to  detail  how  the  scourge  tore  and  hissed  through  His  sacred 
flesh,  and  left  such  disfigurement  upon  Him,  that  even  Mary,  save  by  the 
unerring  instinct  of  a  mother's  love,  would  scarce  have  known  the  Son 
whom  she  had  borne  ;  how  the  thorny  crown  pressed  heavy  on  His  aching 
temples,  each  thorn  a  very  passion  in  itself ;  how  the  soldiers  mocked  and 
spat  upon  Him,  and  vexed  His  overborne  heart  with  words  of  bitterest 
insult ;  how  His  disciples  fled  from  Him  in  His  sorest  need ;  and  how 
one,  the  one  whom  He  had  distinguished  above  the  rest,  frighted  by  the 
sound  of  a  woman's  voice,  thrice  denied  Him  with  an  oath. 

Laden,  at  length,  with  the  heavy  cross,  Jesus  goes  on  to  Calvary. 
Thrice  did   He  fall  upon  that  last  sad  journey,  and  thrice  the  brutal 


FATHER  FARRELL.  409 

soldiers  dragged  Him  to  His  feet  again.  Never  since  the  world  began 
was  seen,  and  never  shall  be  seen  again  till  the  world  shall  end,  a  journey 
tfuch  as  this.  Amid  the  yells  and  curses  of  a  furious  crowd,  uncheered 
save  by  the  tears  of  a  few  women  of  Jerusalem,  He  goes  onward  to  the 
doom  which  men  had  pronounced  against  their  God.  At  length  He 
comes  to  Calvary.  And,  oh  !  surely  now  there  has  been  suffering  enough  ; 
surely  God  will  stay  the  arm  of  His  vengeance  against  Him  who  is  laden 
with  the  self-imposed  burden  of  the  sins  of  men :  surely  God  will  be  as 
merciful  to  His  only-begotten  Son  as  He  was  of  old  to  the  son  of 
Abraham,  and  will  provide  another  victim.  But  no ;  there  comes  no 
voice  from  heaven  to  stay  the  sacrifice— the  Lord  of  Hosts  must  die. 

Stripped  violently  of  His  garments,  which  cling  to  His  wounded  flesh. 
He  is  laid  upon  the  cross,  and  the  execution  commences.  The  rough 
nails  tear  and  crash  through  bone,  and  sinew,  and  muscle;  the  heart 
grows  sick  with  agony,  the  frame  convulses,  and  through  the  tortured 
body  a  wave  of  anguish  surges,  as  if  upon  each  straining  nerve  there 
hung  a  separate  agonizing  life.  The  cross  is  lifted  up,  and  dropped  into 
its  place  with  a  shock  that  strains  each  nerve,  and  opens  every  wound 
again.  Three  hours — oh  !  what  hours  of  agony  unutterable — He  hung 
upon  the  cross,  and  then,  amid  the  darkness  of  an  affrighted  world,  bow- 
ing down  His  weary,  wounded  head,  crying  out  with  a  loud  voice,  "All 
is  consummated,"  Jesus  died.  Yes,  it  was  consummated — the  mysteries 
of  three-and-thirty  years  have  found  an  explanation  in  that  death-cry. 
The  chains  have  fallen  from  the  race  of  Adam — the  world  has  been 
redeemed. 

And  now,  standing  sadly  beneath  the  cross,  looking  up  through 
blinding  tears  on  the  face  of  the  dead  Christ,  we  ask — Who  has  done  this? 
is  there  one  who  listens  whose  soul  is  stained  with  deadly  sin  ?  To  him 
I  say,  thou  art  the  man.  Thou  it  was,  and  not  another,  who  pressed  the 
chalice  to  His  lips  amid  the  olives  of  Gethsemani ;  thou  it  was,  and  not 
another,  who  kissed  Him  with  the  treacherous  kiss  of  Judas;  thy  hand 
hath  plied  the  cruel  scourge,  hath  pressed  upon  His  aching  brow  the 
crown  of  thorns;  thou  hast  preferred  to  Him  the  robber,  Barabbas,  hast 
made  His  cross  so  heavy  and  so  hard  to  bear.  Yes ;  God  though  He  was, 
sinless  though  He  was,  thy  sin  hath  killed  Him. 

And  is  there  pardon  any  more  for  sin,  since  sin  has  done  a  deed  like 
this  ?  Ah  !  look  up  into  that  dead  face,  and  see,  if  even  death  has  had  the 
power  to  banish  the  lines  of  deepest  tenderness.  Who  dare  stand  beneath 
the  cross  and  say  that  it  is  hard  for  sin  to  be  forgiven  ?  Who,  in  those 
hours  of  agony — hours  the  most  sacred  and  most  solemn  that  the  world 
can  ever  witness — who  stood  by  Him  in  His  agony?  Mary  might  well 
be  there,  for  she  was  His  mother^  and  she  was  sinless;  John  might  well 


410 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


be  there,  for  Jesus  loved  him  for  his  purity ;  but  Magdalen — she,  wha 
but  a  little  while  ago  had  lifted  an  unblushing  brow  of  sin  in  the  streets 
of  Jerusilem — should  such  a  one  as  she  be  there  ?  Oh!  dear  Jesus,  Thoa 
wouldst  have  it  so  ;  and  what  sinner  can  hesitate  to  approach  Thee,  when 
he  knows  that  the  last  look  of  love  from  an  expiring  Saviour  was  shared 
alike  by  Mary  the  sinless  and  Mary  the  sinner. 

But,  one  thing  is  necessary — sincere  repentance.  With  it  Judas  had 
been  saved,  without  it  Peter  would  have  perished.  All-powerful  in  its 
efficacy  though  the  blood  of  Jesus  be,  there  is  just  one  thing  it  will  not 
do.  It  will  not,  may  not,  cannot  save  the  unrepenting  sinner.  Let  u& 
ask  Him  by  all  the  memories  of  which  this  night  is  full,  to  turn  on  us  such 
a  look  as  that  with  which  He  looke'd  at  Peter.  Let  us  ask  Mary — whom, 
in  His  hour  of  bitterest  anguish,  He  forgot  not  to  leave  us  as  our 
mother — to  turn  her  eyes  of  mercy  on  us.  And,  oh!  when  we,  too, 
come  to  die,  when  the  pale  lips  tremble  in  the  agony,  may  those  sweet 
names  be  last  to  linger  on  them.  And  when  our  weary  hearts  throb  on 
to  the  great  silence  of  death,  may  every  throb  go  up  to  God,  laden  with 
the  two  acts  we  learn  from  the  mystery  of  the  Cross — an  act  of  sorrow 
and  an  act  of  love.    Amen. 


THE  NATIVITY  OF  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN  MARY. 

ORE  than  three  thousand  years  ago,  an  inspired  voice  was 
lifted  up  to  tell  the  story  of  man's  life ;  and  it  was  told  in  a 
mournful  sentence,  for  the  voice  said  this :  "  Man  bom  of 
woman,  lives  but  for  a  little  time,  and  is  filled  with  many 
miseries."  So  it  had  been  from  the  beginning  until  then,  so  is  it  now, 
and  so  shall  it  be  till  the  angel  of  the  Judgment  shall  have  written  the 
last  page  of  the  long,  sad  history  of  the  human  heart.  The  wisdom  and 
the  experience  of  all  ages  have  been  prompt  to  testify,  that  man's  life  is 
nothing  like  a  holiday — that  it  is  in  all  cases  a  very  solemn,  and,  in  most 
cases,  a  very  sorrowful  thing,  whether  to  him  who  lives  it,  or  to  him 
who  ponders  on  it  in  his  heart. 

When  children  grow  out  of  the  unconsciousness  of  early  childhood ; 
when  they  begin  to  have  their  minds  gradually  opened  to  the  life  that  is 
theirs,  and  to  the  things  that  are  around  them ;  in  the  gladness  of  their 
young  hearts,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  their  happy  inexperience,  they 
fondly  mark  and  faithfully  observe  their  birthdays  as  they  come.  They 
mark  the  day  on  which  their  life  began,  as  a  day  of  happy  omen,  and 
they  call  upon  those  around  them  to  sympathize  in  their  happiness.  But, 
the  years  pass  fleetly  by,  and  each,  as  it  passes,  brings  its  measure  of 
experience,  and  leaves  its  load  of  care ;  and,  as  men  grow  up,  and  advance 
into  manhood,  they  strive  themselves  to  forget,  and  to  keep  out  of  the 
memory  of  others,  the  coming  of  their  birthdays.  They  begin  to  find 
out  what  the  world  is,  into  which  they  have  entered  by  their  birth.  They 
begin  to  feel  for  themselves,  the  truth — new  to  them  in  its  bitterness,  but 
older  than  Job  who  spoke  it  long  ago — "  Man  born  of  woman,  lives  but 
for  a  little  time,  and  is  filled  with  many  miseries." 

And  so  it  comes,  that  grown  men  who  have  entered  upon  the  battle 
of  life,  forget  their  birthdays,  or  cease  to  celebrate  them  with  any  special 
(    observance. 

And  even  the  Church  of  God,  the  guardian  under  Him  of  spiritual 
life ;  even  she,  when  she  takes  into  her  hands  the  record  of  some  noble 
life,  that  is  worthy  to  be  lifted  up  and  fixed  above  her  everlasting  altars; 
even  when  she  scans  with  the  keenness  of  her  infallible  vision  the  life  of 
a  saint — mark  you  this — she  does  not  fix  upon  the  birthday,  but  rather 

(411) 


412  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

on  the  deathday,  as  the  day  of  happiest  omen.  For,  though  that  saint 
be  now  in  heaven,  the  fight  was  not  won  when  he  was  born ;  many  a 
perilous  day  should  pass,  on  any  one  of  which  he  might  have  lost  the 
battle,  before  the  hand  of  death  would  place  the  laurel  on  his  brow ;  and 
hence,  over  him,  too,  as  he  lay  an  infant,  might  have  been  chanted  the 
mournful  words,  "  Man  born  of  woman,  lives  but  for  a  little  time,  and  is 
filled  with  many  miseries."  Only  of  three  lives  does  the  Church  com- 
memorate the  birthdays — of  our  Blessed  Lord,  who  was  holiness  itself ; 
of  John  the  Baptist,  who  was  sanctified  in  his  mother's  womb ;  and  of 
Mary  Immaculate,  the  Queen  of  Angels,  the  Comfortress  of  Men,  the 
Mother  of  the  Lord  of  Heaven — she  whose  birth  touches  this  September 
day,  with  a  beauty  deeper  than  the  autumn  beauty  of  ripened  cornfields 
or  fading  woods. 

To-day  is  the  birthday  of  Mary  our  Mother;  to-day  she  comes  to  us 
an  infant,  bearing,  as  it  were,  on  her  brow,  not  alone  the  glory  of  the 
autumn,  but  the  glory  of  the  destiny  with  which  God  had  crowned  her 
life.  To-day,  the  Church  says,  *'  O  ye  children !  toiling  in  the  world's 
ways,  busy  are  your  brains,  and  hearts,  and  hands ;  many  a  toil  is  yours 
and  many  a  sorrow,  but  to-day  let  business  fall  from  hand  and  thought, 
let  toil  cease,  and  work  forego  its  claim  for  one  brief  day.  In  Catholic 
hearts  there  is,  to-day,  no  place  for  sorrow,  for  to-day  is  the  birthday  of 
Mary  our  Mother." 

The  birth  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  to  what  shall  I  liken  it  ?  To  this : 
it  was  as  the  dawn  breaking  upon  the  world,  and  proclaiming  the  near 
approach  of  the  glory  of  the  sunrise.  You  have,  doubtless,  sometimes 
witnessed  the  sublime  spectacle  which  God  renews  every  morning,  when 
darkness  flees  before  the  dawn,  and  dawn  broadens  and  brightens  into 
the  flush  of  sunrise.  First,  there  is  darkness  spread  like  a  pall  upon  the 
face  of  the  dead  earth ;  a  veil  of  shadow  lies  on  tree  and  flower,  and  there 
is  no  light,  save,  perhaps,  the  glimmer  of  a  solitary  star,  set  like  a  jewel 
on  the  dusky  brow  of  night.  Then,  in  the  very  darkest  hour,  there  comes, 
shivering  through  the  darkness,  the  faintest  tinge  of  light,  playing  through 
the  gloom  like  a  feeble  pulse.  Gradually  the  hills  begin  to  form  them- 
selves upon  the  vision,  just  as  if  they  were  being  once  again  created  out 
of  nothing.  Soon,  there  is  a  belt  of  light  across  the  east ;  and  the  dawn 
seems  to  gather  up  its  scattered  glories,  and  bind  them  like  a  crown  upon 
the  topmost  ridges  of  the  eastern  hills ;  and  men  begin  to  say,  "  Now  it 
is  day,"  and  look  to  see  the  sun  mount  his  vacant  throne  in  heaven.  So 
it  was  with  the  birth  of  the  Mother  of  God. 

Darkness,  a  darkness  as  of  doom,  had  fallen  upon  the  human  heart 
and  upon  the  homes  of  men,  when  sin  first  found  its  way  into  the 
Paradise  that  God  had  made  so  beautiful,  and  had  meant  to  be  so  happy ; 


FATHER  FARRELL.  413 

and  in  that,  the  world's  darkest  hour,  when  the  brows  of  God  seemed 
black  with  anger,  and  when  the  gloom  was  lighted  only  by  the  baleful 
flashes  of  the  angel's  fiery  sword  that  guarded  the  lost  Paradise — in  that 
hour  of  darkness  and  desolation,  uprose,  starlike,  above  the  gloom,  the 
name  and  the  promise  of  Mary — "  She  shall  crush  thy  head,"  said  God 
to  Satan,  "and  thou  shalt  lie  in  wait  for  her  heel." 

And  that  sweet  name  and  the  great  promise  annexed  to  it,  was 
handed  on  through  all  the  generations.  Patriarch,  upon  his  death-bed, 
left  it  as  an  heirloom  to  patriarch  ;  kings  bound  it  like  a  glory  around 
their  dying  brows,  and  whispered  it  before  they  died  to  the  kings  who 
were  to  be.  Prophets,  standing  on  the  mountain-tops  of  vision,  saw 
from  afar  the  brightness  of  her  coming,  and  shouted  down  the  tidings  to 
the  desolate  world.  And  the  name  and  the  promise  kept  ever  broadening 
and  brightening,  and,  at  length,  the  last  of  the  prophets  saw  the  time  so 
near,  that  he  laid  down  the  harp  of  prophecy,  because  the  time  was  close 
at  hand.  It  was  then  the  full  broad  dawn  ;  and  when  Mary  was  born, 
men  well  might  say,  that  God's  day  had  broken,  and,  that  the  work  of 
the  world's  redemption  had  begun. 

Over  every  other  child  that  had  been  born,  the  inspired  words  had 
been  uttered — "  Man  born  of  woman,  lives  but  for  a  little  time,  and  is 
filled  with  many  miseries."  "  Born  of  woman,"  and,  consequently,  born 
in  the  state  of  original  sin,  finding  himself,  at  his  very  first  step  upon  the 
threshold  of  existence,  met  by  a  barrier,  which,  if  it  was  not  removed, 
would  hinder  him  from  attaining  the  end  for  which  he  was  created, 
and  which  yet  he  would  be  bound  to  attain,  under  penalty  of  ever- 
lasting misery.  "  Living  but  a  little  time,"  for,  time  is  not  to  be  meas- 
ured so  much  by  mere  years  as  by  the  work  accomplished  in  the  years 
that  have  been  given.  And,  how  little  are  men  able  to  accomplish  ! 
They  put  their  hands  to  many  things,  but  grasp  in  the  end  but  poor 
results.  Take  man's  longest  life ;  and,  if  you  estimate  it  by  the  things 
it  has  accomplished,  will  you  not  be  forced  to  say — "  The  time  in 
which  he  lived  was  short  after  all,"  and  "filled  with  many  miseries"? 
Ah !  and,  above  all,  filled  "with  the  one  great,  the  only  misery — the  misery 
of  sin. 

Now,  my  brethren,  the  life  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  exactly 
the  opposite  to  all  this;  and  it  is  because  it  was  so,  that  the  Church 
directs  us  to  commemorate  her  birthday.  She,  too,  was  born  of  woman  ; 
she  was,  even  as  we  are,  a  child  of  Adam ;  but  when  all  sinned  in  Adam, 
she — his  remote  and  greaicst  descendant — was  specially  exempted  from 
the  doom ;  and,  because  she  was  destined  to  hold  toward  the  Lord  of 
Purity  the  place  of  mother,  and,  because  it  could  not  be  that  His  mother 
should  ever  be  pointed  out  as  having  lain,  even  for  an  instant,  under  the 


414  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

doom  of  any  sin ;  for  these  reasons  Mary  was  conc«ived  immaculate — 
without  the  stain  of  original  sin. 

Again — whatever  be  the  number  of  Mary's  years,  could  any  one  ever  say 
of  her  that  she  lived  only  a  little  time?  She  lived  long  enough  to  accom- 
plish every  design,  great  and  numerous  though  they  were,  that  God  had 
formed  in  her  regard.  She  lived  long  enough  to  carry  out  to  the  ripeness 
of  its  final  perfection,  the  destiny  with  which  God  had  crowned  her — the 
highest,  the  holiest,  the  sublimest  destiny  that  God  could  possibly  bestow 
upon  any  creature  of  His  hand. 

Lastly — Mary  had  many  a  thing  to  suffer,  but  of  the  real  misery  with 
which  men  are  filled,  she  never  knew  the  bitterness.  When  God  made  her, 
He  gave  her  a  martyr's  heart — a  heart  capable  of  sorrow,  to  an  almost 
infinite  degree — and  its  capabilities,  great  as  they  were,  were  tested  to 
the  full ;  yet,  there  was  one  thing  that  makes  man's  misery,  but  which  that 
heart  never  knew ;  it  never  knew  the  slightest  stain  of  any  actual  sin. 

As  she  came  forth  from  nothing  the  daughter  of  God,  with  the  jewel 
of  original  innocence  shining  on  her  infant  brow,  so  she  lived  her  life ; 
took  her  God  and  her  Son  to  her  bosom  ;  lived  with  Him  in  that  closest 
of  all  human  relations — the  relation  of  a  mother  to  her  Son  ;  saw  Him 
die ;  and,  when  the  time  was  come,  closed  her  eyes  upon  the  world,  of 
whose  history  she  was  herself  so  large  a  part,  and  opened  them  forever 
to  the  brightness  of  the  Godhead  of  her  Son  ;  and  all  this,  without  hav- 
ing ever,  in  her  long  life,  incurred  the  faintest  stain  of  even  the  slightest 
conceivable  actual  sin. 

Such,  my  brethren,  was  the  mother  whose  birthday  we  are  celebrating. 
Is  it  any  wonder  that  of  such  a  mother,  the  birthday  can  never  be  for- 
gotten ? 

Andl,  how  are  we  to  celebrate  it  ?  First,  surely,  with  the  deepest 
devotion  of  childlike  hearts.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  remind  you 
how  large  a  part  of  the  religion  you  profess,  is  made  up  of  devotion  to 
Mary.  No  need  to  remind  you,  that  her  honor  is  intimately  bound  up 
with  the  honor  of  her  Divine  Son  ;  no  need  to  tell  you,  that  the  Catholic, 
who  has  ceased  to  be  devout  to  Mary,  has  long  since  ceased  to  be  a  good 
Catholic,  and  is  far  advanced  to  the  miserable  position  of  being  that  blot 
upon  Christianity — that  plague  of  the  Church  of  God — a  bad  Catholic. 
No ;  you  know  these  things  well ;  and,  in  the  outward  profession  of  devo- 
tion to  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  there  is  little  danger  that  any  congrega- 
tion of  Irish  Catholics  will  ever  be  found  wanting.  But,  something  more 
is  required  than  mere  outward  profession.  The  devotion,  that  will  be 
acceptable  to  Mary  and  profitable  to  yourselves,  is,  and  must  be,  devotion 
of  the  heart.  Nowhere,  in  times  past,  has  the  name  of  Mary  found  a 
more  cherished  home ;  nowhere  a  warmer  welcome,  than  in  the  hearts  of 


FATHER  FARRELL.  415 

Irish  Catholics.  It  has  been  the  special  honor  of  our  land,  an  honor 
that  glittered  on  her  forehead  when  it  was  bleeding  with  a  crown  of  many- 
thorns,  that  she  clung  with  a  tenacity  that  no  persecution  could  conquer, 
to  the  name  of  Mary,  to  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God.  And,  when 
the  lights  were  quenched  upon  her  altars,  and  quenched  in  the  heart's 
blood  of  her  people  ;  when  the  altars  themselves  were  overturned ;  when 
her  priests  were  hunted  fugitives  with  a  price  upon  their  heads,  the  people 
carried  in  hearts,  which  no  sword  could  ever  reach,  the  name  of  Mary, 
and  her  honor,  and  her  love.  And,  hence  it  was  that,  when  the  night  of 
persecution  passed ;  when  the  cloud  was  lifted  off  the  land ;  when  they 
built  again  the  overturned  altar,  and  restored  the  ruined  church,  it  was 
found  that,  owing,  under  God,  to  their  firm  grasp  and  faithful  hold  of 
devotion  to  His  blessed  Mother,  the  Irish  people  had  lost  not  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  the  Holy  Catholic  faith  for  which  their  fathers  died.  And  they 
have  left  to  us  the  legacy  of  that  devotion.  Oh  !  my  brethren,  cherish 
it  as  you  cherish  the  apple  of  your  eye.  Lift  up  your  hearts  to-day  co 
Mary,  as  she  looks  down  from  her  throne  in  heaven,  upon  this  faithful 
land  that  always  loved  her,  and  that  loves  her  now,  and  strive  to  keep  her 
birthday  as  becomes  so  great  a  festival.  And  as  children  of  a  happy 
household,  when  the  birthday  of  a  dear  mother  comes,  strive  to  present 
to  her  some  offering,  which,  however  little  in  itself,  yet  serves  well  to 
express  the  affection  that  prompted  the  giving ;  so  do  you,  every  one  of 
you,  young  and  old,  rich  and  poor,  celebrate  this  birthday  of  Mary  your 
mother,  by  making  to  her  an  offering  which  she  will  deem  worthy  of  her 
acceptance.  You  will  ask  me,  what  shall  you  offer  ?  Well,  there  is  an 
offering  which  every  one  can  make  to  Mary,  and  it  is  the  greatest  gift 
that  one  human  heart  can  offer  to  another — nay,  the  greatest  that  man 
can  offer  to  his  God — it  is  the  gift  of  your  love.  Ah !  my  brethren,  do 
not  undervalue  the  priceless  gift  of  human  affection,  which  it  is  yours  to 
give  or  to  withhold.  For,  I  say,  when  the  poorest  man  that  ever  lived 
has  given,  whether  to  man  or  to  God,  the  gift  of  his  affection,  he  has  given 
a  gift  greater  than  which  no  king  can  ever  give.  This  is  the  gift  that 
Mary  wants.  She,  the  mother,  is  singularly  like  her  divine  Son  ;  and  He 
said,  long  ago,  to  each  of  us,  "  Son,  give  me  thy  heart."  So  says  Mary 
— Give  me  thy  heart :  give  it  to  me,  that,  purified  by  the  touch  of  my 
immaculate  hands — raised  above  all  earthly  affections,  by  the  graces  with 
which  my  intercession  will  enrich  it — it  may  be  an  offering  worthy  of 
an  eternal  place  amongst  the  treasures  of  my  Son.  Jesus  asks  us  for  our 
hearts :  let  us  give  them  through  the  hands  of  her,  from  whom,  having 
been  pleased  to  accept  His  sacred  humanity,  every  gift  comes  with  a 
richer  consecration,  and  a  value  heightened  a  thousandfold — give  them 
through  the  hands  of  Mary  your  mother. 


ALL  SOULS. 

"  Have  pity  on  me,  have  pity  on  me,  at  least,  you,  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  the 

Lord  hath  touched  me." 

[HERE  is  just  one  thing  on  earth  that  is  absolutely  universal, 
and  that  one  thing  is  death.  There  is  one  sorrow  that  finds  a 
home,  at  some  time  or  other,  in  every  human  bosom,  and  that 
one  sorrow  is,  sorrow  for  the  dead.  Yes,  "  it  has  been  appointed 
unto  all  men  once  to  die,"  and,  neither  human  prudence  nor  hum.an  power 
can  stay  the  execution  of  that  dread  decree.  Our  path  through  life  may 
be  a  pleasant  one ;  it  may  be  strewn  with  every  flower  which  a  fallen 
world  has  ever  yet  preserved,  but,  at  some  place  upon  that  road,  a  grave 
is  dug  by  the  decree  of  God,  and  that  grave  shall  one  day  claim  us.  Who 
of  us,  looking  round,  can  fail  to  perceive  the  awful  universality  of  death? 
The  throne  is  not  hedged  round  so  securely,  but  that  death  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  breaks  through  and  leaves  it  vacant.  Riches  cannot  bribe  it, 
poverty  is  not  too  lowly  to  claim  its  notice,  and  so  it  comes  that  all  men 
die.  But  by  some  strange  perversity,  the  very  commonness  of  death 
makes  its  awful  significance  less  heeded.  It  is  only  when  it  touches  us 
closely ;  it  is  only  when  it  lays  its  hand  on  lives  that  had  been  closely 
bound  up  with  our  own ;  it  is  only  when  the  near  and  dear  have  been  its 
victims ;  it  is  only  then,  we  feel  the  awful  reality  of  death,  and  then  the 
common  sorrow  comes  to  us  and  makes  our  houses  desolate. 

But  when  those  we  loved  have  come  to  die ;  when  the  parting  has 
taken  place  that  gives  to  death  a  bitterness  which  else  it  would  not  have ; 
when  we  long  in  vain  for  the  well-remembered  greeting  of  the  now  cold 
hand,  and  the  music  of  a  voice  that  has  gone  silent,  can  we  bring  our- 
selves to  believe  that  all  is  over  between  our  dead  and  us.  Can  we  bury 
our  dead  out  of  our  sight ;  stand  sorrow-stricken  beside  the  lifeless  form : 
wait  until  the  last  sod  has  been  heaped  upon  the  grave ;  shed  one,  the 
saddest  tear  of  final  parting ;  and  then,  go  back  to  mix  again  with  the 
busy  world,  and  believe  that  we  have  no  more  to  do  with  the  departed  ? 
Oh !  surely  not.  There  is  something  in  our  hearts  that  protests 
against  such  a  conclusion.  It  would  be  doing  violence  to  the  very  nature 
that  God  has  given  us,  to  believe  that  human  friendship  and  human  love 
reach  only  to  the  grave,  and  cannot  pass  beyond  its  shadow ;  that  they 
(416) 


FATHER  FARRELL.  417 

are  flowers  so  frail  that  death's  cold  touch  can  wither  them  forever ;  to 
believe  that  even  the  mysterious  power  of  death  can  break  the  mystic 
bond  that,  in  the  first  arid  greatest  of  the  commandments,  binds  the  love 
of  our  fellow-creatures  with  the  love  of  God  Himself.  Our  very  instincts 
— and  after  all  these  are  but  dim  foreshadowings  of  mighty  truths — our 
very  instincts  compel  us  to  look  beyond  the  grave,  to  see  through  all  its 
shadows  the  traces  of  another  world,  and  to  brighten,  by  the  hope  of  a 
future  meeting,  the  gloom  which  the  death  of  those  we  loved  had  flung 
upon  our  hearts.  Nor  could  we  feel  even  this  to  be  enough.  It  would 
be  but  poor  consolation,  after  all,  to  live  through  the  weary  years  upon  a 
hope,  and  to  feel  that  all  the  while,  until  the  future  actually  came,  our 
connection  with  our  departed  brethren  had  absolutely  ceased  ;  to  feel  that^ 
though  love  and  friendship  might  bloom  again  in  a  brighter  land,  yet, 
that  for  the  present  they  were  dead,  and  could  make  no  sign. 

The  heart  would  look  for  more  than  this.  Its  very  affection  would 
prompt  it  to  seek  a  means  to  bind  together  the  world  in  which  it  still  re- 
mains, and  that  mysterious  world  beyond  the  grave,  whither  the  dead  have 
gone,  and  to  which  the  living  are  hourly  speeding. 

It  seeks  to  be  assured  that  love  and  friendship  can  reach  beyond  the 
grave,  and  do  good  service ;  that  kindly  offices  of  charity  need  not  cease 
becafise  one  soul  still  remains  in  the  flesh,  and  the  other  has  departed  to 
the  unseen  land.  And  lo !  faith  has  made  these  wishes  and  these  hopes 
a  living  reality.  The  loftiest  intellect  could  only  conjecture,  the  fondest 
heart  could  only  wish,  that  these  things  were  so,  but  the  Church  of  God, 
drawing  forth  from  the  treasury  of  faith  the  sublime  dogma  of  the  Com- 
munion of  Saints,  has  revealed  these  wonders  to  the  simplest  intellects. 

She  tells  us  that  there  are  two  worlds — the  world  of  matter  and  of 
sense — and  the  world  of  spirits.  The  world  around  us  which  we  see,  and 
feel,  and  hear ;  and  the  world  to  come,  which  can  be  reached  only  by  the 
gate  of  death.  She  tells  us,  too,  that  as  in  this  our  world  there  are  differ- 
ent states,  so  there  are  different  states  in  that  other  world  as  well.  She 
tells  us  that  the  state  of  any  individual  in  the  world  to  come,  depends 
precisely  on  the  condition  of  his  soul  when  death  has  summoned  him 
before  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  If  the  soul,  at  death,  be  in  the  state  of 
mortal  sin,  it  is  lost  forever.  Of  such  as  these  we  need  not  speak.  They 
have  fought  and  lost,  and  their  loss  is  irreparable  and  eternal.  They 
have  passed  forever  from  the  Communion  of  Saints.  For  them,  forever- 
more,  no  hope  may  spring  in  any  heart;  for  them,  forevermore,  no 
prayer  may  go  before  the  throne  of  God. 

But  to  those  who  die  in  the  state  of  grace  salvation  is  secure.  Their 
fight  has  ended  in  victory,  and  for  them  is  an  immortal  crown.  But 
knowing,  as  we  know,  that  into  the  unveiled  presence  of  God  nothing  that 


418  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

is  defiled  can  enter,  knowing  that  such  is  the  Infinite  Holiness  of  God, 

that  the  slightest  stain  excludes  us  from  the  enjoyment  of  the  beatific 
vision,  and  knowing  moreover  that  few  can  hope  to  pass  without  defile- 
ment from  a  world  where  the  'Holy  Ghost  has  declared  that  even 
the  "just  man  falls  seven  times,"  we  are  naturally  led  to  ask  what  is 
the  lot  of  such  as  these  in  the  world  of  spirits.  Again,  we  know  that 
though  mortal  sin  may  be  remitted,  as  to  its  guilt  and  as  to  the  eternal 
punishment  it  deserved,  yet  there  remains  a  temporal  penalty,  and  we 
can  easily  conceive  a  man  passing  from  this  life  before  complete  penance 
has  blotted  out  the  debt.  Here,  then,  are  two  classes :  what  shall  be  the 
lot  of  those  when  death  has  claimed  them  ;  shall  they  go  into  the  glorious 
presence  of  their  God  ?  Surely  not ;  they  are  not  yet  purified.  Shall  they, 
then,  go  into  everlasting  fire?  No ;  God  is  faithful  to  His  word,  and  only 
to  deadly  sin  has  He  attached  the  awful  punishment  of  hell.  Where, 
then,  shall  their  lot  be  cast  ?  The  Church,  borne  out  by  reason  as  well 
as  by  revelation,  the  Church  answers  at  once,  they  shall  go  into  a  place 
of  temporary  punishment,  where  they  may  have  their  venial  sins 
wiped  out,  and  may  pay  the  debt  which  they  owe  to  the  Infinite  Justice 
of  God. 

Such,  briefly,  is  the  doctrine  of  purgatory ;  a  doctrine  full  of  teaching 
upon  God's  justice  and  God's  mercy;  a  doctrine  so  consoling  in  itself*,  and 
so  much  in  accordance  with  what  the  nature  of  the  case  might  have  been 
expected  to  demand,  that  when  those  who  deny  it,  refuse  to  acknowledge 
the  authority  of  the  inspired  word  that  declares  that  "  it  is  a  holy  and 
wholesome  thought  to  pray  for  the  dead  that  they  may  be  loosed  from 
their  sins,"  I  can  only  wonder  at  their  blindness — not  judging  individuals 
amongst  them — but  leaving  them  to  their  conscience  and  their  God. 

There,  in  that  dark  prison,  lie  the  Holy  Souls,  looking  with  patient 
eyes  to  heaven,  awaiting  the  hour  of  their  release,  enduring  a  punishment 
so  keen  that  some  saints  have  not  hesitated  to  assert  that  the  pains  of 
Purgatory  differ  from  the  pains  of  hell  only  in  this — that  they  are  not 
eternal.  But  yet  they  have  not  ceased  to  be  a  part  of  the  Church.  They 
have  passed  from  the  Church  Militant  upon  earth — one  day  they  shall 
pass  to  the  Church  Triumphant  in  the  glory  of  heaven.  For  the  present 
they  are  members  of  the  Church  Suffering  in  Purgatory.  And  precisely 
because  they  are  still  members  of  the  Church,  we — bound  to  them  by  the 
mystic  bond  of  the  Communion  of  Saints — can  assist  them  by  our 
prayers,  no  less  than  we  can  assist  each  other ;  nay,  even  more,  because 
the  eflScacy  of  prayer  for  one  who  is  still  upon  earth  may  be  hindered  of 
its  effect  by  the  perversity  of  that  will  of  his  which  God  has  left  free  for 
good  or  evil;  but  in  Purgatory,  that  land  of  calm  and  patient  suffering, 
the  Holy  Souls,  confirmed  in  the  possession  of  sanctifying  grace,  offer 


FATHER  FARRELL,  419 

absolutely  no  obstacle  to  the  efficacy  of  any  intercession  that  is  made  in 
their  behalf. 

On  their  bed  of  fire  they  can  do  no  more  than  suffer.  They  are 
powerless  for  themselves.  The  suffering  they  endure  is  quite  beyond  any 
conception  we  can  have  of  suffering.  We  strive,  and  strive  in  vain,  to 
make  unto  ourselves  the  faintest  image  of  their  torment.  Go  down  to 
the  profoundest  depth  of  any  suffering  you  have  ever  felt ;  the  suffering 
of  the  Holy  Souls  is  deeper  still.  Sense  and  intellect  are  alike  tormented. 
The  fire  is  around  them  and  about  them :  it  pierces  through  the  quiver- 
ing soul  till  life  itself  is  agony.  Their  intense  longing  for  the  sight  of 
God  brings  with  it  an  anguish  so  keen  of  hope  deferred,  that  every  mo- 
ment seems  one  long  age  of  agony  till  the  blessed  time  be  come.  They 
suffer,  and  they  make  no  sign.  Cries  were  useless  there ;  no  tears  can 
quench  the  fire  that  torments  them ;  no  cry  could  pierce  the  barrier  that 
sunders  the  living  from  the  dead,  nor  strike  upon  the  heedless  ears  of 
men.  Their  friends  on  earth  could  help  them  if  they  only  would,  but 
their  friends  on  earth  are  busy  with  many  things.  Ah !  those  on  earth 
who  loved  them,  and  whom  they  loved,  have  ceased  to  think  of  them — 
they  have  no  device  to  stir  their  memory.  The  sympathy  that  was  once 
so  strong  between  the  two  has  failed,  and  faded,  and  died  out,  and  the 
suffering  souls  can  make  no  personal  appeal  that  might  awaken  it  again. 
They  plead  by  suffering,  but  too  often  is  their  pleading  vain,  because 
their  suffering  is  forgotten  ;  and  the  friends  on  earth  form  many  a  scheme 
of  business  and  pleasure,  nor  heed  the  moan  of  anguish  that,  through 
weary  day  and  lonely  night,  goes  up  from  the  prison  of  Purgatory. 
"  Have  pity  on  us,"  etc. 

How  have  we  responded  to  their  cry  for  help?  Our  sorrow  for  the 
dead  is  keen,  but,  oh  !  it  is  not  lasting.  Memory's  magic  pictures  grow 
fainter  every  day.  There  may  have  been  a  time  when  we  knelt  distracted 
by  the  death-bed,  and  deemed  that  because  of  the  bereavement  we  were 
about  to  suffer  earth  could  never  be  bright  for  us  again.  And  then,  in 
the  first  burst  of  sorrow,  memory  was  so  keen  that  its  keenness  was  a 
pain.  We  seemed  for  some  time  to  see  the  face  of  the  dead,  and  to  hear 
the  voice  that  was  gone  silent.  But  it  does  not  last.  We  go  out  into 
the  world,  and  the  world  supplies  us  with  new  thoughts,  and  the  dead 
friend  is  remembered  but  faintly — soon  entirely  forgotten. 

Soon  the  very  name  of  the  dead  is  not  mentioned,  save  at  some  very 
rare  interval,  and  then  is  mentioned  with  but  a  scanty  prayer  not  much 
deeper  than  the  careless  lips.  Oh,  shame !  that  it  should  be  so.  Is  this 
our  boasted  friendship ;  is  this  our  boasted  love ;  is  this  the  affection  that 
was  to  survive  the  grave ;  is  this  the  memory  that  was  to  be  eternal  ? 
•Our  friend  lies  prostrate  in  the  intensest  agony :  the  means  of  help  are  at 


420  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

our  hands,  and  yet  we  are  too  cold,  too  careless,  too  forgetful  to  apply 
them. 

God  has  left  them  utterly  to  themselves ;  He  has,  as  it  were,  put  it 
out  of  His  own  power  to  assist  them  personally.  He  seems  to  stand 
aloof,  looking  silently  down  upon  their  keen  but  uncomplaining  agony. 
He  has,  to  be  sure,  with  that  mercy  that  knows  no  limit — He  has,  even 
while  seeming  to  exact  the  uttermost  farthing — He  has  provided  abundant, 
nay,  superabundant  means  for  their  relief.  But  He  Himself  will  not  apply 
them.  He  has  left  that  to  us — to  us  who  were  their  friends  and  fellows; 
who  loved  them,  and  whom  they  loved,  who  stood  by  tearful  and  saw 
them  die,  who  knelt  above  their  fresh  graves,  and  almost  swore  by  the 
bitterness  of  our  sorrow  that  we  never  would  forget  them — to  us  it  is  that 
God  has  left  the  application  of  the  infallible  means  which  He  has  pro- 
vided for  their  relief.  And,  surely,  one  would  have  thought  that  the 
agony  would  be  short  which  kind  hearts  had  power  to  shorten,  and  the 
suffering  light  when  kind  hands  held  the  remedy.  But,  oh!  we  forget 
our  dead.  Engrossed  by  our  own  pursuits,  we  are  unmindful  of  the 
suffering  that  is  unseen.  The  world's  voices  are  in  our  ears,  the  world's 
distractions  in  our  hearts,  and  we  take  no  notice  of  the  ceaseless  cry  of 
anguish  that  comes  upward  from  the  bed  of  fire.    "  Have  pity  on  us,"  etc. 

At  the  time  when  our  Blessed  Lord  walked  upon  the  earth,  there  was 
in  Jerusalem  a  certain  pool  where  the  sick  and  those  afflicted  with  bodily 
diseases  were  wont  to  congregate.  At  certain  times  an  angel  of  the 
Lord  came  down  and  stirred  the  waters,  and  the  sick  man  who  went  first 
into  the  pool  after  the  visit  of  the  angel,  was  healed  of  his  infirmity. 
When  Jesus  came  there  He  found  a  man  so  infirm  that  he  could  not,  in 
the  least  degree,  assist  himself,  and  he  had  been  waiting  day  after  day, 
for  eight-and-thirty  years,  while  others  who  were  stronger  than  he,  or 
who  had  friends  to  help  them,  went  down  before  him  and  were  healed. 
Our  Lord  asked  him  why  he  had  not  availed  himself  of  the  blessing 
which  God  at  times  had  given  to  the  waters,  and  he  answered  in  words 
that  are  full  of  deepest  and  most  mournful  pathos  :  "  Lord,  I  have  no 
man,  who,  when  the  water  has  been  stirred,  will  cast  me  into  the  pool." 
Oh !  my  brethren,  in  those  few  words  what  a  story  is  compressed  of  the 
tedious  passing  of  weary  years.  He  had  come  there  a  youth,  with  hope  in 
his  heart  that  he  would  soon  be  cured  of  his  infirmity ;  and  many  a  long 
year  seemed  to  spread  before  him,  in  which  he  might  enjoy  his  recovered 
health.  But  the  years  passed  by,  and  those  who  were  boys  along  with 
him  grew  to  be  men,  and  many  a  change  had  passed  upon  the  faces  that 
he  knew ;  many  a  sunrise  did  he  see  in  hope,  and  many  an  evening  closed 
in  the  disappointment  of  the  hope  deferred  that  maketh  sick  the  heart ; 
and  his  hopes  were  dying  out,  and  his  hair  was  growing  gray,  when,  after 


FATHER   FARRELL.  421 

nearly  forty  years,  Jesus  came  and  cured  him.  Oh !  my  brethren,  what 
a  sorrowful  story  !  Eight-and-thirty  years  of  waiting,  the  certain  remedy 
before  his  eyes,  and  none  to  help  him  to  avail  himself  of  its  efficacy. 
Friends  he  may  have  had — one  friend  he  surely  had,  when  his  mother 
held  him  in  her  arms — but  his  mother  was  dead,  and  time  and  the  chance 
and  change  of  life  had  dispersed  his  early  friends,  or,  after  the  manner  of 
the  world,  in  the  day  of  his  distress  they  had  forsaken  him.  In  that 
weary  march  of  lonely  years,  what  want  of  human  feeling  that  man  had 
witnessed !  what  cool  contempt,  what  silent  carelessness !  and  we  are 
tempted  to  exclaim  against  a  city  whose  annals  are  disgraced  by  a  story 
such  as  this.  But  pause,  before  one  bitter  thought  forms  itself  in  your 
minds,  before  one  word  of  condemnation  rushes  to  your  indignant  lips. 
Stay  a  little. 

There  is  a  certain  place  in  the  Church  of  God,  a  place  which  you 
have  not  seen  with  the  eye  of  flesh,  but  which  faith  teaches  you  that  it 
exists  as  really  as  the  places  you  have  walked  in,  and  that  you  know  with 
the  familiar  knowledge  of  every-day  experience.  It  is  a  land  over  which 
hangs  a  cloud  of  silent  sorrow,  of  uncomplaining  agony,  that  is  voiceless 
in  the  intensity  of  its  resignation.  And  in  that  silent  land  of  pain  lies 
many  a  friend  of  yours  whom  your  heart  cannot  forget — friends  whom 
you  knew  once — whose  faces,  whose  smiles,  whose  voices,  were  familiar  to 
you  in  days  gone  by,  who  were  members,  it  may  be,  of  the  same  house- 
hold, who  knelt  with  you  at  the  same  altar — who  worked,  and  prayed, 
and  smiled,  and  were  bound  to  you  by  every  tie  which  the  kindly  chari- 
ties of  nature  and  of  grace  can  forge.  They  died  ;  and  they  are  in  Pur- 
gatory. Stricken  are  they  by  no  mere  earthly  malady,  but  by  an  agony 
for  which  earth  has  no  image  nor  any  name.  Consumed  are  they  by  no 
mere  earthly  fever,  but  by  the  fever  of  a  fire  that  searches  their  very 
soul.  And  you  pass  by — you,  their  friends — and  you  have  at  your  dis- 
posal the  healing  flood  of  the  precious  blood  of  Jesus.  You  pass  by — 
heedless,  or  forgetful,  or  indifferent,  it  matters  little  which — you  pass  by 
and  give  no  help.  You  leave  the  sufferers  there,  looking  up  with  pain- 
stricken,  wistful  eyes  to  the  heaven  above,  and  saying:  "O  God,  we  have 
no  friend  who,  when  the  healing  blood  of  Thy  EMvine  Son  is  ready  in  the 
Holy  Mass  to  extinguish  the  flames  of  our  torment,  will  use  it  for  our 
relief."  My  brethren,  condemn  if  you  will,  in  what  sharp  terms  indigna- 
tion may  suggest,  the  heartlessness  of  the  citizens  of  Jerusalem,  but  do 
not  omit  to  compare  it  with  your  own,  when,  either  through  carelessness 
or  forgetfulness,  you  neglect  to  do  your  part,  the  part  of  friendship,  the 
part  of  charity,  to  assist  the  suffering  souls  in  Purgatory. 

There  is  no  devotion  more  acceptable  to  God,  or  more  conducive  to 
His  glory,  than  the  devotion  to  the  Holy  Souls.     It  rests  on  faith,  it 


422  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

works  through  hope — it  is  the  fragrant  flower,  the  perfect  fruit  of  charity. 
There  is  no  other  devotion  better  adapted  to  secure  your  own  salvation^ 
Release  one  soul  from  Purgatory,  and  what  do  you  do  ?  You  place  in 
the  living  Presence  of  God  in  heaven  a  saint,  whose  gratitude  shall  never 
weary,  to  supplicate  in  your  behalf,  till  you  yourself  sit  by  him  at  the 
feet  of  God.  But  that  is  not  all.  The  very  means  you  must  adopt  to 
help  the  souls  in  Purgatory  tend,  of  their  own  nature,  directly  to  your 
own  salvation.  You  pray  for  them — you,  too,  gain  merit  from  your 
prayer ;  you  gain  an  indulgence  for  them — to  do  so  you  must  be  in  the 
state  of  grace  yourself,  that  is,  in  the  way  of  salvation,  your  foot  upon 
the  very  threshold  of  heaven ;  you  procure  a  Mass  to  be  said  for  them — 
you  have,  yourself,  a  share  in  the  superabundant  fruit  of  the  Holy  Sacri- 
fice. Our  dear  mother,  Mary,  is,  in  a  special  manner.  Queen  of  this 
realm  of  suffering.  Do  you  not  think  she  will  help  those  most,  and  love 
them  most  dearly,  who  aid  her  suffering  clients  ?  So  it  is  ;  in  the  loving 
economy  of  God's  Providence,  every  step  we  take  to  assist  the  Holy 
Souls  is  a  step  further  on  our  own  way  to  heaven. 

And  oh  !  my  brethren,  on  a  night  like  this — on  the  eve  of  the  great 
festival  which  the  Church  has  instituted  for  their  relief — it  needs  no 
words  of  mine,  nor  any  words  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  suffering  souls. 
To-night  they  plead  themselves. 

There  is  not  one  amongst  you  whose  home  death  has  not  sometime 
visited.  Touched  into  reflection  by  an  anniversary  like  this,  you  will  look 
around  and  see,  it  may  be,  a  vacant  chair  that  was  not  vacant  once.  .You 
miss  an  old  familiar  face,  and  have  memories  of  a  voice  that  mingles  no 
more  with  the  other  voices  of  your  home. 

Can  we  not  picture  the  departed,  looking  up  to-night  from  their  bed 
of  anguish,  with  a  gleam  of  hope  in  their  wistful,  sorrow-clouded  eyes? 
Well  may  they  have  hope ;  for,  surely  there  is  no  one  here  so  heartless 
as  to  forget  them.  The  memory  of  them  will  come  back  upon  their 
friends  to-night,  and  the  echo  of  their  half-forgotten  voices  will  wake  the 
hearts  that  loved  them  to  sympathy  for  their  suffering,  and  to  an  effort 
for  their  release.  And  surely — an  earnest  prayer,  an  indulgence,  an  ap- 
plication of  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  in  their  behalf,  will  prove 
that  they  have  not  been  forgotten,  and  that  friendship,  blessed  by  faith, 
and  made  strong  by  charity,  can  reach  beyond  the  grave.  And  while 
your  souls  are  filled  with  reflections  such  as  these,  I  give  place  to  them  ; 
and  in  the  silence  of  your  hearts  it  is  no  longer  I,  but  they  themselves 
that  shall  cry  out,  and  shall  not  cry  in  vain  :  "  Have  pity  on  me,  have 
pity  on  me,  you,  at  least,  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath 
touched  me." 


LESSONS  OF  THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 

(first  SUNDAY  OF  ADVENT.) 

HERE  come  to  all  of  us,  from  time  to  time,  special  seasons 
for  reflection.  There  are  certain  breathing  spaces  in  the  race, 
the  end  of  which  will  bring  the  rest  of  death.  There  are 
times  when  we  pause,  as  it  were,  upon  the  road  of  life,  and 
look  back,  half  in  sorrow  and  half,  perhaps,  in  thankfulness,  on  the  way 
we  have  been  travelling — thinking,  sadly  enough,  of  baffled  aims  and 
blighted  hopes ;  of  the  good  we  might  have  done,  but  did  not ;  of  the 
evil  we  need  not  have  done,  but  which  we  did — looking  back  on  the  fail- 
ures, and  the  falls,  and  the  disappointments,  that  make  the  landmarks  of 
most  retrospects  of  life ;  and  looking  back,  too,  on  the  spots  which 
God's  grace  and  our  co-operation  have  made  the  green  spots  and  pleasant 
places  of  our  memory;  and  doing  all  this  to  the  end  that,  to  use  the 
language  of  Scripture,  we  may  rise  like  giants  to  pursue  our  way  along 
the  path  that  loses  itself,  as  we  look,  in  the  clouds  that  hang  about 
our  future — that  path  of  which  we  know  little  more  than  this,  that  at 
some  hidden  point  upon  it  lies  an  open  grave,  where  we  and  our  hopes 
and  dreams,  our  hands  that  toiled,  our  brains  that  planned,  our  hearts 
that  throbbed  such  various  music,  shall  be  hidden  away  forever. 

Such  times  are  good,  and  such  a  time  has  come  to  us  to-day ;  for 
to-day  the  Church  begins  another  of  her  years.  The  First  Sunday  of 
Advent  is  the  first  day  of  the  new  ecclesiastical  year,  and  is,  consequently, 
a  day  to  look  back  on  the  years  that  lie  behind  us,  and  forward  to  the 
years  that  may  be  given  to  us  yet.  A  time  to  ascertain  our  position  in 
God's  world,  to  realize  the  end  which  Infinite  Wisdom  has  given  us  to 
attain,  and  the  means  which  Infinite  Goodness  has  placed  at  our  dis- 
posal for  its  attainment ;  a  time  to  remedy  the  failures  of  the  past,  to  set 
ourselves  right  in  the  present,  and  so  prepare  to  meet,  not  alone  that 
future  over  which  death  stands  watchman,  and  whose  ending  is  the  grave, 
but  also  that  greater,  wider,  and  more  awful  future,  the  end  of  which 
shall  never  be. 

And  how  are  we  to  do  all  this?  From  what  point  shall  we  start, 
from  what  principle  begin  to  form  a  complete  system  of  the  philosophy 
of  Christian  life  ?     To  assign  such  a  starting-point,  to  determine  such  a 

(423) 


424  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

principle,  is  a  task  from  which  the  boldest  well  might  shrink.  The  high- 
est intellect  might  stand  before  the  problem  abashed  even  as  the  lowest. 
Human  learning,  and  human  genius,  and  human  taste,  the  wealth  of 
human  intellect  and  the  poetry  of  human  feeling,  each — nay,  all  united — 
might  fail  to  strike  the  keynote  from  which  would  spring  the  wondrous 
harmony  of  Christian  life — might  fail  to  set  before  us  one  simple  subject 
which  would  comprise  all  necessary  teaching  in  its  single  self ;  a  subject 
which  would  be,  at  once,  the  beginning,  and  the  middle,  and  the  end,  of 
that  one  great  wisdom  which  every  one,  at  the  peril  of  his  soul,  is  bound 
to  master.  But  what  all  human  resources  might  fail  to  do,  and  might 
acknowledge  without  shame  its  failure,  the  Church  has  done  with  uner- 
ring accuracy,  by  placing  before  us  to-day  the  picture  of  the  Last  Judg- 
ment.    Let  us  consider  it  a  little. 

The  time  will  come  when  the  world  shall  have  fallen  on  its  last  days, 
and  when  the  shadow  of  approaching  doom  shall  fall  deep  and  dark  upon 
nature  and  on  the  human  heart.  A  time  will  come  when  the  system  of 
the  thousand  worlds  which  wheeled  through  space  at  the  first  bidding  of 
the  Almighty,  shall  begin  to  give  token  that  their  purpose  is  nearing  its 
completion.  There  shall  be  signs  in  the  stars,  and  the  very  light  of 
heaven  shall  grow  dim.  Rumor  shall  follow  rumor,  as  shadow  follows 
shadow,  when  clouds  are  blown  across  the  troubled  sky,  raising  vague 
forms  of  some  infinite  terror  in  the  hearts  of  the  world's  latest  genera- 
tion. The  things  that  have  been  used  by  God  as  extraordinary  chastise- 
ments of  His  people  shall  become  so  rife  as  to  lose  their  strangeness, 
though  they  shall  not  lose  their  sting,  and  the  very  voices  of  the  wind, 
and  the  stormy  music  of  the  sea,  shall  begin  to  speak  of  some  awful  doom 
that  is  at  hand.  We  cannot  picture  adequately  the  awfulness  of  that 
Last  Advent  that  men  shall  keep,  when  they  shall  await  the  coming  of 
Him  who  came  once  with  tenderest  mercy,  but  whose  second  coming 
shall  be  one  of  sternest  justice.  The  nearest  approach  to  the  sublimity 
of  the  subject  seems  to  me  to  be  found  in  the  words  of  the  Evangelist, 
who,  after  enumerating  some  of  the  signs  that  shall  precede  the  Judg- 
ment, sums  up  the  effect  of  them  in  the  startling  words :  "  Men  shall 
wither  away  with  fear." 

And  then  shall  come  the  end.  The  time  will  come  when  the  last  man 
shall  die,  and  his  body  lie  unburied  on  the  earth  which  shall  afford  a  grave 
no  more.  A  silence  deep,  but  far  more  awful,  than  that  which  preceded 
the  creation,  shall  fall  on  the  dead  world.  And  that  silence  how  shall  it 
be  broken  ?  The  angel's  trump  of  doom  shall  send  its  wailing  note  through 
all  the  silent  spaces  of  the  world.  The  graves  shall  yawn  wide  open,  the 
sea  give  up  its  dead,  and  the  countless  hosts  that  have  peopled  all  the 
centuries  shall  be  marshalled  together  in  the  valley  of  judgment. 


FATHER  FARRELL.  425 

And  we  shall  be  there  too.  As  surely  as  we  stand  to-day  before  the 
hidden  presence  of  Jesus  in  the  tabernacle,  as  surely  as  the  heavens 
bend  above  us,  and  the  earth  sustains  our  feet,  as  surely  as  God  liveth, 
and  hath  said  it,  so  surely  shall  we,  one  day,  fall  into  our  place  at  the 
bidding  of  the  angel's  trumpet.  And  what  shall  be  our  thoughts  in 
that  awful  hour? 

The  bitterest  hours  that'  most  men  know  on  earth  are  those  hours 
when  their  sin  has  found  them  out,  and  when  the  passions  they  have  in- 
dulged turn  to  a  nest  of  scorpions  in  their  bosoms.  When  the  still  small 
voice  of  conscience  pronounces  its  unchangeable  sentence,  when  the  mists 
that  passion  threw  around  crime  are  rent  asunder  and  the  sinner,  in  his 
remorse,  becomes  loathsome  even  to  himself.  But  what  is  even  this  to 
the  bitterness  of  the  awakening  conscience  that  shall  take  place  before 
the  judgment-seat  of  Christ  ?  The  light  of  God  Himself  shall  pierce  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  sinner's  heart.  "  He  shall  search  Jerusalem  with 
lamps."  Concealment  shall  be  possible  no  more.  The  smile  upon  the 
lip  shall  no  longer  hide  the  treachery  of  the  heart,  and  the  holiness  of 
exterior  that  came  not  from  virtue,  but  from  hypocrisy,  shall  be  a  gar- 
ment no  longer  of  honor,  but  of  ignominy  and  shame. 

Then  shall  the  judgments  of  the  world  be  signally  reversed.  Then 
shall  be  discovered  how  delusive  were  the  standards  by  which  it  measured 
men  and  things.  Then  the  worldly  prudence  whose  basis  was  selfishness, 
and  whose  highest  ideal  was  self-interest,  shall  appear  paltry  beside  that 
sublime  wisdom,  which  was  so  far  above  mere  worldly  natures  that 
worldly  nature  sneered  at  it  and  called  it  folly.  "  We  fools  esteemed 
their  lives  folly."  Then  shall  men  and  deeds  that  make  a  stir  in  history 
be  found  both  in  true  sublimity  and  true  poetry  infinitely  inferior  to  the 
record  of  some  life  whose  only  earthly  record  was  the  hie  jacet  of  the 
churchyard.  Then  shall  be  found  that  things  which  men  had  long  agreed 
to  call  successes,  had  been  signal  failures,  and  that  poor  souls  who  were 
thought  to  have  failed,  have  succeeded  to  an  extent  which  it  hath  never 
entered  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  For,  in  truth,  success  is  a  different 
thing  when  it  is  estimated  by  man,  and  when  it  is  estimated  by  God. 

And  what  shall  be  the  subject  of  the  judgment  ?  All  the  thoughts 
that  men  have  thought  from  the  first  feeling  of  rapture  that  rose  in  the 
heart  of  the  world's  first  father  when  he  looked  forth  on  the  fresh  beauty 
of  the  newly-made  world,  down  to  the  latest  thought  of  him  who  shall 
be  last  to  die ;  all  the  words  that  shall  have  ever  fallen  from  human  lips, 
in  blessing  or  in  cursing,  in  tenderness  or  in  anger,  in  seriousness  or  in  • 
sport ;  all  the  actions  that  find  a  place  in  the  written  or  unwritten  annals 
of  the  world  that  shall  be  no  more ; — all  shall  be  made  manifest  before  the 
countless  brotherhood  of  the  human  race. 


426  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

The  sinner,  in  this  life,  may  do  his  sin  in  secret.  He  may  seek  the 
lonely  places  of  the  world,  and  may  wrap  himself  around  with  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night.  He  worships  his  passion  in  no  open  temple  with 
lights  and  incense.  Poor  fool,  he  deems  himself  too  wise  for  that.  He 
worships  his  sin  in  the  depths  of  his  own  heart  which  no  human  eye  can 
penetrate,  and  he,  whose  every  additional  breath  of  life  is  a  proof,  did 
men  but  know,  of  the  infinite  forbearance  of  the  outraged  majesty  of 
heaven,  may  live  his  life,  and  sink  into  his  grave  without  any  one  ever 
knowing  what  a  hypocrite  he  was.  Poor  fool,  he  never  cast  a  thought 
upon  the  inevitable  hour,  in  which  his  sins  must  be  made  manifest  to  the 
assembled  universe. 

The  sentence  shall  be  uttered,  and  the  elect  and  the  reprobate  shall 
go  their  different  ways  to  meet  no  more,  while  heaven  delights,  while 
hell  torments,  while  God  Himself  reigns  on.  What  a  parting  shall  be 
there !  There  are  partings  even  on  this  side  of  the  grave  that  are  hard 
to  bear.  Bitter  is  the  hour  when  lifelong  friends  must  part  to  see  each 
other  no  more  save  in  dreams  that  memory  can  make  from  the  dead  past. 
Bitter  is  the  hour  when  time  and  circumstances,  and  what  men  call  fate, 
send  forth  on  widely  diverging  paths  those  who  loved  each  other  so  well 
that,  each  losing  each  seems  to  lose  some  dearer  portion  of  his  very  self. 
But  what  are  even  partings  such  as  these,  to  the  partings  that  shall  take 
place  when  the  sentence  of  the  judgment  shall  have  been  pronounced  ? 
The  wicked  shall  go  into  their  place  of  torment,  never  more  to  see  the 
faces  that  they  loved — never  more  to  hear  the  voices  that  made  music  on 
their  ears,  never  more  to  smile  beneath  the  smiles  that  were  the  sunshine 
of  their  lives — never  more  to  feel  the  kindly  charities  of  friendship  or  of 
love.  They  shall  have  lost  all  that  is  good,  and  shall  be  in  everlasting 
possession  of  all  that  is  evil ;  and  they  shall  know  that  never,  as  long  as 
God  shall  be  God,  shall  their  torments  end. 

They  shall  begin  their  everlasting  punishment  with  the  awful  picture 
of  the  last  judgment  graven  upon  their  souls.  We,  with  the  picture  of 
the  same  judgment,  commence  our  new  ecclesiastical  year.  But  how 
wide  is  the  difference?  For  them  the  judgment  shall  be  past  and  shall  be 
irrevocable  ;  for  us,  it  has  yet  to  be.  The  bitter  thoughts  it  shall  have 
caused  in  them  shall  know  no  ending  to  their  bitterness  ;  but  to  us  the 
picture  can  afford  a  lesson  which,  if  we  profit  by  it,  can  materially  affect 
our  personal  share  in  the  world's  final  judgment. 

What,  then,  are  the  lessons  which  we  should  draw  from  the  subject 
which  the  Church  sets  before  us  to-day  ?  First — we  should  carry  out  our 
manifest  intention  of  making  the  judgment  to  come  the  standard  of  our 
lives.  We  should  try  to  look  at  things  around  us  in  the  light  of  that 
solemn  truth,  form  our  views  according  to  its  teaching,  and  arrange  our 


FATHER  FARRELL.  427 

lives  by  the  lessons  it  affords.  If  we  resolve  to  do  so,  we  will  find  in  the 
last  judgment  a  twofold  lesson  which  will  embrace  all  the  necessities  of 
our  lives— a  lesson  on  our  conduct,  as  it  regards  ourselves,  and  secondly 
as  it  regards  our  neighbor. 

First,  then,  as  regards  ourselves.  The  first  thing  that  must  strike  us, 
if  we  look  at  the  world  around  us  by  the  light  of  the  last  judgment,  is 
this,  that  as  we  are  to  be  judged  not  by  our  high  or  low  position  in  life, 
but  simply  by  the  work  we  shall  have  done,  it  makes  very  little  matter  to 
us  what  position  in  life  we  hold,  provided  we  do  the  duties  of  it  well. 
The  world  makes  vast  differences,  where  none  exist,  or  where,  if  they  ex- 
ist at  all,  they  are  far  other  than  the  world  supposes.  According  as  thou 
didst  thy  work,  so,  not  otherwise,  shalt  thou  be  judged.  Life  is  a  prep- 
aration for  the  judgment  to  come ;  if,  then,  I  would  prepare  for  that 
judgment,  I  must  attend  just  to  one  thing,  the  manner  in  which  I  per- 
form my  daily  duties. 

What  a  simple  rule  this  is — and,  like  most  simple  things,  how  effective 
it  is  against  all  specious  delusions.  There  are,  in  the  world  of  Christians, 
and  I  speak  now  of  those  who  think  seriously  about  the  business  of  sal- 
vation, two  classes  who  are  fixed  at  the  opposite  poles  of  a  great  delu- 
sion. One  class  I  shall  call  the  slaves  of  the  past :  the  other  consists  of 
the  dreamers  about  the  future.  The  former  seat  themselves,  as  it  were, 
with  folded  hands,  amid  the  ruins  of  their  past  lives,  and  think  that  be- 
cause their  own  sins  or  the  sins  of  others  have  made  their  past  what  they 
call  a  failure,  therefore  they  have  no  more  present  work  in  the  world. 
They  have  a  lurking  idea,  which  they  dare  not  express,  because  its  ex- 
pression would  be  blasphemy,  that  God  Almighty  has  made  a  mistake  in 
allowing  them  to  continue  living  on,  when  they  see  perfectly  well  that 
the  world  has  no  more  work  suited  to  them.  The  latter  class — the 
dreamers  about  the  future — believe  that  their  work,  the  only  work  that  it 
is  worth  their  while  to  do,  lies  in  some  distant  future,  which,  by  some 
strange  mistake,  has  not  come  yet,  and  which,  in  the  case  of  such  people, 
seldom  comes  at  all.  These  people,  with  uplifted  hands  and  eyes 
strained  upon  some  future  more  or  less  distant,  are  so  absorbed  in  the 
vision  of  something  that  can  only  be  done  hereafter,  that  they  quite  over- 
look the  things  that  ought  to  be  done  now.  The  result  in  both  cases  is 
the  same.  The  present  is  neglected  under  one  pretence  or  the  other — 
the  pretence  of  overAvhelming  sorrow  for  the  past,  or  the  pretence  of 
great  schemes  for  the  future.  Both  are  delusions  alike,  and  for  both  the 
remedy  is  the  same.  Find  it  in  the  truth,  that,  not  according  to  thy 
vain  regrets,  nor  according  to  thy  dreamy  visions,  but  according  to  thy 
works,  those  works  you  are  doing  at  this  present  moment,  shall  your 
judgment  be. 


428  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  advise  you  to 
regard  neither  your  past  nor  your  future.  There  are  few  persons,  indeed, 
who  will  not  find  in  their  past  something  which  it  is  highly  desirable  to 
remember  and  to  regret.  There  are  fewer  still  who  might  not,  without 
incurring  the  charge  of  undue  ambition,  aspire  to  wider  usefulness  in  the 
future.  God  forbid  that  I  should  say  a  word  against  either ;  but  God 
equally  forbid  that  I  should  not  give  my  testimony  against  any  contem- 
plation either  of  the  past  or  of  the  future,  the  effect  of  which  would  be 
to  draw  away  that  attention  from  the  present  which  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary. By  all  means  repent  of  the  past,  by  all  means  aspire  to  higher 
things  in  the  future,  but  do  so  profitably,  not  foolishly,  and  let  your  test 
be  this  :  if  your  thoughts  about  the  past,  or  your  dreams  about  the  future, 
have  the  effect  of  making  you  more  careful,  more  punctual,  more  perfect 
in  the  performance  of  your  present  daily  duties,  then  by  all  means  think 
those  thoughts,  and  dream  those  dreams;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  they 
have  the  effect  of  making  you  think  that  your  present  duties  are 
not  worth  the  doing,  or  not  worth  the  doing  well,  then  let  no  sentimen- 
tality that  is  apt  to  connect  itself  with  thoughts  about  our  spiritual  past, 
or  dreams  about  our  spiritual  future,  induce  you  to  believe  that  they  are 
anything  better  than  a  delusion  and  a  snare. 

Sanctity  consists  in  the  right  performance  of  every-day  duties.  We 
are  apt  to  draw  a  wide  distinction  between  the  lives  of  those  whom  we 
call  "the  saints,"  and  the  lives  of  ordinary  Christians  like  ourselves;  and 
a  wide  distinction  there  undoubtedly  is.  But  let  not  the  distinction 
blind  us  to  the  common  likeness  that  must  exist  between  the  greatest  of 
God's  saints  and  our  poor  weak  selves,  if  we  are  to  hope  for  heaven.  If 
we  ever  come  to  be  saved  it  will  only  be  because  we,  too,  shall  be  saints. 
If  you  ask  me  how  this  is  to  be,  I  do  not  tell  you  to  go  fall  into 
ecstasies,  to  see  visions,  to  work  miracles.  No  ;  these  things  are  found  in 
the  lives  of  saints,  but  these  things  do  not  make  their  sanctity.  I  tell 
you  to  aim  at  that  which  all  who  are  saints  have  had  in  common  with 
each  other,  and  which  we,  if  we  hope  to  be  saved,  must  have  in  common 
with  them — faithful  performance  of  the  commonplace  duties  of  daily  life. 
Such  is  the  first  lesson  we  should  draw  from  the  contemplation  of  that 
Judgment  in  which  every  man  shall  be  judged  according  to  his  works. 

The  second  lesson  regards  our  conduct  to  our  neighbor,  and  is  no  less 
useful  and  no  less  necessary. 

V  The  Judge,  at  the  last  Judgment,  shall  be  our  Blessed  Lord.  And 
why  ?  Because  to  Him,  and  to  Him  alone,  has  it  been  given  to  judge 
the  living  and  the  dead.  And  when  we  consider  what  will  be  the  sub- 
ject-matter of  that  judgment,  that  it  will  comprise  not  alone  the  words 
and  actions  of  men,  but  also  the  hidden  secrets  of  their  thoughts,  the 


FATHER  FARRELL.  •  42& 

motives  which  prompted  them,  the  circumstances  which  colored  them,  the 
end  for  which  they  were  done,  we  see,  at  once,  that  to  no  wisdom  less 
than  Infinite  could  such  an  office  be  justly  committed.  And  all  of  us 
with  one  voice  confess  that  Christ,  and  Christ  alone,  is  the  Judge  of  the 
living  and  the  dead.  Yes ;  we  say  it  in  words,  but  do  we  acknowledge  it 
in  our  conduct? 

There  is  no  more  difficult  task  on  earth  than  to  judge  rightly  of  a 
single  action  of  another.  For,  to  judge  rightly  we  should  know  not 
merely  the  outward  shell  of  the  act,  so  to  speak,  but  the  inner  kernel — 
the  motive,  the  end,  the  hidden  circumstances — all  which  must  of  neces- 
sity enter  into  the  formation  of  a  just  judgment.  Now  these  things  in 
their  completeness  we  have  absolutely  no  means  of  knowing.  How, 
then,  can  we  judge  ?  Yet,  though  no  office  is  so  difficult,  none  so  far 
beyond  the  range  of  human  powers,  there  is  no  office  into  which  we 
thrust  ourselves  so  often,  and  with  so  little  regard  to  prudence  or 
decency.  There  are  many  things  which  men  will  readily  acknowledge  they 
cannot  do,  but  few,  indeed,  act  as  if  they  doubted  their  perfect  com- 
petency to  be  their  neighbor's  judge.  They  are  always  ready  to  intrude 
themselves  into  an  office  that  was  never  meant  for  them,  and,  by  judg 
ing  their  neighbor,  say  to  our  Blessed  Lord,  by  their  acts,  what  they  dare 
not  say  in  words :  "  Yes,  Lord,  Thou  art  appointed  Judge  of  men,  but  in 
this  particular  case  you  must  abdicate  your  functions,  stand  aside  and 
let  me  pronounce  the  judgment." 

This  is  precisely  what  one  does  when  he  pronounces  one  of  those  flip- 
pant judgments  that  are  so  common  in  th%  world.  Remember  that  Christ 
is  the  Jydge,  not  we;  and  that  to  His  infinite  mercy  and  infinite  justice 
we  may  safely  leave  our  neighbor's  conduct  and  our  own. 

These,  then,  are  the  two  rules  of  life  to  begin  our  ecclesiastical  year. 
Be  solicitous  about  your  own  daily  duties — be  not  solicitous  about  the 
judgment  that  awaits  the  actions  of  your  neighbor.  Perform  well  the 
actions  of  your  daily  lives ;  do  them  for  God,  and  the  doing  of  them  will 
make  you  saints.  To  your  neighbor  be  a  neighbor,  in  the  widest  sense 
of  Christian  charity,  but  never  seek  to  be  his  judge.  These  two  princi- 
ples give  you  a  summary  of  the  duties  of  the  Christian  life.  You  can 
make  of  them  two  wings  that  will  carry  you  to  heaven.  And  if  these 
shall  have  been  the  rule  of  your  lives,  the  trumpet  of  the  Judgment 
shall  one  day  summon  you  to  hear  the  blessed  sentence:  "Come,  ye 
blessed  of  my  Father,  possess  ye  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  all 
eternity."    Amen. 


THE    EPIPHANY. 

VEN  from  amid  the  obscurity  in  which  Christ  chose  to  be  born, 
there  could  not  but  flash  out  upon  the  world,  of  which  He  was 
the  Master,  some  gleam  to  light  up  the  birth  of  the  Infant 
Saviour,  and  to  show  that,  Child  though  He  was,  with  all  the 
touching  helplessness  of  infancy,  yet  He  was  something  different  "from 
any  child  of  Adam,  that  God  had  ever  given  into  the  arms  of  a  human 
mother.-  He  came  weak  and  helpless,  an  infant  and  a  pauper — not  even 
sheltered  from  the  blasts  of  winter — but,  nevertheless.  He  was  the  Son 
of  God,  and  His  birth  was  the  greatest  event  that  ever  happened,  or  tKat 
ever  can  happen,  in  the  history  of  the  world ;  and,  accordingly,  it  is  in  no 
way  wonderful  that  many  a  strange  movement  and  unwonted  stir  should 
take  place  around  His  very  cradle. 

Christ,  the  long-expected,  had  come  at  last,  and,  as  might  naturally 
have  been  expected,  heaven  and  earth  were  moved.  The  power  of  God 
broke  loose,  as  it  were,  from  the  limitation  of  the  ordinary  laws  by  which 
He  is  usually  pleased  to  restrict  its  manifestations.  God's  power,  as  it 
were,  burst  forth  irrepressibly,  and  flooded  that  holy  eastern  land  with 
wonders  and  with  signs.  Hea\^n  and  earth  seemed  to  be  brought  closer 
together  than  they  had  ever  been  since  that  brief  bright  day,  when  God 
walked  with  Adam  and  Eve  through  the  fresh  flowers  of  Paradise. 
Angels  left  the  calm  beatitude  of  heaven  to  busy  themselves,  at  God's 
behest,  about  the  affairs  of  men.  There  had  been  a  song  of  jubilee,  that 
made  the  moonlit  stillness  of  the  shepherd's  night-watch,  tremble  with 
the  melodies  of  angelic  choirs.  An  angel  had  stood  by  Zachary  in  the 
Holy  Place,  and  Elizabeth  in  her  old  age  had  borne  a  son^  whose  one 
business  in  Hfe  it  was  to  go  before  Jesus,  and  give  testimony  of  Him. 

But  all  these  signs  have  this  in  common,  that,  like  most  of  God's 
direct  dealing  with  men  for  some  thousands  of  years,  they  took  place  in 
the  bosom  of  one  nation,  and  with  special  reference  to  the  Jewish  people. 
Hitherto  God  had  been  as  a  stranger  in  the  greater  part  of  His  own  world. 
Sin  had  encroached  on  His  dominion ;  it  gradually  drove  Him  away  from 
nation  after  nation,  and  at  length  seemed  as  if  it  would  push  Him  utterly 
— His  name  and  His  law.  His  reverence  and  His  love — from  the  world 
itself.     And   then  God   had  been    forced,  as  if  in  self-defense,  to  draw 

(430) 


FATHER  FARRELL.  431 

closer  the  limits  of  His  kingdom.  He  would,  as  it  were,  let  the  faithless 
world  wander  away  into  whatever  paths  of  ignorance  and  error  its  folly 
pointed  out ;  and  He  would  form  for  Himself  one  small  nation  of  chosen 
people,  to  be,  as  it  were,  the  salt  of  the  corrupted  earth ;  and  He  would 
hedge  it  round  with  jealous  ordinances  from  the  Gentile  races  of  the 
world;  and  He  would  speak  directly  to  it,  and  would  give  it  leaders 
and  kings  and  prophets ;  and  in  due  time  would  find  the  blossom  of  the 
race  in  Mary,  and  would  make  her  the  mother  of  His  Son. 

Hence,  up  to  this,  the  Jews  were  God's  chosen  people,  and  amongst 
them  the  Saviour  was  born. 

Amongst  them,  but  not  for  them  alone.  The  mercy  of  God  was 
wider  than  the  world,  however  sinful  the  world  was.  Though  men  had 
forgotten  God,  God  had  not  forgotten  them  :  and  this  Jewish  Child  who 
was  born  to  be  a  Saviour,  was  to  be  the  Saviour,  not  of  Jew  alone,  but  of 
Gentile,  of  every  race,  and  tribe,  and  tongue,  under  the  broad  canopy  of 
the  merciful  heaven. 

And  in  the  Gospel  I  have  read  for  you,  and  in  the  mystery  which  we 
celebrate  to-day,  God  begins  to  give  an  indication  of  His  gracious  purpose 
toward  the  Gentile  races  of  the  earth.  He  begins  to  send  His  voice  far 
along  the  distant  paths  on  which  the  world  had  strayed  away — begins  to 
flash  the  light  of  His  mercy  and  His  love  through  the  darkness  in  which 
their  wickedness  had  cast  them.  He  begins  to  call  the  Gentiles  to  the 
feet  of  Jesus. 

And  the  way  of  it  was  this.  There  appeared  like  some  strange  vision 
in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  three  men,  whose  garb  and  bearing  betokened 
that  they  came  from  some  far  eastern  land.  They  bore  upon  them  the 
marks  of  long  travel,  but  there  was  something  in  their  bearing  that,  travel- 
stained  and  toil-worn  though  they  were,  proclaimed  them  chiefs  of  men 
— and  the  Scripture  gives  them  the  name  of  kings — and  they  told  a  won- 
derful tale:  that,  in  the  bosom  of  their  people,  had  lain  for  many  a  cen- 
tury a  tradition  that  One  would  be  born  a  Saviour,  and  that  a  star  would 
rise  in  heaven  to  announce  His  coming.  And  at  length  the  hand  of  God 
sent  the  long-looked-for  star  flashing  in  their  eastern  skies ;  and  at  once, 
drawn  by  the  inspiring  grace  of  God,  they  left  their  homes,  and  journeyed 
through  many  a  wild  waste  place ;  and  the  star  went  before  them  always 
till  it  led  them  to  Jerusalem  ;  and  there  the  one  question  they  had  to  ask 
was  this :  "  Where  is  He  that  is  born,"  etc.  And  the  news  was  brought 
to  Herod  ;  and  Herod  was  troubled  in  mind.  He  was  King  of  the  Jews, 
and  here  was  rumor  of  some  Child  he  knew  not,  who  would  wrench  the 
sceptre  from  his  hand,  and  leave  him  crownless.  And  from  his  trouble 
sprang  a  wicked  and  crafty  design.  He  would  find  out  this  Child,  and, 
having  found  Him,  he  would,  without  pity,  cut  off  the  young  life  that 


432  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

threatened  to  destroy  his  power.  The  chief  priests  and  scribes  were 
called  together,  and  the  sacred  books  were  opened,  and  with  certain 
voice  they  proclaimed  that  Bethlehem  was  the  place  to  seek  the  newly- 
born  King.  The  words  of  indication  were  plain :  "  And  thou,  Bethle- 
hem," etc. 

And  so,  the  three  wise  kings  hastened  forward  to  Bethlehem, 
and  found  the  Child ;  and  their  eyes,  lit  by  faith,  pierced  beneath  the 
surface,  and  they  recognized  in  Him  the  King  who  was  to  rule,  the 
God  who  was  to  be  adored,  and  the  Man  who  was  in  the  after-time 
to  suffer  and  to  die.  For  this  is  the  meaning  of  their  gifts — gold,  to 
acknowledge  His  kingship ;  frankincense,  to  recognize  His  divinity ; 
and  myrrh,  used  in  embalming  bodies,  to  betoken  His  suffering  hu- 
manity. 

Now,  my  brethren,  these  kings  on  this  occasion  represented  us,  for 
we,  too,  are  of  Gentile  race ;  they  made  the  offerings  in  our  name 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  anticipating  the  time  when  we  could  make 
for  ourselves  the  offerings  of  which  their  offerings  were  but  a  figure. 
The  time  has  come.  We,  born  in  the  Catholic  Church,  find  Jesus  from  our 
very  infancy.  A  few  days  ago  we  celebrated  with  joy  the  birthday  of 
our  Incarnate  Lord.  The  kings  have  gone  to  their  rest  many  a  long 
year :  we  are  in  their  place  to-day.  And  shall  we  let  the  occasion  pass 
without  making  to  the  Infant  Jesus  the  offerings  for  which  He  stretches 
out  His  hands  ? 

Gold — shall  we  give  gold  ?  Ah  !  gold  is  perishable,  and  Jesus  has 
chosen  to  be  poor ;  earthly  gold  He  does  not  need  nor  care  for.  But 
there  is  gold  He  wants.  He  wants  the  gold  of  our  heart's  best  love. 
This  is  a  treasure  that  God  has  put  into  every  human  heart.  And 
the  noblest  heart  that  ever  beat  in  human  breast,  has  nothing  greater 
to  give  to  man  or  God  than  the  priceless  gold  of  its  affection.  This 
is  the  first  gift  Jesus  asks  of  you — the  gift  of  your  love.  And  what 
incense  shall  we  offer  to  Him  who  is  our  God  ?  What,  think  you, 
is  the  most  grateful  incense  that  goes  up  from  this  earth  to  the 
throne  of  God  ?  It  is  the  incense  of  the  prayers  of  the  hearts  that  love 
Him.  Offer  Him  this — the  prayer  of  adoration,  by  which  we  acknowl- 
edge Him  as  our  God,  the  prayer  of  petition,  by  which  to  supply  our 
wants,  the  prayer  of  thanksgiving,  by  which  we  show  our  gratitude  for 
the  countless  favors  He  has  lavished  upon  us. 

These  two  gifts  shall  be  offered  to  God  by  His  elect,  both  for  time 
and  eternity.  Love  and  prayer  will  be  the  eternal  business  of  the  saints 
of  God. 

But  here  on  this  earth  another  gift  is  needed  to  make  us  saints :  for, 
we  have  not  only  a  soul,  but  a  body,  and  a  body  that,  with  its  depraved 


FATHER  FARRELL. 


433 


senses,  makes  war  against  the  soul ;  the  body  that  first  corrupts  itself, 
and  then  extends  its  corruption  to  the  soul.  That  body  we  must  save 
from  corruption  by  the  third  offering  of  myrrh,  the  myrrh  of  mortifica- 
tion ;  denying  ourselves  first  what  is  unlawful,  and  even  in  many  things 
denying  ourselves  what  is  lawful,  that  we  may  keep  a  firmer  hold  upon 
the  passions  which,  unless  kept  in  check,  would  overrun  and  lay  waste 
our  whole  spiritual  life. 


EASTER   SUNDAY. 

UT  a  little  while  ago,  the  eyes  of  the  Church  were  filled  with 
tears,  and  fixed  upon  the  figure  of  the  dead  Christ ;  but  to-day 
her  tears  are  tears  of  joy  and  she  is  glad  of  heart  because  He 
has  arisen  from  the  dead.  But  a  little  while  ago,  and  sin  had 
done  its  worst.  It  had  arisen  against  God,  and  as  far  as  men  could  see, 
had  conquered,  and  He  that  was  sinless  lay  dead  amongst  the  people. 
But  to  our  Blessed  Lord  the  hour  that  seemed  to  be  the  hour  of  defeat 
was  the  hour  of  victory ;  death,  whose  fateful  hand  beckons  men  silently 
away  from  the  paths  of  their  ambition,  was  to  Him  the  occasion  of 
His  greatest  glory ;  and  the  grave,  that  hides  away  the  hopes  and  the 
designs  of  men,  was  to  Him  the  beginning  of  everlasting  honor.  When 
the  dreadful  scenes  of  the  Passion  had  been  enacted ;  when  Jesus  stood 
bruised  and  pale  before  the  people  ;  when  they  saw  upon  His  sacred  flesh 
the  cruel  disfigurement  which  the  scourge  had  left,  and  traced  upon  His 
pallid  brow  the  bloody  pressure  of  the  thorny  crown ;  when  they  saw 
His  hands  and  feet  dug  with  rough  nails,  and  His  wounded  body 
stretched  upon  the  gibbet ;  when  they  wagged  their  heads  in  scorn,  and 
bent  the  knee  in  mockery  before  the  expiring  Saviour,  well  might  they 
have  imagined  that  His  history  was  closed  forever.  But  no ;  the  end 
was  not  yet.  His  disciples  laid  Him  in  the  tomb,  but  on  the  tomb  they 
wrote  no  epitaph.  Go  into  some  burial-place  reserved  for  the  illustrious 
dead ;  tread  lightly  and  with  awe,  above  the  dust  of  buried  greatness, 
read  upon  the  tombs  the  record  of  the  names  that  shall  live  through 
many  an  age  upon  the  lips  of  men,  but  read,  too,  at  the  beginning  of 
every  record,  the  inevitable  words,  "  here  lies  the  body,"  and  then  you 
will  know  that  the  stone,  on  which  their  deeds  of  greatness  are  inscribed, 
covers  the  mouldering  dust  of  the  hearts  that  prompted  their  designs, 
and  of  the  hands  that  achieved  their  greatness. 

But  go  on  the  Easter  morning  to  the  tomb  of  Jesus,  behold  the  stone 
rolled  back,  and  hear  the  angel  speak  His  epitaph,  "  He  is  risen.  He  is  not 
here,  behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him." 

And,  now,  let  us  lift  up  our  hearts  to  celebrate  this  glorious  mystery, 
and  may  God  whose  glory  and  omnipotence  are  revealed  in  the  Resur- 
rection, touch  our  lips  with  fire  from  the  altar,  that  we  may  proclaim  His 

(434) 


FATHER  FARRELL,  435 

praise,  and  open  our  hearts  to  receive  the  lessons  which  are  taught  by 
this,  the  greatest  of  Christian  mysteries. 

But  in  what  spirit  shall  we  come  to  celebrate  this  glorious  festival  ? 
Surely,  in  the  spirit  of  Christian  joy  and  Christian  gladness.  But  in  all 
our  joy,  let  us  not  forget  that  spirit  that  must  ever  mingle  largely,  with 
even  the  holiest  gladness  of  the  soldiers  of  Christ,  the  spirit  of  heartfelt 
penitence  and  deep  contrition.  We  must  go  to  the  tomb  of  the  risen  Je- 
sus in  company  with  Magdalen  the  penitent.  We  should  remember  that, 
if  Jesus  rose  from  the  dead,  it  was  because  of  our  sins  He  died.  Listen  to 
the  angel's  words,  "  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him."  Look  back 
to  Calvary,  reddened  with  His  sacred  blood,  to  the  hall  of  Pilate  where 
He  stood  crowned  with  thorns,  to  the  lonely  garden  where  He  lay  amid 
the  olives,  crushed  to  the  blood-stained  earth  by  the  sins  of  men.  Yes, 
all  this  our  sins  have  done.  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him,  and, 
with  tears  of  sorrow  mingling  with  our  joy,  let  the  cry  go  up,  even  on  to- 
day, from  each  penitent  heart,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner." 

Looking  now  to  the  resurrection  of  our  Saviour,  I  find  that  in  this 
glorious  mystery  are  contained  two  pledges :  (i)  the  pledge  of  the  Church's 
triumph,  and  (2)  the  pledge  of  the  fulfilment  of  the  Christian's  hopes,  the 
foundation  of  the  power  by  which  the  followers  of  Christ  conquered  an 
unbelieving  world ;  and  the  foundation  of  the  blessed  hope  that  in  the 
last  day  we,  too,  shall  arise,  and  in  our  flesh  shall  see  God. 

(i)  The  resurrection  was  the  pledge  of  the  triumph  of  the  Church. 
It  proves  that  Christ  is  God  ;  that  He  whom  they  crucified  was  the  Son 
of  the  Most  High ;  that  the  fire  which  He  came  to  cast  upon  the  earth 
was  fire  from  heaven  ;  that  the  doctrines  which  He  announced,  bore  upon 
them  the  stamp  and  seal  of  divine  authority.  Many  a  wonderful  miracle 
had  Jesus  wrought  in  the  course  of  His  public  ministry.  Healing  went 
out  from  the  very  hem  of  His  garment,  and  His  voice  had  power  over 
the  devils  who  tormented  the  possessed.  He  had  made  the  blind  to  see, 
and  the  dumb  to  speak,  nay.  He  had  broken  down  the  barrier  that  sunders 
the  living  and  the  dead,  and  brought  back  souls,  who  had  gone  upon  that 
journey  whence  none  return,  save  by  the  high  command  of  God.  But 
great  though  these  miracles  were,  though  each  was  of  itself  sufficient  to 
prove  the  divinity  of  His  mission,  yet  not  upon  these  did  He  choose  to 
rest  the  proof.  He  appealed  once  and'again  to  the  fact  that  He  would 
arise  from  the  dead ;  and  on  this  was  He  content  to  rest  the  assertion  of 
His  divinity. 

Here,  then,  is  the  hinge  on  which  turns  the  Christian's  faith,  the 
foundation  on  which  rests  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  ;  and  so  true  is 
this,  that  St.  Paul  does  not  hesitate  to  say,  "  If  Christ  be  not  risen,  then 
is  our  preaching  vain."    Nor  is  it  wonderful  that  it  should  be  so.    Surely, 


436  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

in  the  stupendous  fact  of  resurrection  from  the  dead  all  must  recognize 
the  hand  of  Him  who  is  Omnipotent.  Great  is  the  power  of  man,  won- 
derful his  skill ;  but  they  have  their  clearly  ascertained  limits.  Men  have 
power  upon  the  earth,  and  have  used  it  with  wonderful  results;  they 
have  drawn  her  cherished  secrets  from  nature,  and  have  forced  the 
unstable  elements  to  reveal  the  laws  by  which  they  are  governed  ;  but 
one  thing  man  cannot  do,  he  cannot  lift  his  dead  hand  amid  the  grave- 
clothes,  nor  bring  back  the  tide  of  blood  to  the  pulseless  heart  that  has 
gone  silent  to  the  touch  of  death.  Only  God  can  do  this.  Christ,  then, 
by  raising  Himself  from  the  dead,  proved  Himself  God,  vindicated  His 
claim  to  the  divinity,  put  upon  His  mission  the  stamp  and  seal  of  Divine 
Omnipotence,  and  supplied  His  apostles  with  a  guarantee  which  none 
might  question,  of  the  truth  of  the  message  they  announced. 

Armed  with  this  sacred  truth,  the  followers  of  the  risen  Jesus  went 
forth  to  bear  His  name  to  the  limits  of  the  habitable  earth.  It  was  a 
wonderful  thing  to  see.  Twelve  poor  men,  destitute  of  the  world's  riches, 
unskilled  in  the  world's  learning,  go  forth  to  conquer  the  world.  They 
preached  a  crucified  Saviour,  but  they  preached,  too,  a  Saviour  who  had 
arisen  from  the  dead,  and  who  sitteth  forever  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Eternal  God.  And  the  power  of  God  went  with  them,  supplying  the 
want  of  learning  and  of  wealth,  and  the  sound  of  their  voices  went  forth 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Men  began  to  feel  that  there  was  abroad  a 
mysterious  influence  which  they  could  not  understand,  but  which  mastered 
the  keen  intellect  and  bent  the  stubborn  will.  The  new  doctrines,  strong 
with  the  strength  of  truth,  and  attractive  by  their  intrinsic  beauty,  won 
upon  the  hearts  of  men.  They  stole  upon  the  world  like  strains  of  half- 
forgotten  music,  and  hearts  that  had  been  steeped  in  worldliness  recog- 
nized their  teaching  as  divine,  and  so  the  banner  of  the  risen  Jesus  was 
borne  through  the  world.  But  not  in  peace.  Our  Blessed  Lord  had  pre- 
dicted :  "The world  will  hate  you  even  as  it  hated  me";  and  His  words 
began  to  be  fulfilled.  The  banner  was  borne  in  triumph,  but  the  song  of 
victory  was  a  cry  of  battle,  and  the  feet  of  those  who  marched  in  that 
procession  were  red  with  the  blood  of  martyrs.  And  so  it  has  been  since, 
a  story  of  conflict  and  a  story  of  victory.  The  religion  of  the  risen  Jesus 
has  gone  onward  through  the  world,  conquering  and  to  conquer.  The 
Church  took  up  what  civilization  'she  found,  and  left  a  mark  on  it,  which 
even  her  deadliest  enemies  must  acknowledge  to  be  ineffaceable.  She 
took  the  rude  barbarians  who  were  laying  Europe  desolate,  and  she 
moulded  them  into  a  Christian  people,  with  a  strong  hand  and  a  deter- 
mined purpose.  North  and  south,  east  and  west,  her  footstep  passed 
with  a  music  like  the  tramp  of  armies,  and  a  success  that  could  only  come 
from  the  God  of  Battles.     She  has  seen  kingdoms  rise  and  rule  and  perish, 


FATHER  FARRELL.  437 

and  yet  she  grows  not  old ;  she  has  seen  histories  begun  and  finished,  and 
yet  she  has  not  failed.  Many  a  relentless  foe  has  she  seen  encountered ; 
she  has  survived  their  fall.  She  has  carried  the  name  of  Jesus  to  every 
land.  Yes,  Jesus  has  triumphed;  go  now,  after  eighteen  hundred  years, 
Xo  the  grave,  where  His  enemies  imagined  that  they  had  buried  His  influ- 
ence and  His  power;  lo !  He  is  risen.  He  is  not  there.  He  has  gone  forth 
through  the  world,  His  power  has  passed  upon  every  nation.  His  influ- 
ence on  every  heart,  His  cross  is  high  above  a  thousand  altars,  and  to-day 
His  followers,  counted  by  millions,  celebrate  the  glories  of  His  resurrec- 
tion. 

(2)  But  the  resurrection  is  not  alone  the  pledge  of  the  triumph  of  the 
Church,  it  is  also  a  pledge  of  the  triumph  of  the  individual  Christian. 
For,  as  Jesus  died  to  save  us  from  sin  and  death,  so  has  He  arisen  that  we, 
too,  may  share  the  glory  of  His  resurrection.  It  is  the  cause  and  the 
model  of  the  resurrection  of  His  saints ;  the  cause,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
same  omnipotence  by  which  He  raised  Himself  from  the  dead,  that  shall 
draw  the  bodies  of  His  saints  from  the  dust  into  which  they  have  returned ; 
the  model,  because,  as  He  rose  from  the  dead  glorious  and  immortal,  and, 
being  risen,  dieth  now  no  more,  so  shall  we,  if  we  comply  with  the  con- 
ditions which  He  established,  rise  clothed  again  with  our  bodies,  and  in 
our  flesh  we  shall  see  God.  And  oh  !  what  consolation  is  here.  You  may 
be  poor  and  miserable,  your  path  through  life  may  lead  through  many 
sorrows,  the  hard  world  may  press  heavily  on  your  weary  hearts.  But  the 
world  and  the  things  of  the  world  pass  very  quickly  away;  life  is  but  a 
troubled  dream  of  which  death  will  be  the  awakening.  Your  souls  will 
go  into  the  house  of  their  eternity,  your  bodies  will  moulder  in  the  grave ; 
but  if  you  pass  from  life  in  the  friendship  of  God,  as  surely  as  Jesus  has 
arisen  from  the  tomb,  so  surely  God  will  guard  your  mouldering  dust ; 
and  when  the  angel's  trump  of  doom  shall  quicken  the  dead  world,  you 
will  rise  like  Jesus,  glorious  and  immortal,  and  in  your  flesh  you  shall  see 
God. 

But  if  you  would  have  part  in  the  glory  of  the  resurrection,  two  things 
must  first  be  done.  You  must  rise  from  the  death  of  sin  to  the  life  of 
grace,  and  being  risen,  you  must  die  no  more,  but  persevere  to  the  end. 

There  are  times  when  the  voice  of  gladness  is  simply  unbearable. 
When  sorrow  has  fallen  upon  us,  when  death  has  visited  our  homes  and 
made  them  desolate ;  oh !  then,  we  fain  would  shut  our  ears  against  the 
sound  of  gladness.  In  the  midst  of  our  affliction  we  think  it  strange  that 
others  can  rejoice;  we  have  no  part  in  their  rejoicing,  nay,  we  almost 
wonder  how  the  sun  can  shine,  and  how  the  earth  can  look  so  beautiful, 
while  we  sjt  alone  with  the  sorrow  that  has  come  upon  us.  But  oh !  is 
there  any  one  here  still  buried  in  the  grave  of  sin  ?     Is  there  one  amongst 


438  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

you  on  this  Easter  day,  sitting  apart  under  the  shadow  of  iniquity, 
listening,  as  from  a  long  distance,  to  the  voice  of  exultation  that  the 
Church  is  sending  up  to  heaven  ?  Oh !  poor  miserable  soul,  how  can  he 
have  any  part  in  such  rejoicing?  For  him  there  is  no  joy,  no  peace,  no 
rest,  no  gladness.  He  is  bound  by  the  chain  of  sin,  he  is  wrapped  in  the 
shroud  of  death,  step  by  step  he  is  coming  nearer  to  an  unholy  grave ; 
hour  hands  him  on  to  hour  in  his  fatal  march  upon  the  road  to  hell.  The 
world  may  go  well  with  him,  all  his  schemes  succeed,  he  may  have  plenty 
in  his  house  and  comfort  at  his  hearth ;  he  may  have  wealth  and  friends 
and  honor;  he  maybe  looked  up  to  as  a  useful  member  of  society,  a  care- 
ful father,  a  kind  husband,  a  generous,  large-hearted  friend.  But  what  of 
all  these  things  if  sin  be  there  ?  It  eats  like  a  canker  into  the  generous 
heart,  and  spoils  the  merit  of  the  open  hand.  He  is  but  a  whited  sepul- 
chre, whiteness  without,  but  rottenness  and  corruption  within,  and  when 
he  dies,  when  the  large  heart  goes  silent,  when  the  open  hand  lies  motion- 
less in  the  coflfin,  while  men  speak  his  praise  who  knew  not  the  secret  of 
his  sinful  heart,  while  the  care  of  sorrow  falls  on  his  dead  face,  even  at 
that  hour  his  soul  is  buried  in  hell.  Oh !  do  not  deceive  yourselves ;  for 
him  who  remains  in  mortal  sin  Christ  has  not  risen.  He  may  deceive 
himself,  and  strive  to  fill  his  empty  haart  with  the  paltry  pleasures  that 
the  world  offers.  He  may  shut  his  ears  to  the  voice  of  God,  he  may  pur- 
chase the  delusive  peace  that  comes  from  the  forcible  stifling  of  the  voice 
of  conscience,  but  oh  !  at  what  a  price !  at  the  fearful  cost  of  his  immortal 
soul.  He  may  sleep  for  a  time,  but  one  day  there  must  come  an  awaken- 
ing, and  there  shall  be  peace  no  more.  The  sinner,  too.  must  die,  and 
the  vices  of  his  youth  shall  go  down  with  him  to 'the  grave,  and  they  shall 
sleep  with  him  in  the  dust.  Clothed  with  his  iniquity  as  with  a  garment, 
he  must  one  day  stand  before  his  Judge,  and  hear  the  dreadful  sentence. 
Oh !  be  wise  in  time,  rise  from  the  death  of  sin,  and  then  you  may  cele- 
brate, with  heartfelt  joy,  the  resurrection  of  your  Saviour. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  place  ourselves  in  the  state  of  grace;  one  other 
thing  is  necessary — we  must  persevere  to  the  end.  Only  to  him  who 
perseveres  has  the  crown  been  promised ;  and  at  this  hour  there  is  many 
a  soul  in  hell  that  often  knelt  before  God's  altar  in  deep  contrition,  that 
often  whispered  its  tale  of  guilt  into  the  ear  of  the  minister  of  God,  and 
departed,  giving  joy  over  sin  forgiven,  to  the  angels  of  heaven.  But  oh ! 
they  did  not  persevere.  The  time  came  when  they  turned  aside  and  gave 
the  battle  up.  And  now,  ruined  and  lost  forever,  they  look  back  in 
despair  to  the  days  when  salvation  was  in  their  hands,  and  they  cast  it 
from  them. 

Oh !  persevere.  What  avails  it  to  have  fought  through  the  long  day, 
if  night  closes  on  disaster  and  defeat  ?     What  matters  it  to  the  soldier 


FATHER   FARRELL. 


439 


to  have  fought  through  the  battle,  if,  in  the  end,  he  is  ruined  and  over- 
thrown? When  he  lies  stiff  and  stark  with  his  dead  face  turned  to  the 
silent  stars,  what  boots  it  that  he  went  forth  at  morning  high-hearted  and 
hopeful  ?  But  in  the  world's  battles  defeat  does  not  necessarily  imply 
disgrace,  nor  need  defeat  bring  with  it  aught  of  dishonor.  We  may 
honor  the  dead  soldier  though  his  cause  be  lost,  and  recognize  his  bravery 
even  through  the  shadows  of  defeat.  But  in  the  fight  for  eternal  salva- 
tion the  case  'is  far  otherwise ;  there  defeat  means  everlasting  misery, 
there  ruin  is  ruin  irreparable,  and  he  who  in  that  great  battle  loses  at  the 
last  shall  lie  forever  in  flames  of  hell,  looking  up  in  vain  to  the  heaven 
he  shall  never  enter,  and  blaspheming  the  God  whose  face  he  shall  never, 
never  see. 

But  with  us,  please  God,  it  shall  not  be  so.  We  shall  rim  in  the  race 
so  as  to  win,  and  fight  the  battle  so  as  to  be  crowned  with  victory.  To 
do  so,  we  have  the  highest  motive,  and  the  most  powerful  means.  What 
motive  can  be  more  inspiring  than  the  thought  that  we  have  been  called 
to  participate  in  the  glory  of  our  Blessed  Lord's  resurrection ;  that,  no 
matter  what  may  be  our  condition  here,  a  crown  has  been  prepared  for 
us  in  heaven :  that,  though  we  shall  soon  pass  away  from  earth,  though 
our  place  shall  know  us  no  more,  though  our  bodies  shall  return  to  the 
dust  from  whence  they  came,  yet,  if  we  be  faithful  to  the  end,  as  surely 
as  Jesus  sitteth  at  this  hour  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  so  surely  shall  we 
share  His  everlasting  glory?  And  the  means  are  ready  to  our  hand. 
Jesus  has  died  for  us.  He  has  placed  at  our  disposal  the  chalice  of  His 
sacred  blood  to  purchase  our  salvation.  His  ear  is  open  to  our  prayers ; 
His  sacraments  are  ready  to  supply  our  every  want  and  to  heal  our  every 
wound ;  He  has  given  His  own  beloved  Mother  to  be  our  Mother  also. 
Oh  !  if  we  but  use  these  means,  death  shall  find  us  ready.  We  shall  rise 
with  Jesus,  and,  like  Him,  we  shall  die  no  more,  and  when  the  silent 
finger  of  death  shall  beckon  us  away  from  the  ranks  of  the  living,  we,  too 
may  cry  out  with  the  patriarch  of  old  :  "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth, 
and  that  in  the  last  day  I  am  to  rise  out  of  the  earth,  and  in  my  flesh  I 
shall  see  my  God." 


PENTECOST. 

"  And  when  the  days  of  Pentecost  were  accomplished,  they  were  all  together  in  one 

place.    And  suddenly  there  came  a  sound  from  Heaven  as  of  a  mighty  wind 

coming,  and  it  filled  the  whole  house  where  they  were  sitting*.    And  there  aj>- 

,  peared  to  them  parted  tongues  as  it  were  of  fire,  and  it  sat  upon  every  one  of 

them.    And  they  were  all  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost." — Acts  ii. 

HEN  we  look  abroad  upon  a  mighty  kingdom  that  rules  from 
sea  to  sea,  when  we  behold  on  every  side  evidences  of  its 
greatness  and  stability,  when  we  contemplate  the  wisdom  of  its 
institutions  and  the  happiness  of  its  people,  when  we  find  that 
genius,  and  learning,  and  taste — the  wealth  of  human  intellect  and  the 
poetry  of  human  feeling — have  all  been  lavished  to  build  up  and  to  adorn 
and  to  make  as  nearly  perfect  as  the  work  of  human  hands  can  be,  the 
vast  fabric  of  its  greatness,  we  find  rising  within  us  a  desire  to  trace  it 
back  to  the  remote  antiquity  of  its  origin.  We  would  fain  make,  as  it 
were,  a  pilgrimage  to  the  cradle  of  a  race  that  has  carved  out  for  itself 
such  a  destiny  as  this.  We  would  trace  back  to  its  first  faint  source  the 
river  of  national  life  that  has  rolled  so  grandly  through  the  centuries,  and 
worn  for  itself  so  deep  and  broad  a  channel  in  the  course  of  human 
history.  We  would  fain  behold  the  institutions  in  their  germs,  that  have 
since  expanded  into  a  growth  so  magnificent  and  so  beautiful.  But  how 
much  more  will  this  instinct  find  to  awaken  its  energy,  in  the  spectacle 
of  such  a  mighty  kingdom  as  the  Church  of  God,  o::  which  we,  by  God's 
grace,  are  members,  and  whose  long  glories  are  our  very  own.  For  never 
yet  was  seen  on  earth  a  kingdom  such  as  this ;  never  was  wisdom  so 
perfect,  sway,  so  boundless,  stability  so  absolutely  secure.  And  it  is  our 
happy  privilege  to-day,  guided  by  the  liturgy  of  the  Church,  to  go  back 
to  what  we  may  well  call  the  inauguration  of  her  power  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost. 

Our  Blessed  Lord  had  appeared  to  His  disciples  after  His  resurrection, 
and  had  discoursed  with  them  about  the  Kingdom  of  God — the  Church 
which  He  had  purchased  by  His  blood.  In  those  mysterious  walks  by 
the  Sea  of  Tiberias  He  had  delivered  to  them,  so  to  speak,  the  constitu- 
tion of  his  newly-established  kingdom,  and  had  commissioned  them  to 
preach  the  Gospel  "  to  every  creature." 
(440) 


FATHER  FARRELL.  441 

But  when  forty  days  had  come  and  gone,  He  went  up,  and  the  heavens 
opened,  and  the  clouds  closed  over  the  glory  of  His  passing,  and  they 
that  loved  Him,  saw  Him  no  more.  They  were  left  alone,  left  to  recall 
half  sadly  the  features  of  that  glorious  face,  and  to  feed  upon  the  memory 
of  that  tender  heart.  They  were  left,  so  to  speak,  desolate  upon  the 
dreary  world,  and  it  is  no  wonder  they  stood,  as  we  read  in  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles,  "  looking  up  to  heaven,"  as  realizing  sadly  that  earth  could 
never  be  a  home  to  them  again,  now  that  it  was  no  longer  gladdened  by 
His  divine  beauty.  Desolate  they  stood,  and  yet  not  desolate,  for  He  had 
left  them  a  sacred  promise.  He  had  told  them  in  words  which  He  had 
repeated  more  than  once,  on  which  He  had  insisted  with  loviag  emphasis : 
"  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go,  for  if  I  do  not  go  the  Paraclete  will 
not  come  to  you.  But  if  I  go,  I  will  send  Him  to  you.  And  He,  being 
come,  will  teach  you  all  truth." 

The  Apostles  went  back  to  Jerusalem  to  await  the  fulfilment  of  the 
promise.  They  were  men  on  whom  had  been  imposed  a  task  before 
which  the  boldest  spirit  might  have  quailed,  the  loftiest  genius  shrunk 
abashed,  for  it  was  no  less  a  task  than  the  conquest  of  a  world.  Their 
mission  was  '*  to  every  creature,"  the  limit  of  their  labors  the  bounds  of 
the  habitable  world.  And,  in  truth,  they  were  not  men  of  bold  spirit,  or 
keen  intellect,  or  lofty  genius.  They  were  without  learning,  without 
power,  without  influence.  They  had  been  taken  from  the  lowest  ranks 
of  society ;  and  there  is  nothing  to  lead  us  to  suppose  that  they  had  not 
much  of  the  ignorance,  much  of  the  prejudice,  much  of  the  narrowness  of 
mind  that  was  common  in  the  class  from  which  they  sprang.  How  were 
such  men  as  these  to  win  over  a  luxurious  and  vicious  world,  to  a  religion 
that  makes  the  daily  carrying  of  the  Cross  its  indispensable  condition  ? 
Humanly  speaking,  they  were  not  fitted ;  but  He  who  needs  no  instru- 
ments can  make  use  even  of  the  weakest  to  effect  His  purpose.  He  gave 
His  Apostles  a  mission,  and  He  equipped  them  for  the  warfare,  not  with 
the  weapons  which  human  prudence  might  have  deemed  essential,  but  by 
a  personal  communication  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

From  that  "  upper  room  "  in  Jerusalem  a  power  went  forth,  such  as 
earth  had  never  seen  before.  The  Church  went  onward  through  the 
world,  conquering  and  to  conquer,  with  a  footstep  like  the  tramp  of 
armies,  and  a  success  that  could  come  only  from  the  God  of  Battles. 
A  spirit  of  life  breathed  upon  the  corruption  of  pagan  society,  and  voices 
from  the  catacombs  penetrated  the  chambers  of  pagan  palaces.  In  time 
she  came  forth  from  those  recesses  where,  in  days  of  peril,  her  children 
had  found  at  once  a  home,  a  temple,  and  a  grave,  and  she  saw  the  rulers 
of  haughty  Rome  fling  down  their  diadems  in  the  dust  before  the  shrines 
of  her  martyred  saints.     She  took  the  rude  barbarians  who  were  laying 


442  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Europe  desolate,  and  she  moulded  them  into  a  Christian  people,  with  a 
strong  hand  and  a  determined  purpose.  She  has  seen  centuries  pass  by, 
and  yet  she  grows  not  old ;  she  has  seen  kingdoms  rise,  and  rule,  and 
perish,  and  yet  she  has  not  failed  ;  her  footsteps  hath  passed  on  every 
land,  her  influence  on  every  people,  and  to-day  the  voice  of  an  old  man, 
the  successor  of  St.  Peter,  whose  throne  is  raised  above  the  dust  of 
saints,  can  speak  with  irresistible  and  unresisted  authority  to  the  hearts 
and  consciences  of  multitudes. 

Our  first  duty  on  a  festival  like  this,  is  to  unite  with  the  Church  in 
giving  glory  to  God,  for  the  great  things  He  has  done  in  favor  of  His 
Church,  in  the  wonderful  mystery  we  celebrate  to-day.  But  if  we  would 
celebrate  it  worthily,  we  must  do  more  than  this.  * 

The  Church,  when  she  proclaims  a  festival,  when  she  sends  forth 
through  all  her  wide  domains  a  mandate  to  her  children  to  rejoice  in  her 
joy,  which  is  their  own — when  she  lights  her  lights  and  burns  her  incense, 
and  puts  forth  the  resources  of  her  magnificent  ritual — the  Church  has  it 
in  purpose  that  we,  her  children,  should  do  something  more  than  fill  our 
eye,  and  please  our  fancy,  and  gratify  our  taste,  be  something  more  than 
mere  lookers-on  at  a  gorgeous  pageant,  or  even  than  grateful  admirers  of 
the  glory  of  the  past.  There  is  ever  in  the  festivals  she  proposes  a  some- 
thing, a  lesson,  a  suggestion,  an  example,  which  has  a  personal  con- 
cern for  ourselves,  and  bears  upon  the  needful  business  of  our  own  spiritual 
life.    Let  us  see  what,  in  the  present  instance,  the  lesson  is. 

The  great  and  special  favors  which  God  has  bestowed  upon  His 
Church  find,  so  to  speak,  their  counterparts  in  His  dealing  with  the  indi- 
vidual soul.  As  the  mission  of  the  Holy  Ghost  was  to  the  Church,  so  to 
each  of  us  individually,  the  same  Holy  Spirit  has  a  mission  also. 

We  remark  here  two  things  of  His  coming — first,  He  came  to  teach 
all  truth ;  second,  since  the  Church  was  to  be  for  all  ages,  He  is  to  remain 
with  her  forever. 

Turning  now  to  our  individual  selves — the  Holy  Ghost  is  our  teacher: 
He  enlightens  our  intellect,  strengthens  our  will,  discloses  to  us  the  order 
of  God's  law,  and  the  freedom  of  God's  service — gives  us  the  grace  to 
make  our  knowledge  profit  us  to  works  of  sanctification,  and  enables  us 
to  persevere  to  the  end.  Our  duty  plainly  is:  (i)  to  prepare  our  hearts 
for  His  coming;  (2)  to  receive  with  docility,  and  carry  out  with  fidelity, 
the  lessons  He  imparts  to  us  by  His  inspirations,  and  (3)  to  persevere  to 
the  end. 

(i).  First,  then,  this  preparation — how  shall  it  be  made  ?  "  They  went 
up  into  an  upper  room,  and  all  these  were  persevering  in  one  mind,  in 
prayer."  So  did  the  Apostles ;  and  if  we  wish  to  receive  the  Holy  Ghost 
we  must  prepare  our  hearts  by  retirement  and  prayer.     "  I  will  lead  her," 


FATHER  FARRELL.  -  443 

said  the  Holy  Ghost,  "  into  solitude,  and  there  I  will  speak  to  her  heart." 
Now,  by  retirement  I  do  not  mean  mere  physical  withdrawal  from  the 
resorts  of  men.  It  is  unfortunately  too  true  that  we  may  bring  with  us  a 
world  of  worldly  thoughts  even  into  the  solitude  of  a  cloister.  I  mean, 
rather,  that  withdrawal  of  the  thoughts  and  the  affections  from  the  things 
of  earth,  which  results  in  that  spirit  of  recollection  which  we  may  call  the 
silence  of  the  heart.  Even  in  the  material  world,  as  if  God  wished  to 
give  us  a  constant  lesson,  silence  usually  attends  upon,  as  it  were,  the 
condition  of  the  most  perfect  power.  What  rules  so  widely  as  the  light, 
and  yet,  what  ever  comes  so  quietly  as  the  silent  footsteps  of  the  dawn  ? 
The  trees  grow,  the  flowers  bloom,  the  stars  move  on  through  heaven, 
the  forces  of  nature  do  their  appointed  tasks,  and  all  in  silence. 

And  so  it  is,  too,  in  the  spiritual  world.  In  the  sanctification  of  a  soul, 
which  is  a  far  greater  work  than  the  creation  of  a  world,  the  Holy  Ghost 
seems  to  demand  silence  and  recollection  as  the  indispensable  conditions 
of  His  operation.  And  from  silence  and  recollection  springs  necessarily, 
prayer.  Prayer,  that  reaches  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  places  at  the 
disposal  of  the  weak  whisper  of  a  sinner's  heart  the  very  omnipotence  of 
God. 

.  (2).  In  the  next  place  we  must  receive  and  put  in  practice  the  inspira- 
tions of  the  Holy  Ghost.  You  have  been  placed  in  a  singularly  favorable 
position  for  the  unimpeded  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  First,  He  has 
enlightened  you  by  faith,  and  placed  you  in  the  bosom  of  His  Church. 
He  has  given  you  a  knowledge  of  His  law ;  and  when  your  lives  pro- 
claimed before  Him  that  you  kept  His  commandments.  He  made  known 
to  you  that  He  wanted  something  more.  You  heard  within  your  hearts 
a  voice  that  said,  "  Leave  all  and  follow  me,"  and  you  came  and  enlisted 
under  the  higher  law  of  the  evangelical  counsels.  Be  thankful  for  this 
special  grace.  ^^ Non  fecit  taliter  omni  nationi" — not  to  every  one  has  it 
been  given  to  hear  that  invitation  which  God  addresses  to  those  of  His 
special  friends  and  faithful  servants  whom  He  wishes  to  make  a  people 
apart.  It  remains  with  you,  by  God's  grace,  to  carry  out  the  vocation  you 
have  received.  Do  you  ask  me  how  ?  I  answer  in  a  word — by  faithfully 
observing  the  holy  rule  which,  as  a  sweet  yoke  and  a  light  burden,  God 
has  given  you  the  privilege  to  live  under. 

(3).  But  there  is  one  thing  more — the  crowning  of  the  work — we  must 
persevere.  What  will  avail  the  graces  we  have  received,  the  lights  which 
have  enlightened  us,  the  good  works,  the  fasting,  and  the  prayer,  nay,  the 
very  sacraments  of  Christ,  if,  in  the  end,  not  persevering,  we  should  lose 
our  souls?  What  boots  it  to  have  fought  through  the  longest  day,  if 
night  closes  around  disaster  and  defeat?  When  the  dead  soldier  lies 
stark  and  cold,  with  his  white  face  turned  to  the  silent  stars,  what  matters 


444 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT, 


it  that  he  marched  forth  at  morning,  high-hearted  and  hopeful  ?  But  in 
earthly  battles  defeat  does  not  necessarily  imply  disgrace.  We  may 
honor  the  dead  soldier  though  his  cause  be  lost,  and  recognize  his  bravery 
even  through  the  shadows  of  defeat.  But  in  the  fight  for  eternal  salva- 
tion the  case  is  far  otherwise.  There,  defeat  must  mean  eternal  ruin  and 
eternal  loss.  He  who,  at  the  last,  shall  lose  in  that  great  battle,  shall  lie 
forever  in  the  depths  of  hell,  tortured  by  the  flames  around  him,  but 
tortured  far  more  by  the  memory  of  long-gone  hopes,  that  once  were 
ready  at  a  touch  of  grace  to  blossom  into  fulfilment,  and  ripen  into  the 
fruit  of  everlasting  life,  but  which  withered  and  died  and  were  made  vain, 
in  the  deadly  atmosphere  of  unrepented  sin. 

Ask,  then,  the  grace  of  final  perseverance  for  yourselves  and  for  your 
brethren.  May  God  grant  it — to  me  who  speak,  and  to  you  who  listen, 
that  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  corresponding  with  His  inspira- 
tions, knowing  through  Him  the  will  of  God,  and  doing  it  with  all  our 
might,  and  so  persevering  to  the  end,  we  may  one  day,  in  God's  good 
time,  find  ourselves  with  the  saints  who  have  gone  before,  keeping  Pente- 
cost in  heaven.    Amen. 


REVEREND   PATRICK  O'KEEFFE. 


Reverend  Patrick  O'Keeffe,  of  the  Archdiocese  of  Cashel,  Ireland,  is 
popularly  esteemed  as  the  author  of  "Moral  Discourses"  and  "Sermons 
at  Mass,"  from  which  works  the  following  discourses  are  selected. 


(445) 


Jk,t  tfeje  ^00t  Jdt  tlije  ^abjevnacle. 


ON   RASH  JUDGMENT. 

''  If  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men,  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become 
as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.  And  if  I  should  have  prophecy,  and 
should  know  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge,  and  if  I  should  have  all  faith,  so 
that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing.  And  if  I 
should  distribute  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  if  I  should  deliver  my  body 
to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.  Charity  is  patient, 
is  kind  :  charity  envieth  not,  dealeth  not  perversely ;  is  not  puffed  up,  is  not  am- 
bitious, seeketh  not  her  own,  is  not  provoked  to  anger,  thinkethnoevil" — i  COR. 
xiii.  I,  2,  etc. 

HE  law  of  fraternal  charity  strictly  forbids  us  to  injure  our 
neighbor :  first,  in  the  estimation  of  others,  as  is  done  by  cal- 
umny or  detraction  ;  and,  secondly,  it  forbids  us  to  injure  him 
in  the  estimation  of  ourselves.  We  injure  the  neighbor  in 
our  own  estimation  when,  by  rash  judgment,  we  hastily,  and  without 
sufficient  grounds,  think  evil  of  him,  or  form  a  bad  opinion  of  him.  He 
may  be  as  anxious  to  stand  well  in  our  estimation  as  in  that  of  any  one 
else. 

The  sin  of  rash  judgment  is  committed  in  several  ways :  i°.  When  we 
judge  ill  of  any  one  at  first  sight,  and  form  a  bad  opinion  of  him  from  his 
mere  words  or  outward  appearance.  2°.  When  we  ascribe  to  a  bad  in- 
tention any  good,  or  indifferent,  or  apparently  bad  act  performed  by  our 
neighbor.  3°.  When,  from  one  sin  which  we  see  our  neighbor  commit, 
we  at  once  conclude  he  is  addicted  to  that  sin.  4°.  When  we  judge  that, 
because  he  is  addicted  to  a  certain  sin  or  vice,  he  is,  therefore,  certain  to 
be  lost  and  sent  to  hell.  5°.  When  we  hastily  condemn  our  neighbor, 
and  do  so  without  first  taking  the  trouble  of  considering  what  might  be 
said  in  his  defense. 

The  sin  of  rash  judgment  is  greater  or  less  in  proportion  to  the  matter 
upon  which  we  form  the  judgment,  and  the  nature  of  the  ground,  or  evi- 
dence, whether  strong  or  weak,  u-pon  which  we  form  that  judgment. 
Hence,  if  we  form  a  rash  judgment  of  a  particular  person  known  to  us, 
in  any  serious  matter,  we  commit  a  mortal  sin.  Ah  !  my  brethren,  if 
this  be  so,  as  it  is,  I  fear  our  mortal  sins  of  rash  judgment  are  beyond 
counting.  I  fear  that  we  have  never  done  sufficient  penance  for  them. 
They  may  be  unseen  by  men,  but  are  they  unseen  by  God  ?    We  should 

(447) 


448  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

not  think  evil  of  any  one,  let  him  be  ever  so  unworthy ;  nor  can  we  do 
so  without  God  seeing  us,  for  our  most  secret  thoughts,  no  less  than  our 
public  actions,  are  open  as  the  noonday  to  God.  "  Detract  not  the  king, 
no,  not  in  thy  thoughts,  and  speak  not  evil  of  the  rich  man  in  thy  private 
chamber :  because  even  the  birds  of  the  air  will  carry  thy  voice,  and  he 
that  hath  wings  will  tell  what  thou  hast  said  "  (Eccles.  x.  20). 

Do  those  who  profess  to  do  things  above  board,  give  way  to  rash 
judgment  under  board?  Is  God  likely  to  be  satisfied  with  such  judg- 
ment? 

Rash  judgment  is  a  common  sin  :  it  is  to  be  found  in  all  ranks  and 
classes  of  society.  The  man  who  gives  way  to  rash  judgment  is,  as  a 
rule,  a  man  of  a  corrupt  heart  and  a  crooked  mind.  He  looks  at  others 
through  the  distorted  medium  of  self.  A  man  with  jaundiced  eyes  thinks 
everything  he  sees  is  yellow.  If  you  look  through  green  spectacles  every- 
thing will  appear  green  ;  if  through  black  spectacles,  everything  will  ap- 
pear black.  If  you  look  through  a  distorted  medium,  everything  will 
appear  crooked.  As  a  man's  own  mind  is,  such  is  the  judgment  he  is 
likely  to  form  of  his  neighbor.  Hence,  a  robber  thinks  every  man  else  is 
a  robber.  As  the  Scripture  says :  "  The  fool  when  he  walketh  in  the 
way,  whereas   he  himself  is  a  fool,  esteemeth  all  men  fools "  (Eccles. 

X.  3)- 

The  evil  which  you  rashly  judge  to  be  in  the  heart  of  another  may  not 
be  there  at  all ;  but,  whether  it  is  or  not,  by  your  act  of  rash  judgment 
you  show  it  certainly  exists  in  your  own  heart.  Like  begets  like. 
"  Wherefore,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  thou  art  inexcusable,  O  man,  whosoever 
thou  art  that  judgest.  For,  wherein  thou  judgest  another,  thou  condemn- 
est  thyself.  For  thou  dost  the  same  things  which  thou  judgest  "  (Rom. 
ii.  i).  At  least  you  do  the  same  things  in  thought,  and  God  condemns 
sinful  thoughts  as  well  as  sinful  acts. 

Rash  judgments  usually  commence  with  suspicions.  How  given  to 
suspicions  some  persons  are  !  You  can  scarcely  say  or  do  anything,  good, 
bad,  or  indifferent,  but  they  will  put  evil  constructions  of  their  own  upon 
it.  St.  Augustine,  in  his  beautiful  book  on  "  Friendship,"  chap,  xxiv., 
says :  "  Above  all  things,  take  care  you  admit  no  suspicions  into  your 
mind,  because  they  are  the  poison  of  friendship."  And  St.  Bonaventure 
calls  suspicions  "  a  secret  plague,  but  a  very  dangerous  one ;  because  it 
drives  God  far  from  us,  and  tears  in  pieces  fraternal  charity." 

Whenever,  then,  you  hear  rumors  or  stories,  however  plausible, 
against  your  neighbor,  do  not  rush  at  once  to  condemn  him,  but,  as  a 
wise  and  charitable  man,  carefully  suspend  your  judgment.  Do  unto  him 
as  you  would  wish  to  have  done  to  yourself.  Wait  till  you  examine  in- 
to all  the  circumstances,  for  the  slightest  circumstance  may  alter  the 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  449 

whole  case.  Perhaps  the  charge  against  your  neighbor  may  originate 
from  malice,  or  from  resentment,  or  mistake.  '*  Hear  the  other  side  "  is 
a  maxim  received  by  all  wise  and  Christian  men.  It  is  easy  to  err  in 
judging  our  neighbor.  Susannah,  and  Joseph,  and  Magdalene,  and  the 
Publican  were  apparently  guilty,  and  yet,  at  that  very  time,  they  were 
really  innocent  before  the  Lord.  Was  not  there  rash  judgment  formed 
against  our  blessed  Lord  Himself ! 

Appearances  are  often  deceptive.  Even  the  appearances  of  good,  as 
well  as  those  of  bad,  are  deceptive,  and  this  is  specially  true  when  a 
man  is  found  who  has  the  name  of  being  "  very  good "  and  "  very 
pious,"  etc.,  and  yet,  after  all,  is  one  who,  to  the  certain  knowledge  of 
God,  unfortunately  falls  into  the  sin  of  rash  judgment.  No  man  is  spot- 
less that  commits  this  sin,  even  though  he  were  "  Simon  Pure  "  in  his  own 
estimation. 

To  pronounce  correctly  upon  the  goodness  or  badness  of  our  neigh- 
bor's act,  it  is  necessary  that  we  see  his  intention,  for  it  is  the  intention 
that  gives  character  to  the  act ;  but  we  cannot  possibly  see  the  inten- 
tion, and,  therefore,  the  difficulty  of  ever  "  thinking  evil  "  of  our  neigh- 
bor, without  falling  into  rash  judgment  and  violating  charity.  "  I  (and 
I  alone)  am  the  Lord  who  search  the  heart  and  try  the  reins  "  (Jer. 
xvii.).  If,  however,  we  cannot  excuse  the  act,  we  can,  and  should,  in 
charity,  excuse  the  intention,  or,  at  least,  attribute  the  act  to  human 
frailty,  or  to  some  violent  temptation.  Those  are  lifeless  who  are  fault- 
less. 

We  always  try  to  excuse  those  whom  we  really  love  ;  therefore,  when 
we  condemn  our  neighbor  by  rash  judgment,  we  show  that  we  have  no 
real  Christian  love  for  him,  and,  consequently,  we  stand  convicted  as 
criminals,  deserving  nothing  less  than  eternal  death  ;  for,  says  St.  John  : 
"  He  that  loveth  not,  abideth  in  death  "  (i  John  iii.  14). 

Every  man  sets  a  value  upon  his  character.  There  is  no  man  that 
has  not  got  a  right  to  his  character,  and  hence,  to  deprive  him  of  it,  by 
rash  judgment,  would  be  to  commit  an  act  of  injustice.  How  angry 
God  must  feel  toward  that  man,  then,  who,  without  sufficient  reason,  or 
a  shred  of  authority,  takes  the  statue  of  his  neighbor  from  its  rightful 
place  in  the  halls  of  charity  and  dashes  it  into  atoms  ! 

But,  my  brethren,  by  rash  judgment  you  do  injury  not  only  to  your 
neighbor,  the  work  of  God,  but  you  do  injury  to  God  Himsdf :  for,  by 
judging  your  neighbor,  you  thereby  usurp  the  Divine  jurisdiction :  you 
take  the  authority  out  of  God's  hands  !  God  can  bear  anything  but  this. 
He  has  reserved  exclusively  to  Himself  three  things  :  His  honor.  His  re- 
venge, and  His  judgment.  The  right  of  judging  each  and  every  man's  heart 
He  will  not  give  to  man.    Even  Christ  Himself,  as  man,  had  not  the  right  of 


450  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

judging  men.     He  had   it  only  as  "given   to"  Him   by   His   Eternal 
Father  (John  v.  23). 

As  with  the  Tree  of  Knowledge,  so  with  the  right  of  judging  our 
neighbor ;  God  will  not  allow  us  to  touch  it,  or  to  meddle  with  it  at 
all. 

Of  course,  Almighty  God  has  established  an  external  court  of  judicat- 
ure for  the  purpose  of  promoting  public  peace  and  justice ;  and  He  has 
established,  also,  an  internal  court  of  penance  ;  but,  besides  these  two, 
He  has  established  no  other.  And,  accordingly.  He  gives  no  author- 
ity whatsoever  to  any  man,  in  His  individual  capacity,  to  judge  his 
neighbor. 

God  is  the  Divine  Master :  every  man  is  His  servant,  and  is  His  serv- 
ant in  the  truest  and  highest  sense  to  God  only.  But,  "  who  art  thou 
that  judgest  another  man's  servant  ?  To  his  own  Lord  he  standeth  or 
falleth  "  (Rom.  xiv.  4).  On  the  Day  of  Judgment,  but  not  till  then, 
shall  we  know  with  certainty  who  was  good  and  who  was  bad.  Though 
our  neighbor  were  really  guilty,  we  are  not  permitted  to  judge  until 
then.  "  Therefore,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  judge  not  before  the  time,  until  the 
Lord  come,  who  both  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  darkness, 
and  will  make  manifest  the  counsels  of  the  hearts  "  (i  Cor.  iv.  5). 

St.  Anastatius,  the  Sinaite,  says  that :  "  Whoever  judges  before  the 
coming  of  Christ  is  Antichrist,  because  he  usurps  the  authority  of 
Christ ! " 

Ah !  my  brethren,  what  is  this  you  are  doing  when  you  commit  the 
sin  of  rash  judgment  ?  Does  your  knowledge,  or  your  wisdom,  or  pre- 
tended zeal  for  religion,  or  your  piety  (?)  authorize  you  to  steal  the  au- 
thority from  the  Judge,  and  to  trample  under  foot  the  beautiful  and 
tender  flower  of  fraternal  charity  ? 

My  brethren,  "  charity  thinketh  no  evil ":  why,  then,  should  you 
think  evil  of  your  neighbor?  Have  you  not  enough  of  evil  in  yourselves 
to  "  think  "  over  and  to  root  out  ?  Hypocrite,  why  not  remove  the  beam 
out  of  your  own  eye  ?  Why  not  practice  what  you  preach  ?  Physician, 
why  not  cure  thyself  first  ? 

"  In  judging  others  a  man  labors  in  vain,  often  errs,  and  easily  sins  ; 
but,  in  judging  and  looking  into  himself,  he  always  labors  with  fruit " 
("  Imit.  of  Christ,"  chap.  xiv.). 

My  brethren,  it  is  particularly  dangerous  to  judge  others ;  for  our 
judgment  of  them  shall  be  made  the  rule  by  which  God  will  judge  our- 
selves :  "  With  what  judgment  you  judge,  you  shall  be  judged  "  (Matt, 
vii.  2).  "  Condemn  not  and  you  shall  not  be  condemned  "  (Luke  vi.  36). 
This  means  that,  if  you,  by  rash  judgment,  condemn  others,  God  will 
also  condemn  you. 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 


451 


Let  us  frequently  pray  to  God  to  deliver  us  from  falling  into  the 
dreadful  sin  of  rash  judgment.  Let  us  pray,  also,  that  God  would  pro- 
tect us  from  being  the  subjects  and  the  victims  of  the  rash  judgment  in 
others.  Let  us  ask  of  God,  through  the  intercession  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  to  always  regard  the  judgments  of  men  as  St.  Paul  regarded  them  : 
"  But,  to  me,"  said  he,  "  it  is  a  very  small  thing  to  be  judged  by  you  " 
(i  Cor.  iv.  3).    Amen. 


wm^^m^ 

t^irt^ 

ON   OATHS. 

"And  thou  shall  swear:  As  the  Lord  liveth,  in  truth,  and  in  judgment,  and  in 

justice  " — ^JEREMIAS  iv.  2. 

ND  this  is  growing  to  be  such  a  great  age  for  swearing  and 
rushing  into  law  courts,  it  may  be  well  for  all  to  know  what 
an  oath  is,  and  what  the  conditions  are  for  taking  a  lawful 
oath.  By  an  oath  is  meant  calling  God  to  witness  the  truth  of 
what  we  assert,  or  to  witness  our  sincerity  in  what  we  promise.  An  oath 
is  a  sacred  method  for  ascertaining  the  truth,  and  thereby  putting  an  end 
to  disputes :  "  For  men  swear  by  one  greater  than  themselves :  and  an 
oath  for  confirmation  is  the  end  of  all  their  controversy"  (Heb.  vi.  i6). 

Oaths  were  introduced  not  at  the  commencement  of  the  world,  but 
long  after,  when  the  people  gave  themselves  up  to  vice  and  disorder  and 
confusion  and  lies  of  every  kind.  And  when  no  man  could  any  longer 
believe  the  simple  word  of  his  fellow-man,  then  it  was  that  oaths  were 
instituted,  and  God  was  invoked  as  a  witness.  The  Wickliffites,  Quakers, 
and  other  dissenters,  wrongly  condemn  the  use  of  oaths  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. Our  Lord  Himself,  the  angels,  St.  Paul,  etc.,  made  use 
of  oaths.  The  Council  of  Trent  says,  with  regard  to  an  oath,  "  although 
in  itself  good,  its  frequent  use,  like  medicine,  is  by  no  means  to  be  com- 
mended— *  its  frequent  use  is  pernicious.'  " 

There  are  three  conditions  required  to  make  an  oath  lawful — truth, 
judgment,  and  justice.  "Thou  shalt  swear,"  says  the  Prophet  Jeremias 
(iv.  2),  "as  the  Lord  liveth,  in  truth,  in  judgment,  and  in  justice."  He 
who  takes  an  oath  must  believe  what  he  swears  is  the  truth,  and  must 
believe  it  upon  solid  grounds.  Does  the  man  who  takes  a  false  oath 
think  that  God  is  ignorant  and  cannot  know  the  truth,  or  that  He  will 
stand  as  a  witness  to  confirm  the  falsehood  and  put  His  seal  upon  it?  An 
oath  is  taken  injustice  when  that  which  is  promised  on  oath  is  right  and 
lawful  and  just.  To  have  an  oath  taken  in  judgmoit,  we  must  first  care- 
fully and  duly  weigh  all  the  circumstances ;  and  be  fully  convinced  that 
the  whole  matter  is  so  clear  as  to  permit  an  oath,  and  of  such  importance 
as  to  require  one  ;  and,  furthermore,  that  the  case  cannot  be  settled  other- 
wise than  with  an  oath.  It  is  then,  and  only  then,  that  an  oath  is  said 
to  be  taken  in  judgment. 
(452) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  453 

An  oath  wanting  any  one  of  these  three  conditions — truth,  justice,  and 
judgment — is  not  a  lawful  oath.  Hence,  St.  Cornelius,  Pontiff,  decreed 
that  an  oath  should  not  be  exacted  from  children  before  puberty ;  that 
is,  before  they  should  have  attained  their  twelfth  or  fourteenth  year. 
For,  up  to  that  age,  they  are  not  able  to  know  when  exactly  the  circum- 
stances of  a  case  will  make  it  lawful  for  them  to  take  an  oath  in  judgment . 

We  commit  the  sin  of  perjury  if  we  take  an  oath  which  we  know  or 
think  to  be  false,  or  even  doubt  as  to  whether  it  be  true  or  false.  We 
commit  the  sin  of  perjury  also,  if,  without  a  just  cause,  we  refuse  to 
fulfil  what  we  have  promised  on  oath. 

It  is  sinful  to  take  an  unjust  oath,  that  is,  an  oath  injurious  to  God, 
to  ourselves,  or  to  our  neighbors  ;  and  it  is  more  sinful  still  to  keep  such 
an  oath.  Herod  thus  sinned  when  he  bound  himself  by  oath  to  give  the 
daughter  of  Herodias  whatsoever  she  should  ask ;  for,  how  could  he  know 
what  unjust  or  unreasonable  thing  she  might  ask?  And  he  sinned  again, 
and  far  more  grievously,  when  he  kept  his  rash  and  unjust  oath,  and 
ordered  the  head  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  to  be  cut  off  and  brought  in  a 
dish,  as  it  was,  to  the  damsel,  in  presence  of  all  who  were  at  supper  with 
him — the  princes  and  tribunes  and  chief  men  of  Galilee !  (St.  Mark  vi.). 

So  outrageously  offensive  to  God  is  the  sin  of  perjury,  whereby  God 
is  offered  as  a  voucher  for  an  untruth,  that  He  distinctly  says  He  will 
send  His  curse  to  the  house  of  him  that  takes  a  false  oath.  The  Prophet 
Zachary,  in  his  description  of  the  "  flying  volume,"  says  :  "  This  is  the  curse 

that   goeth  forth  over  the  face  of  the  earth And  it  shall  come 

to  the  house  of  the  thief,  and  to  the  house  of  him  that  stveareth  falsely 
by  my  name :  and  it  shall  remain  in  the  midst  of  his  house,  and  shall 
consume  it,  with  the  timber  thereof,  and  the  stones  thereof "  (Zach.  v. 
2,  etc.). 

The  Church,  speaking  through  Innocent  XI.,  has  declared  that,  to  call 
God  to  witness  even  a  small  or  a  trivial  lie,  which  does  no  injury  to  our 
neighbor,  is  a  most  heinous  mortal  sin,  and  that  it  deserves  the  everlast- 
ing flames  of  hell ! 

The  Jews  wrongfully  thought  that  falsehood  was  the  only  thing  to  be 
provided  against  in  the  taking  of  oaths,  and  that  an  oath  might  be  taken 
about  the  most  trifling  and  unimportant  matters.  And  so,  like  many  of 
the  present  day,  they  foolishly  thought  that  they  could,  without  sin, 
bring  others  into  court  and  exact  oaths  from  them  on  the  most  trifling 
matters,  or  in  cases  that  could  be  settled  outside  a  court  without  an  oath 
at  all. 

The  Second  Commandment  of  God  strictly  forbids  all  false,  rash, 
unjust,  and  unnecessary  oaths.  Our  Lord  Himself  is  quite  emphatic  on 
this  point.     He  says :  "  You  have  heard  that  it  was  said  to  them  of  old, 


454  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

'Thou  shalt  not  forswear  thyself;  but  thou  shalt  perform  thy  oaths  to 
the  Lord.'  But  I  say  to  you,  not  to  swear  at  all,  neither  by  heaven,  for 
it  is  the  throne  of  God  :  nor  by  the  earth,  for  it  is  His  footstool :  nor  by 
Jerusalem,  for  it  is  the  city  of  the  great  king :  neither  shalt  thou  swear 
by  thy  head,  because  thou  canst  not  make  one  hair  white  or  black.  But 
let  your  speech  be  yea,  yea ;  no,  no :  and  that  which  is  over  and  above 
these,  is  of  evil "  (Matt.  v.  33,  etc.).  Whatever  assertion  is  made  "  over 
and  above  yea,  yea  ;  no,  no,"  that  is  without  necessity  and  upon  oath,  "  is 
of  evil."  "  A  man  that  sweareth  much  shall  be  filled  with  iniquity " 
(Ecclus.  xxiii.  12). 

Our  Lord  does  not  by  any  means  forbid  the  taking  of  oaths  univer- 
sally, under  any  circumstances.  On  the  contrary,  He  Himself  encourages 
oaths,  when  there  is  sufficient  reason.  "  Thou  shalt  fear  the  Lord  thy 
God,  and  shalt  serve  Him  only,  and  thou  shalt  swear  by  His  name" 
(Deut.  vi.  13).  "The  king  shall  rejoice  in  God,  all  they  shall  be  praised^ 
that  swear  by  Him ;  because  the  mouth  is  stopped  of  them  that  speak 
wicked  things"  (Ps.  Ixii.  12). 

The  Council  of  Trent  teaches :  "  The  Lord  wished  to  reprove  the 
perverse  opinion  of  the  Jews,  by  which  they  had  been  led  to  suppose 
that  nothing  was  to  be  provided  against  in  the  taking  of  an  oath  but 
falsehood.  Hence,  even  on  the  most  trivial  and  unimportant  matters, 
they  themselves  very  often  swore,  and  exacted  an  oath  from  others. 
This  practice  the  Redeemer  reprehends  and  reprobates,  and  teaches  that, 
unless  necessity  imperatively  demands  it,  an  oath  must  be  entirely  abstained 
from  "  (Cat.,  Part  iii.,  chap.  3). 

Of  course,  the  taking  of  an  oath  is  quite  lawful,  whenever  there  is  a 
just  and  weighty  cause  :  whenever  God's  honor,  our  own  or  our  neighbor's 
good  or  necessary  defense,  or  any  other  just  cause  may  require  it.  To 
take  an  oath  about  every  trifling  matter  is  strictly  forbidden,  as  it  is 
taking  the  name  of  the  Lord  God  in  vain.  It  is  not  treating  God  with 
due  reverence  to  call  Him  down  from  heaven  to  witness  every  little  occur- 
rence. False  and  rash  oaths  are  seldom  free  from  scandal  and  perjury. 
"  Thou  shalt  not  swear  falsely  by  my  name,  nor  profane  the  name  of  thy 
God"  (Lev.  xix.  12).  "Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy 
God  in  vain  ;  for  he  shall  not  be  unpunished  that  taketh  His  name  upon 
a  vain  thing "  (Deut.  v.  1 1).  We  cannot  expect  to  enter  heaven  unless 
we  keep  the  commandments;  and  one  of  them  is:  "Thou  shalt  not  take 
the  name  of  the  Lord  in  vain." 

God  does  not  delight  in  the  punishment  or  perdition  of  any  one,  and 
yet,  so  jealous  is  He  of  the  honor  of  His  name,  that  He  threatens  to  let 
no  man  go  "  ««punished  "  that  takes  it  in  vain.  Perhaps  the  various 
chastisements  which  we,  my  brethren,  receive  every  day,  come  to  us  from 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  455 

God  on  account  of  our  sins  of  irreverence  for  the  Divine  name.  Desir- 
ous of  our  salvation,  and  knowing  our  proclivity  to  the  commission  of 
this  sin  of  irreverence,  and  the  special  enormity  of  the  sin,  God  in  His 
mercy  has  employed  special  threats  to  put  us  on  our  guard,  and  to  pre- 
vent us  from  falling  into  it.  The  pastor,  therefore,  having  the  responsi- 
ble charge  of  souls,  could  not  make  use  of  language  too  clear  or  too 
strong,  in  urging  upon  the  faithful  their  duty  of  paying  all  possible  rever- 
ence to  the  name  of  God. 

My  brethren,  do  you  ever  think  that  one  or  many  of  the  personal 
quarrels  between  any  two  parties  in  a  parish  could  be  settled  without 
having  them  summoned  and  brought  into  a  public  court-house,  and  have 
God  also  brought  down  as  a  witness  ?  Is  the  fine  old  Catholic  custom, 
still  existing  in  some  parishes,  of  getting  disputes  settled  by  one  or  more 
priests,  to  be  commended  ?  A  true  priest,  living  in  the  district  and  under- 
standing the  circumstances,  is  sure  to  give  justice  and  fair  play  at  both 
sides ;  and  what  more  is  wanted  ?  Is  it  to  give  edification  to  heretics 
and  unbelievers? 

"  Dare  any  of  you,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  having  a  matter  against  another, 
go  to  be  judged,  before  the  unjust,  and  not  before  the  saints  ?  Know 
you  not  that  the  saints  shall  judge  this  world  ?  And  if  the  world  shall 
be  judged  by  you:  are  you  unworthy  to  judge  the  smallest  matters? 
Know  you  not  that  we  shall  judge  angels?  how  much  more  things  of  this 
world.  If,  therefore,  you  have  judgments  of  things  pertaining  to  this 
world,  set  them  to  judge  who  are  most  despised  in  the  Church.  I  speak 
to  your  shame.  Is  it  so  that  there  is  not  among  you  any  one  wise  man, 
that  is  able  to  judge  between  his  brethren  ?  But  brother  goeth  to  law  with 
his  brother ;  and  that  before  unbelievers.  Already  indeed  there  is  plainly 
a  fault  among  you,  that  you  have  lawsuits  one  with  another.  Why  do 
you  not  rather  take  wrong?  Why  do  you  not  rather  suffer  yourselves  to 
be  defrauded?  "  (i  Cor.  vi.  i,  etc.). 

From  time  immemorial,  as  recently  throughout  the  days  of  the  Na- 
tional League,  in  this  country  especially,  whenever  a  dispute  arose,  it 
was  referred  to  the  priest,  and  left  to  his  decision  and  settlement.  Why, 
then,  do  you  take  the  matter  out  of  his  hands,  and  run  into  a  court-house 
with  it  ?  Is  it  to  carry  out  the  injunctions  of  St.  Paul  ?  Is  it  to  make 
little  of  the  priest  ?  Is  it  to  give  way  to  personal  resentment  ?  Is  it  to 
perpetuate  hostilities  ?  or,  is  it  to  ruin  an  opponent,  and  to  blot  out  a 
parishioner  ?  When  the  priest  makes  peace,  he  does  make  it ;  and  does 
so  without  putting  God  to  the  trouble  of  being  used  as  a  witness,  or  His 
name  taken  in  vain.  The  judge  never  makes  peace ;  attorneys  seldom 
bring  profit  to  any  one  but  themselves ;  the  "  peacemakers "  do  bring 
peace ;  for  God  "  blesses  "  their  work.     Unnecessary  law  is  a  withering 


456 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


plague  in  a  parish ;  it  is  a  disgraceful  work ;  it  gives  scandal  and  bad  ex- 
ample ;  it  does  away  with  all  Christian  forgiveness.  The  witnesses  at 
each  side  will  say  that  those  against  them  perjured  themselves.  This  will 
cause  serious  rash  judgments  through  the  parish ;  and  this,  in  turn,  will 
injure  many  souls  mortally,  and  open  up  springs  of  sin  and  of  scandal  over 
which  angels  may  weep. 

A  priest,  even  the  humblest  in  the  Church,  is  able  to  settle  the  great- 
est differences  between  man  and  God:  ought  he  not,  therefore,  be  able 
to  settle  a  little  difference  or  dispute  between  man  and  a  fellow-man  ? 

My  brethren,  let  us  thank  Almighty  God  for  having  given  us  permis- 
sion to  call  upon  Him  as  our  witness  when  we  take  an  oath.  And,  above 
all  things,  let  us  take  special  care  not  to  tamper  in  any  way  with  an  oath, 
or  to  fail  in  keeping  a  lawful  oath  when  once  we  have  taken  it.  "  And 
thou  shalt  swear:  As  the  Lord  liveth,  in  truth,  and. in  judgment,  and  in 
justice  "  (Jer.  iv.  2).     Amen. 


THE  HOLY   SACRIFICE  OF  THE  MASS. 

''Christ  also  hath  loved  us,  and  hath  delivered  Himself  for  us,  an  oblation  and  a 
sacrifice  to  God  for  an  odor  of  sweetness.'' — Ephes.  v.  2. 

HE  Catholic  Church,  my  brethren,  speaking  through  the  Coun- 
cil of  Trent,  as  through  a  mouth-piece,  commands  her  preachers, 
and  all  others  having  the  care  of  souls,  to  explain  the  Holy- 
Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  to  their  people  carefully  and  frequently. 
Our  good  Mother,  the  Churchy  has  made  this  law,  my  dear  Christians,  to 
the  end  that  we  may  all  know  what  a  great  treasure  God  has  left  to  us 
in  this  sublime  Sacrifice  of  the  Altar,  and  what  great  advantages  we  may 
derive  from  a  faithful  and  devout  attendance  thereat.  The  same  sweet 
love  for  men  which  pressed  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  first  instance, 
to  institute  this  adorable  Sacrifice  of  the  New  Law,  presses  Him,  also, 
to  desire  that  its  transcendent  nature  and  effects  should  be  made  known 
to  the  whole  world  as  fully  and  as  clearly  as  possible.  The  Sacrifice  of 
the  Mass  is  by  far  the  richest  treasure  which  Christ  has  left  to  His  Church. 
Yet,  my  brethren,  there  are  many  persons  who  treat  it  with  indifference, 
and  take  little  or  no  pains  to  rightly  understand  its  value,  or  the  mani- 
fold graces  and  blessings  which  it  contains.  Strange  to  say,  while  the 
great  mass  of  Catholics  frequently  meditate  upon  the  infinite  love  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  instituting  the  Blessed  Eucharist  as  a  Sacrament,  compara- 
tively few  ever  reflect  upon  His  equally  infinite  love  in  instituting  it,  also 
as  a  Sacrifice. 

By  sacrifice  is  meant :  the  external  offering  to  God  alone,  of  some 
sensible  or  visible  thing,  made  by  a  priest,  or  lawful  minister ;  the  partial 
destruction  or  total  annihilation  of  the  victim  being  the  acknowledgment 
of  Almighty  God's  supreme  dominion  over  us,  and  our  total  dependence 
on  Him.  Christian  sacrifice  cannot  be  offered  to  any  one  but  to  God 
alone. 

The  strongest  instincts  of  nature,  my  brethren,  prompt  us  to  offer 
sacrifice  to  the  Deity  as  an  essential  and  acceptable  act  of  religion. 
Hence,  from  the  commencement  of  the  world,  all  nations,  even  the  most 
barbarous  and  illiterate,  have  offered  sacrifice  of  one  kind  or  another  to 
the  divinities  they  worshipped.  In  the  Old  Law  sacrifices  of  divers  kinds 
were  frequently  offered  to  God. 

(457) 


458  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Abel  offered  sacrifice  of  "the  firstlings  of  his  flock"  (Gen.  iv.); 
Noah  "  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord:  and  taking  of  all  cattle  and  fowls  that 
were  clean,  offered  holocausts  upon  the  altar  "  (Gen.  vii.) ;  Melchisedech, 
"  bringing  forth  bread  and  wine,"  offered  them  in  sacrifice,  for  he  was 
*'  the  priest  of  the  Most  High "  (Gen.  xiv.) ;  Abraham  "  came  to  the 
place  which  God  had  shown  him,  where  he  built  an  altar,  and  laid  the 
wood  in  order  upon  it :  and  when  he  had  bound  Isaac  his  son,  he  laid  him 
on  the  altar,  upon  the  pile  of  wood,  and  he  put  forth  his  hand,  and  took 
the  sword,  to  sacrifice  his  son.  And,  behold,  an  Angel  of  the  Lord  from 
heaven  called  to  him,  saying :  Abraham,  Abraham,  ....  Lay  not  thy 
hand  upon  the  boy,  neither  do  thou  anything  to  him ;  now  I  know  that 
thou  fearest  God,  and  hast  not  spared  thy  only-begotten  son  for  my  sake. 
Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  behind  his  back  a  ram  amongst  the 
briers,  sticking  fast  by  the  horns,  which  he  took  and  offered  for  a  holo- 
caust instead  of  his  son  "  (Gen,  xxii.).  Elias,  too,  built  an  altar  to  the 
name  of  the  Lord  .  .  .  .  "  and  laid  the  wood  in  order,  and  cut  the  bul- 
lock in  pieces,  and  laid  it  upon  the  wood And  when  it  was  now 

time  to  offer  the  holocaust,  Elias,  the  prophet,  came  near,  and  said :  O 
Lord,  God  of  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Israel,  show  this  day  that  Thou 
art  the  God  of  Israel,  and  I  Thy  servant :  and  that  according  to  Thy  com- 
mandments  I    have   done   all   these   things And   when   all    the 

people  saw  this,  they  fell  on  their  faces,  and  said:  The  Lord  He  is  God, 
the  Lord  He  is  God"  (3  Kings  xviii.) 

The  sacrifices  of  the  Old  Law  were,  some  of  them,  bloody ;  others 
unbloody.  The  bloody  sacrifices  consisted  chiefly  of  lambs,  oxen,  and 
goats.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  our  Lord's  presentation,  the  victims 
were  birds:  "They  carried  him  to  Jerusalem  tp  present  him  to  the  Lord. 
....  And  to  offer  sacrifice,  according  as  it  is  written  in  the  Law  of  the 
Lord,  a  pair  of  turtle-doves  or  two  young  pigeons  "  (Luke  ii.  22-24). 
The  unbloody  sacrifices  were  mainly  of  flour,  and  wine,  and  oil,  etc. 
These  ancient  sacrifices,  though  offered  up  by  the  hands  of  the  holy 
Patriarchs,  had  no  intrinsic  value  of  their  own.  They  were  but  poor 
and  weak  elements,  quite  incapable  of  cancelling  sin,  quite  incapable  of 
conferring  God's  grace  upon  those  who  offered  them,  or  upon  those  for 
whom  they  were  offered.  "For  it  is  impossible,"  says  St.  Paul,  "that 
with  the  blood  of  oxen  and  goats,  sins  should  be  taken  away  "  (Heb.  x. 
4).  Those  sacrifices  were  but  mere  types  and  figures  of  the  true  Sacrifice 
yet  to  come — that  is,  of  the  holy  Mass — and  it  was  only  as  such,  that 
they  were  in  any  sense  acceptable  to  God.  Compared  with  the  Sacrifice 
of  the  Mass,  they  were  but  as  vague  shadows,  compared  to  the  solid 
substance. 

II.     But,  at  length,  the  shadows  and  symbols  have  given  place  to  the 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  459 

sublime  reality.  Moved  by  an  incomparable  love  for  fallen  man,  the 
eternal  Word  of  God  descended  from  heaven,  was  made  fiesh,  and  dwelt 
amongst  ns :  He  came  to  offer  Himself  in  sacrifice  for  our  redemption. 
And,  in  that  eventful  hour,  all  the  ancient  sacrifices  were  forever  abol- 
ished. In  view  of  that  divine  Victim,  they  became  displeasing  (rather 
than  pleasing)  to  God  ;  the  only  sacrifice  He  would  consent  to  accept  as 
worthy  of  Him  was  that  of  His  Eternal  Son.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
speaking  to  His  Heavenly  Father  on  this  subject,  says:  "Sacrifices  and 
oblations,  and  holocausts  for  sin  Thou  wouldst  not,  neither  are  they  pleas- 
ing to  Thee  which  are  offered  according  to  the  (Old)  Law.  Then,  said  I : 
Behold,  I  come  to  do  Thy  Will,  O  God."  According  to  these  words, 
St.  Paul  says :  "  Christ  taketh  away  the  first  (or  ancient  sacrifices)  that  He 
may  establish  that  which  followeth  (that  is,  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass). 
By  the  which  will,  we  are  sanctified  by  the  oblation  of  the  body  of  Jesus 
Christ"  (Heb.  x.  8-1 1). 

The  Mass,  my  beloved  brethren,  is  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  are  really  present  upon  our  altars  under  the 
appearance  of  bread  and  wine,  and  are  offered  to  God  by  the  priest  for 
the  living  and  the  dead. 

This  sublime  oblation  is  no  new  sacrifice  in  the  Catholic  Church.  The 
testimony  of  the  holy  Fathers,  the  sacred  archives  of  antiquity,  furnish 
abundant  records  and  proofs  of  its  existence  in  the  Church,  since  the  days 
of  Christ  and  His  Apostles.  Nor,  indeed,  for  more  than  fifteen  hundred 
years,  was  there  found  one  bold  or  bad  enough  to  deny  it,  until  Martin 
Luther,  of  dismal  and  execrable  memory,  raised  his  heretical  voice 
against  it  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  thus  deprived  himself,  and  millions 
besides,  of  the  many  graces  purchased  for  them  by  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
cross,  and  made  applicable  to  them  by  Christ  through  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Mass. 

The  latter  was  clearly  foretold  by  the  Prophet  Malachy,  when  he  de- 
clares to  the  Jews,  as  the  mouth-piece  of  the  Most  High  (i,  x.  11):  "I 
have  no  pleasure  in  you,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  I  will  not  receive  a  gift 
of  your  hand.  For,  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  even  to  the  going  down, 
my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles,  and  in  every  place  there  is  sacri- 
fice, and  there  is  offered  to  my  name  a  clean  oblation."  From  this  pas- 
sage, my  dear  Christians,  we  see  that,  from  the  period  of  our  Lord's 
Crucifixion,  the  sacrifices  of  the  Jews  were  rejected ;  that  a  clean  oblation 
was  instituted  in  their  stead ;  and  that  this  clean  oblation  was  offered  to 
His  name  among  the  Gentiles  throughout  the  whole  world,  from  the  rising 
of  the  sun  to  the  going  down  thereof.  This,  we  know  for  a  certianty,  since 
the  words  of  the  Prophet  apply  with  striking  force  and  exactness  to  the 
holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  and  not  to  any  other  sacrifice  on  the  face  of 


460  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  earth  ;  not  to  the  sacrifices  of  the  Jews,  for  God  expressly  declares, 
through  Malachy,  that  He  would  not  receive  a  gift  from  their  hands ;  nor 
to  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross,  for  that  \vas  offered  up  in  only  one  place,  and 
not  "  in  every  placed  In  a  word,  the  Prophet's  description  does  not  cor- 
respond with  any  sacrifice  but  the  adorable  Sacrifice  of  our  altars,  which 
is  verily  "  a  clean  oblation,  offered  up  in  every  place,  from  the  rising  of 
the  sun  to  the  going  down  of  the  same."  Again,  my  brethren,  the  royal 
Psalmist  calls  Jesus  Christ  a  priest  forever,  according  to  the  order  of 
Melchisedech.  Now,  you  must  understand  that  Melchisedech  was  a 
mysterious  priest  and  king  of  the  Old  Law,  who  offered  sacrifice  to  God, 
only  under  the  form  of  bread  and  wine. 

"  If,  then,  perfection  was  by  the  Levitical  priesthood,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"  (for  under  it  the  people  received  the  law),  what  further  need  was  there 
that  another  priest  should  rise  according  to  the  order  of  Melchisedech, 
and  not  be  called  according  to  the  order  of  Aaron  ?  .  .  .  .  For  he,  of 
of  whom  these  things  are  spoken,  is  of  another  tribe,  of  which  no  one 
attendeth  at  the  altar.  For  it  is  evident,  that  cur  Lord  sprung  out  of 
Juda,  in  which  tribe  Moses  spoke  nothing  concerning  priests.  And  it  is, 
yet,  far  more  evident  if,  according  to  the  similitude  of  Melchisedech, 
there  ariseth  another  priest,  who  is  made,  not  according  to  a  carnal  com- 
mandment, but  according  to  the  power  of  an  indissoluble  life  ;  for  he  testi- 
fieth  :  Thou  are  a  priest  forever  according  to  the  order  of  Melchisedech" 
(Heb.  vii.  11-18).  The  application  of  this  passage  to  the  Holy  Sacrifice 
of  the  Mass  is  so  obvious,  my  brethren,  that  it  scarcely  needs  a  word  of 
further  comment ;  for,  in  the  Mass,  Christ  shall  invisibly  be  offered  up 
in  the  ^zcn^zo.  forever ;  and  shall,  furthermore,  invariably  offer  Himself 
to  the  Eternal  Father,  therein,  according  to  the  order  of  Melchisedech, 
that  is,  under  the  form  of  bread  and  wine  (Ps.  xix.  9).  But,  let  us  even 
suppose  that  there  were  no  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  and  that  (as  some  non- 
Catholics  maintain)  the  Psalmist  referred  in  his  remarkable  prophecy 
exclusively  to  our  Lord's  Sacrifice  upon  the  Cross,  do  you  not  see  that 
Christ  could  not  be  rigidly  called  ''  a  priest  forever  "  upon  Mount  Calvary, 
inasmuch  as  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross  was  offered  by  Him  ov\y  once,  and 
in  one  place?  Do  you  not  see,  also,  that  He  could  not  there  .be  declared 
"a  priest  forever,  according  to  the  order  of  Melchisedech"  inasmuch  as 
the  Sacrifice  of  Mount  Calvary  was  not  offered  according  to  the  order  of 
Melchisedech  at  all,  not  offered  under  the  form  of  bread  and  wine,  but 
according  to  the  order  of  Aaron,  that  is,  in  a  bloody  manner? 

In  the  New  Testament,  too,  we  find  clear  and  abundant  proofs  of  the 
Catholic  doctrine,  respecting  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass.  St.  Matthew 
(xxvi.  26),  describing  the  Last  Supper,  states  that  Jesus  Christ  "  took 
bread,  and  blessed,  and  broke,  and  gave  it  to  His  disciples:  and  said: 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  461 

Take  ye  and  eat:  this  is  my  body.  And  taking  the  chalice,  He  gave 
thanks,  and  gave  to  them,  saying:  Drink  ye  all  of  this,  for  this  is  my 
blood !  "  Here,  we  see,  dear  brethren,  that  Jesus  offered  Himself  in  sacri- 
fice; His  blood  was  represented  as  separated  from  His  body.  Thus,  it 
was  mystically  shed,  though  not  actually  shed,  for  the  actual  blood-shed- 
ding took  place  afterward,  when  He  expired  on  the  Cross.  This  change 
in  the  victim — namely,  the  body  represented  under  one  form,  and  the 
blood  under  another,  and  both  thus  apparently  separated,  one  from  the 
other,  shows  forth  most  strikingly  the  death  of  our  Saviour:  "the  Lamb 
is,  as  it  were,  slain  "  (Apoc.  v.  6).  This  same  Sacramental  separation, 
namely,  the  Body  of  Christ,  under  the  form  of  bread,  and  the  Blood, 
under  the  form  of  wine,  may  be  rightly  said  to  constitute  a  sacrifice,  and, 
in  reality,  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass ;  or,  in  other  words,  it  is  the  Sacrifice 
of  the  Cross  is  an  «/zbloody  form,  together  with  the  real  infinite  merits  of 
the  same,  applied  according  to  the  intention  of  the  person  who  offers  it. 
By  giving  us  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  Jesus  Christ  has  lovingly  put  into 
our  hands  the  golden  master-key  by  which  to  possess  ourselves  of  the 
infinite  merits  which  He  purchased  for  us  by  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross,  and 
which  He  has  left  carefully  locked  up  therein  (as  in  a  divine  treasure- 
house),  for  our  use  and  benefit.  Hence  the  Mass  is  the  real  application 
of  the  fruits  of  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross,  as  well  as  the  ««bloody  repeti- 
tion of  that  same  sacrifice.  "  We,  therefore,  confess,"  says  the  Council  of 
Trent,  "  that  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  is,  and  ought  to  be,  considered  one 
and  the  same  as  that  of  the  Cross,  as  the  victim  is  one  and  the  same, 
namely,  Christ  our  Lord,  who  immolated  Himself,  once  only,  after  a 
bloody  manner,  on  the  altar  of  the  Cross.  For  the  bloody  and  unbloody 
Victim  are  not  two  victims,  but  one  only,  whose  sacrifice  is  daily  renewed 
in  the  Eucharist,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of  the  Lord:  'Do  this 
for  a  commemoration  of  me'  (Luke  xxii.  19)."  [Cat.  of  the  Council  of 
Trent.] 

In  every  Mass  of  our  altars,  dear  brethren,  the  same  Christ  is,  there- 
fore, contained  and  immolated  in  an  unbloody  manner,  who  once  offered 
Himself  in  a  bloody  manner  on  the  altar  of  the  Cross.  For  the  Victim  is 
one  and  the  same,  now  offering  Himself  by  the  ministry  of  His  priests 
(C.  of  Trent).  You  see,  then,  that  it  was  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  who 
offered  up  the  first  Mass,  on  the  eve  of  His  bitter  Passion  and  Death; 
and  it  is  He,  also,  who  offers  up  every  Mass ;  for  the  priest  who  out- 
wardly offers  it  is  only  the  visible  minister  of  Christ;  Christ  Himself,  is 
the  Invisible  Priest  and  Victim.  Wherefore,  the  Mass  is  the  original, 
the  self-same  Sacrifice  as  that  of  the  Cross,  only  differing  from  the  latter 
in  the  manner  of  its  oblation. 

When  our  Divine  Lord  had  celebrated  His  First  Mass  at  His  Last 


462 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


Supper  He  gave  power  and  command  to  His  twelve  Apostles,  present 
with  Him  on  that  occasion,  and  to  ail  their  lawful  successors — that  is, 
the  priests  of  the  Catholic  Church,  to  offer  up  the  same  sublime  Sacrifice 
until  the  end  of  the  world.  "Do  this,"  said  He,  "for a  commemoration 
of  me  "(Luke  xxii.  19).  Hence  it  is,  that  in  the  Mass,  the  priests  take 
bread  and  wine,  and  by  virtue  of  the  power  of  Christ,  given  unto  them  at 
their  ordination,  they  change  the  whole  substance  of  the  bread  into  the 
Body  of  Christ,  and  the  whole  substance  of  the  wine  into  His  Blood; 
and  no  part  or  atom  of  either  substance  remains  (Con.  of  Trent ;  Sess.  xiji. 
2).  The  species,  however,  of  both  the  bread  and  wine  remain  unchanged ; 
and  this  is  ordained  by  our  Lord  not  only  to  exercise  our  faith,  but  also 
in  order  to  veil  the  dazzling  splendors  of  His  Divinity,  which  no  mortal 
man  can  see  and  live.  In  every  Mass,  the  priest  acts  in  the  name  of 
Christ,  and  uses  the  words  of  Christ.  Hence  the  words  used  at  the 
moment  of  Transubstantiation,  are :  "  This  is  my  Body — this  is  my 
Blood."  And  whilst  the  priest  thus  outwardly  ofifers  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Mass,  it  is  Christ  Himself  who  really  and  invisibly  offers  it  through  His 
chosen  minister.  Jesus  Christ  then  is  (as  we  have  already  said)  both 
Priest  and  Victim  in  this  "clean  oblation,"  foretold  by  the  Prophet 
Malachy,  and  the  same  He  shall  continue  to  be  in  each  and  every  Mass 
that  is  or  will  be  offered  until  the  end  of  the  world. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  how  shall  we  return  due  praise  to  God  for  thus 
deigning  to  become  incarnate,  day  by  day,  in  the  hands  of  His  priests,  as 
He  did  once  in  the  chaste  womb  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary !  How 
grateful  we  ought  to  be  for  having  the  Mass  celebrated  in  every  land  all 
the  world  over.     Wherever  we  go,  we  find  ourselves  at  home. 


ON   THE   ENDS   FOR  WHICH   MASS   IS   OFFERED. 

"  Do  this  for  a  commemoration  of  me." — Luke  xxii.  19. 

HE  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  my  beloved  brethren,  is  offered  up 
for  four  great  ends : 

I.  To  give  fitting,  or,  in  other  words,  infinite  praise  and 
honor  to  Almighty  God. 

{a)  The  natural  law,  written  in  the  heart  of  man,  directs  that  every 
inferior  should  pay  homage  to  his  superior;  and,  futhermore,  that  this 
homage  should  be  always  in  proportion  to  the  rank  and  dignity  of  the 
superior.  Now,  this  being  the  case,  we  should  pay  to  Almighty  God,  as 
the  Supreme  Creator  and  Ruler  of  the  universe,  as  our  first  Beginning 
and  our  last  End,  infinite  praise,  infinite  honor.  Anything  short  of  the 
infinite  would  not  be  sufficient,  nor  would  it  be  adequately  worthy  of  His 
acceptance.  But,  since  all  our  human  offerings,  all  our  human  acts,  are, 
like  ourselves,  finite,  how  can  we  offer  any  infinite  gift  to  our  good  and 
merciful  God? 

If  all  the  creatures  of  this  world,  no  matter  how  rich,  or  beautiful,  or 
delightful  they  might  be  in  themselves,  were  brought  to  the  feet  of  Al- 
mighty God,  and  laid  there  as  an  offering,  they  would  not  be  worthy  His 
acceptance ;  for  there  is  nothing  worthy  of  God's  acceptance  except  God 
Himself.  Jesus  Christ,  then,  seeing  this  great  want  on  the  part  of  man, 
has,  in  a  marvellous  excess  of  divine  love,  supplied  it  by  offering  I/im- 
self,  a  God  of  infinite  worth,  to  His  Eternal  Father  in  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Mass.  In  that  Holy  Sacrifice,  dear  Christians,  we  can  give  infinite  praise 
and  honor  to  God,  by  uniting  ourselves  to  the  offering  made  to  Him  on 
our  altars  by  the  consecrated  hands  of  His  priest.  Nay,  more,  by  every 
Mass  that  we  offer,  or  get  the  priest  to  offer  for  us,  by  every  Mass  at 
which  we  assist,  we  can  co-operate  in  the  great  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
our  behalf ;  for,  thereby  discharging  our  first  and  chief  duty  to  God,  we 
acknowledge  our  total  dependence  on  Him,  and  return  Him  fitting  praise 
and  honor.  The  accumulated  worship  of  the  Saints  and  Angels  in  Para- 
dise, of  the  Archangels,  the  Seraphim,  the  Thrones,  the  Dominations, 
and  the  Powers,  is  unspeakingly  grand  and  pleasing  to  Almighty  God; 
but  it  is,  as  it  were,  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  praise  and  honor 
given  to  Him  by  a  single  Mass  celebrated  by  a  poor,  obscure  priest  in 

(463) 


464  •  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

some  hidden  corner  of  this  lower  world.  For  the  praise  of  all  those 
celestial  beings,  great  though  it  be,  is  only  finite,  whereas  the  praise  given 
by  a  Mass  is  infinite  ! 

{b)  The  second  great  end  for  which  we  offer  up  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Mass,  is  to  make  infinite  satisfaction  to  God  for  the  sins  of  His  creatures. 

Happily,  my  beloved  brethren,  we  can  all  make  sufficient  satisfaction 
to  God  for  our  sins  by  this  sublime  Sacrifice  of  the  altar ;  and  by  this 
Sacrifice  alone.  For,  as  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross  satisfied  the  Divine 
Justice  for  the  sins  of  the  world,  so  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  and  it 
alone,  satisfies  for  the  sins  of  those  who  offer  it,  or  cause  it  to  be  offered. 
And  this  it  does,  by  applying  to  each  of  our  needy  souls  the  infinite 
merits  purchased  by  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross  for  mankind  in  general. 
But  here  it  must  be  carefully  understood  that  the  Mass  does  not  satisfy 
for  our  mortal  sins  immediately  ;  it  does  not  immediately  ca.x\.z€i  such  sins, 
as  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  does,  when  properly  received.  It  cancels 
them  only  mediately,  that  is,  it  gives  us  actual  graces  and  helps,  whereby 
our  souls  may  be  freed  from  their  guilt  at  an  early  and  convenient  time. 
And  thus,  by  the  Sacrifice  of  the  altar,  dear  Christians,  the  graces  and 
merits,  purchased  by  our  Lord  on  Calvary  for  mankind  in  general,  are 
communicated  to  the  individual  souls  for  whom  the  Mass  is  offered. 

Who,  then,  can  estimate  the  value  or  importance  of  having  Masses 
offered  for  your  intention,  or  in  behalf  of  the  sinner  ?  Who  can  enumer- 
ate the  benefits  to  be  derived  from  frequent  assistance  at  this  adorable 
Sacrifice,  offering  it  up  with  the  intent-ions  of  the  priest  ?  Who  can  ade- 
quately describe  the  consoling  clemency  which  God  extends  to  us  on  ac- 
count of  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  !  "  The  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass," 
says  St.  Leonard  of  Port  Maurice,  "  is  the  true  and  sole  reason  of  such 
stupendous  clemency,  for  in  it  we  offer  to  the  Eternal  Father  the  Great 
Victim,  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the  sun  of  our  Holy  Church,  which  dissi- 
pates the  clouds  and  restores  serenity  to  the  heavens.  This,  indeed,  is 
the  celestial  rainbow  that  stills  the  tempest  of  the  Divine  Justice.  For 
my  own  part,  I  am  persuaded  that,  if  it  were  not  for  the  Holy  Mass,  the 
world  would  have  long  since  tottered  from  its  foundations,  crushed  be- 
neath the  enormous  weight  of  so  many  accumulated  iniquities.  The  Mass 
is  the  ponderous  and  powerful  supporter  on  which  the  world  rests — which 

keeps  it    from  falling   into  horrid  chaos Ah,  indeed,  if  it  were 

not  for  this  Holy  Victim  (Jesus  Christ),  once  offered  for  us  on  the  cross, 
and  now  daily  offered  on  our  altars,  we,  one  and  all,  might  renounce  all 
hope  of  heaven,  and  look  on  hell  as  our  final  destination  "  (Hidden  Treas- 
ure). 

(c)  We  owe  to  God  a  debt  of  infinite  gratitude  for  all  the  favors  and 
blessings,  both  spiritual  and  temporal,  which  He  has  bestowed  upon  us- 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE.  ,  465 

We  are  deeply  indebted  to  Him  for  all  those  beautiful  and  priceless 
graces  which  He  has  given  us  in  the  past,  and  still  continues  to  give  us 
in  the  present.  We  are  indebted  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  the  won- 
drous love  He  has  displayed  in  the  redemption  of  man  ;  and,  above  all, 
we  are  indebted  to  Him  for  the  institution  of  the  sacraments,  for  His 
Real  Presence  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  and  for  His  promise  to  abide 
therein,  even  to  the  consummation  of  the  world.  What  return  can  we 
make  for  all  these  favors  ?  What  offering  can  we  make,  from  our  pov- 
erty, worthy  of  this  all-bountiful  God  ?  Well,  brethren,  we  have  in  the 
Mass,  and  in  it  alone,  an  offering  that  is  worthy:  "an  oblation  and  a  sac- 
rifice to  God,  for  an  odor  of  sweetness  "  (Eph.  v.  2).  In  the  Mass  we 
offer  to  God  His  Divine  Son,  and  that  spotless  Victim  being  a  gift  of  in- 
finite value,  our  offering  of  gratitude  to  Almighty  God  is  thus  an  ade- 
quate return  for  all  His  favors. 

(d)  The  fourth  great  end  for  which  Mass  is  said,  my  brethren,  is  :  to 
beg  Almighty  God  for  all  graces  and  favors,  both  spiritual  and  temporal, 
which  we  require.  We  are  all  poor  beggars  in  the  sight  of  God.  Like 
the  Bishop  of  Laodicea,  we  are  all  "  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor, 
and  blind,  and  naked  "  (Apoc.  iii.  17).  We  need  many  things  from  God  ; 
and,  owing  to  our  multiplied  and  enormous  sins,  we  require  specially  a 
mediator  to  make  intercession  for  us  with  the  Most  High.  And  so,  out 
of  love  for  us  (and  in  spite  of  our  utter  unworthiness),  Jesus  Christ  (Q 
strange  and  marvellous  mercy !)  has  chosen  to  be  our  Mediator,  and,  even 
more,  to  be  Himself  our  Victim  of  propitiation  in  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Mass.  Whether  the  priest  be  a  holy  saint  or  an  unworthy  man,  the  in- 
trinsic value  of  the  Mass — because  of  the  Invisible  Priest,  Jesus  Christ — 
is  necessarily  infinite ;  although,  according  to  the  teaching  of  St. 
Thomas,  the  application  of  the  Sacrifice  is  of  greater  or  less  efficacy  ia 
proportion  to  the  disposition  of  the  person  for  whom  it  is  offered.  Christ, 
in  the  Mass,  is  "  able,  also,  to  save  forever  them  that  come  unto  God  by 
himself ;  always  living  to  make  intercession  for  us.  For  it  was  fitting 
that  we  should  have  such  a  High-Priest — holy,  innocent,  undefiled,  sep- 
arated from  sinners,  and  made  higher  than  the  heavens"  (Heb.  vii.  25, 
etc.). 

What,  then,  dear  Christians,  may  you  not  expect  through  the  Mass 
when  offered  up  for  your  intention?  For,  in  every  such  Mass,  Jesus 
Christ  earnestly  implores  for  you  all  that  you  desire  from  His  Eternal 
Father.  Jesus  and  the  Eternal  Father  are  one ;  therefore  in  the  Mass, 
and  through  the  Mass,  you  are  sure  to  obtain  all  that  you  rightly  ask  for, 
and  much  more  in  addition.  "Assuredly,"  says  St.  Jerome,  "the  Lord 
grants  all  the  favors  for  which  we  petition  Him  in  the  Mass,  provided 
they  be  suitable  to  us ;  and  what  is  far  more  admirable.  He  very  oftea 


466  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

grants  us  that  for  which  we  do  not  petition  Him,  always  provided  that 
we  place  no  obstacles  to  His  holy  designs."  St.  Bernard,  speaking  of  the 
intrinsic  value  of  the  Mass,  says,  that  "  more  is  gained  by  one  single  Mass 
than  by  distributing  all  your  substance  among  the  poor,  or  going  on  pil- 
grimages to  all  the  most  venerable  sanctuaries  on  this  globe."  St. 
Thomas,  the  Angelic  Doctor,  states  that  "  the  Holy  Mass  contains  all 
those  fruits,  all  those  graces,  nay,  all  those  infinite  treasures  which  the 
Son  of  God  showered  so  abundantly  upon  His  Church,  in  the  bloody 
Sacrifice  of  the  Cross." 

Since  Almighty  God  has,  then,  vouchsafed  to  give  us  the  Holy  Sacri- 
fice of  the  Mass,  He  has,  with  it,  given  us  the  means  to  obtain  all  good 
things.  By  offering  up  a  Mass,  or  by  causing  it  to  be  offered  for  you,  my 
brethren,  it  may  be  said  that,  in  a  certain  sense,  you  make  God  your 
debtor.  For,  in  that  "  clean  oblation  of  the  altar,"  you  lovingly  offer 
Jesus  Christ  to  His  Eternal  Father  in  sacrifice  ;  and  thereby  you  make 
Almighty  God  an  infinite  offering,  in  return  for  the  finite  creatures  He 
bestows  upon  you  from  His  bounty,  for  your  use  and  benefit.  Let  us, 
then,  my  brethren,  in  all  our  undertakings,  make  an  offering  of  the  Mass 
to  God,  and  ask  Him  in  that  Holy  Sacrifice  for  all  such  favors,  great  or 
small,  as  we  may  need  or  desire.  He  cannot  easily  refuse  us,  for  it  is 
the  transcendent  nature  of  God  not  to  be  outdone  by  us.  His  creatures, 
in  kindness  or  in  generosity.  We  seek  for  many  graces  at  the  hands  of 
God.  We  stand  in  need  of  many  blessings.  Let  us  offer  up  the  Mass  to 
obtain  them.  Let  us  offer  it  up  to  obtain  the  full  forgiveness  of  our 
manifold  sins,  both  known  and  unknown.  Let  us  offer  up  the  Mass  to 
obtain  the  conversion  of  all  poor  sinners.  Let  us  offer  it  up  to  obtain 
protection  from  the  many  temptations  of  Satan.  Let  us  offer  it  up,  too, 
for  all  temporal  things,  such  as  good  health  of  body  and  mind,  and  suc- 
cess in  our  lawful  business.  Let  us  offer  up  Masses  for  the  sick  and  the 
dying  that  they  may  obtain  the  grace  of  a  happy  death.  And,  further- 
more, let  us  frequently  offer  up  the  sublime  Sacrifice  of  the  Altar  for  all 
the  souls  suffering  in  Purgatory,  especially  for  those  imprisoned  therein 
through  our  fault,  whether  friends  or  otherwise,  that  they  may  be  speed- 
ily released  from  their  pains,  and  joyfully  admitted  into  the  presence  of 
God  in  heaven. 

My  brethren,  frequently  assist  at  the  Holy  Mass.  Remember  there 
is  no  half  hour  so  well  spent,  as  the  half  hour  devoted  to  attendance  at 
this  Holy  Sacrifice.  You  know,  of  course,  that  the  laity  assisting  at  Mass, 
offer  the  Sacrifice  in  union  with  the  priest.  Hence,  the  latter  says  at 
that  holy  time.  Orate  fratres,  etc.,  "  Pray,  brethren,  that  my  and  your 
sacrifice  may  be  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God  the  Father  Omnipotent." 
At  Mass  the  people  should,  as  it  were,  hold  up  the  hands  of  the  priest 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  4^7 

when  he  takes  the  consecrated  host  and  the  chalice  and  offers  the  great 
Sacrifice. 

Great  blessings  descend  upon  those  who  join  with  the  priest  in  devoutly- 
offering  up  this  great  sacrifice.  No  one  should  be  stopping  outside  the 
church  during  time  of  Mass.  St.  Gregory  says :  "  A  well-disposed  man 
who  hears  Holy  Mass  with  due  attention,  is  preserved  in  the  way  of  recti- 
tude, while  grace  and  merit  increase  in  him ;  and  he  continues  to  make 
new  acquisitions  of  virtue  which  render  him  more  and  more  acceptable  to 
God."  "  Whoever  hears  Mass  devoutly  every  day,"  says  St.  Augustine, 
■"  shall  be  preserved  from  a  sudden  death,  which  is  the  most  awful  weapon 
with  which  Divine  Justice  punishes  the  sinner."  But,  my  brethren,  listen 
to  the  sublime  language  of  St.  Leonard  of  Port  Maurice  on  this  subject : 
^'  Would  that  I  could  ascend,"  says  he,  "  to  the  summit  of  the  loftiest 
mountain,  and  cry  aloud,  so  that  the  whole  world  might  hear  me  exclaim- 
ing :  'Foolish,  foolish  people,  what  are  ye  doing?  Why  will  you  not 
hasten  to  the  churches  to  assist  at  every  Mass  celebrated  therein  ?  Why 
will  you  not  imitate  those  holy  Angels  who,  according  to  St.  John 
Chrysostom,  descend  in  thousands  from  the  heavens,  when  Mass  is  being 
celebrated,  and  array  themselves  before  our  altars,  covered  with  wings  of 
holy  awe,  tarrying  there  during  the  august  sacrifice,  in  order  to  intercede 
more  eflficaciously  for  us,  knowing  well  that  this  is  the  most  opportune 
time  and  most  propitious  occasion  that  can  be,  for  obtaining  favors  from 
heaven?'"  (Hid.  Treasure).  And  St.  Leonard,  furthermore,  adds  the  fol- 
lowing very  emphatic  words — (they  are  the  burning  words  of  a  saint): 
— "  Let  me,  on  bended  knees,"  he  says,  "  and  with  hands  uplifted,  im- 
plore all  who  read  this  little  work  on  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  not  to 
close  it  till  they  have  made  a  firm  resolution  of  henceforth  employing  all 
possible  diligence  in  assisting  at  Mass,  and  causing  to  be  celebrated  as 
many  Masses  as  their  means  will  permit,  not  only  for  the  souls  of  the 
deceased,  but,  also,  for  their  own  souls !  "  {IbidJ^) 

Oh  !  my  brethren,  let  us  thank  Almighty  God  a  thousand  times  for 
His  unspeakable  love  toward  us  in  having  given  to  us  in  the  Church  the 
rich  treasure  of  the  Mass !  Let  us  ask  Mary,  the  Crowned  Queen  of 
Heaven,  to  thank  our  Blessed  Lord  and  God,  again  and  again,  for  His 
love  for  us,  individually,  in  thus,  also,  having  made  known  to  us  the 
hidden  riches  of  this  adorable  Sacrifice,  and  the  untold  benefits  we  may 
derive  from  it,  both  for  time  and  for  eternity  !     It  is  a  precious  mine  of 


*  By  a  special  rule  of  this  Order,  St.  Leonard  was  not  allowed  to  accept  any 
money  for  "saying"  Mass. 

If  the  whole  globe  were  of  solid  gold,  it  would  not  be  a  sufficient  price  for  a 
Mass. 


468 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


exhaustless  wealth,  a  treasury  of  grace,  a  perennial  fountain  of  blessings ; 
it  is  the  sun  and  centre  of  the  whole  system  of  true  religion ;  it  is  the 
heavenly  focus — inexpressibly  loved  and  lovely — in  which  are  concen- 
trated all  the  soul-saving  rays  of  God's  beauty  and  royal  splendor,  of  His 
glory  and  Majesty  and  Divinity.  The  Mass  is  the  miracle  of  miracles — 
it  is  the  mystery  of  God's  deep,  boundless,  and  burning  love  for  man  ! — 
"  Having  loved  His  own,  who  were  in  the  world,"  says  St.  John  the  Evan- 
gelist, "  He  loved  them  to  the  end  "  (John  xiii.  i).    Amen. 


ON  CONTRITION. 

"A  contrite  and  humble  heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise."— Ps.  1.  19. 

HE  heart,  my  brethren,  is  the  seat  of  the  affections:  love  and 
courage  and  vigor  come  forth  from  it  as  from  their  source. 
Virtues,  and  vices  also,  of  every  kind  spring  from  the  heart. 
The  virtues  that  adorn  a  good  life  have  their  origin  in  the 
heart.  Hence,  we  say  of  a  good  man,  he  has  a  good  heart.  And  of  a 
bad  man,  on  the  contrary,  we  say,  he  has  a  bad  heart.  "  The  things 
which  proceed  out  of  the  mouth,"  says  our  Blessed  Lord,  "  come  forth 

from  the  heart For,  from  the  heart  come  forth  evil   thoughts, 

murders,  adulteries,  fornications,  thefts,  false  testimonies,  blasphemies " 
(Matt.  XV.  18,  19). 

When  you  see  a  man,  or  woman,  whose  profession,  as  a  Christian,  is, 
or  at  least  ought  to  be,  holy  poverty,  and  yet  is  bent  on  making  money, 
grasping  at  property,  hunting  after  rich  people,  you  know  that  there  is 
avarice  in  that  man  or  woman's  heart.  When  you  see  a  hypocrite  trying 
to  pass  for  a  saint ;  when  you  see  any  one  stooping  to  low  tricks  ;  wishing 
others  to  do  everything  above-board,  so  as  to  take  unjust  advantage 
thereby,  whilst  himself  does  everything  under-board  ;  trying  to  thwart 
his  neighbor,  and  throw  ridicule  upon  him :  you  know  that  such  a  man 
has  a  mean  heart.  Whenever,  again,  you  see  a  man  or  a  woman  going 
about  gossipping,  or  whispering  among  the  people ;  wanting  to  know 
everybody's  business,  whilst  neglecting  his  own ;  saying :  "  This  one  is 
selfish  and  ignorant  and  unfit  to  fill  the  position  he  is  in  ";  when  you 
observe  some  elderly,  and  perhaps  single  (?)  persons,  of  either  sex,  given 
to  an  indulgence  in  sloth,  or  to  intoxicating  drink,  or  to  ambition,  or 
impurity,  or  any  other  vice:  you  know  at  once  that  such  a  person 
must  certainly  have  a  bad  heart.  The  various  powers  of  body  and  facul- 
ties of  mind  that  are  put  to  work  in  the  doing  of  evil,  are  only  the  instru- 
ments in  the  service  of  the  heart.  They  have  no  liberty  of  their  own : 
the  heart  is  their  ruler  and  governor ;  and  they  have  to  obey  whether 
they  like  it  or  not.     From  the  heart,  then,  all  proceeds. 

When  sin,  therefore,  is  committed,  the  heart,  my  brethren,  is  the  first 
and  chief,  and  in  fact  the  only  criminal.     And,  consequently,  when  the 

(469) 


470  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

sinner  is  penitent,  and  becomes  sorry  for  his  sin,  it  is  his  heart  that 
should  really  feel  the  sorrow. 

Now,  my  brethren,  when  we  have  true  sorrow  for  sin  the  heart  is,  as  it 
were,  crushed  and  broken.  Such  sorrow  is  called  by  the  expressive  name 
of  "  contrition,"  which  word  is  a  compound  of  two  Latin  words  signify- 
ing :  a  complete  crushing  together,  or  a  breaking  to  pieces.  The  heart  is 
hardened  by  pride  and  sin ;  by  contrition  it  is  smashed  up  into  atoms. 
The  sorrow  of  heart  includes,  of  course,  a  sorrow  of  mind,  arising  from 
the  painful  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  sin  and  the  unspeakable  hatred 
which  God  bears  to  it. 

The  Catechism  defines  contrition  to  be :  "A  hearty  sorrow  and  detesta- 
tion of  sin  for  having  ofifended  God,  with  a  firm  resolution  of  sinning  no 
more."  As  the  malice  of  sin  proceeds  from  the  heart,  so  the  repentance, 
sorrow,  and  detestation  of  sin  must  likewise  proceed  from  the  same  source. 
The  sorrow,  then,  must  be  a  "  hearty  sorrow  ":  no  less  will  do.  God 
Himself  has  given  a  strict  precept  to  this  effect.  "  The  Lord  hath  uttered 
His  voice  before  the  face  of  His  army :  for  His  armies  are  exceeding 
great,  for  they  are  strong  and  execute  His  word  :  for  the  day  of  the  Lord 
is  great  and  very  terrible;  and  who  can  stand  it?  Now,  therefore,  saith 
the  Lord :  Be  converted  to  me  with  all  your  heart  in  fasting,  and  in 
weeping,  and  in  mourning.  And  rend  your  hearts,  and  not  your  gar- 
ments"  (Joel  xi.  12,  13). 

The  penitents  of  the  Old  Law  used  to  express  their  sorrow  for  sin  by 
changing  their  garments.  Our  Lord  alludes  to  this  custom,  when  up- 
braiding the  two  cities,  wherein  were  done  the  most  of  His  miracles,  for 
that  they  had  not  done  penance  for  their  sins :  "  Woe  to  thee,  Corozain, 
woe  to  thee,  Bethsaida :  for  if  in  Tyre  and  Sidon  had  been  wrought  the 
miracles  that  have  been  wrought  in  you,  they  had  long  ago  done  pen- 
ance in  sackcloth  and  ashes"  (Matt.  xi.  21). 

Contrition  is  a  necessary  part  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance :  the 
other  parts  are :  confession,  satisfaction,  and  not  the  absolution  given  by 
the  priest.  Of  course,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  state  that  it  is  only  the 
sins  committed  after  baptism  which  are  forgiven  by  the  Sacrament  of 
Penance. 

Contrition  is  essentially  necessary,  as  a  means  to  obtain  the  pardon  of 
sin.  For,  whilst  the  sinner  is  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin,  his  back  is,  as  it 
were,  turned  upon  God ;  but  when  he  is  in  a  state  of  grace  his  face  is 
joyfully  turned  toward  God.  Now,  this  change,  namely,  the  sorrow  of 
heart,  and  detestation  of  sin,  is  necessary;  as,  otherwise,  the  sinner  would 
be  and  would  not  be,  at  the  same  time,  turned  toward  God.  If  there 
were  no  contrition,  no  change  of  heart  required,  the  sinner  could  be,  at 
the   same   time,   both   the   friend   and    the    enemy   of   God ;   which   is 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  471 

supremely  absurd.  Whilst  the  sinner  is  in  mortal  sin,  he  is  an  enemy  of 
God,  and  he  cannot  possibly  be  the  friend  of  God,  unless  he  changes 
from  that  state.  It  is  by  contrition  the  sinner  changes  from  the  one 
state  to  the  other. 

Again,  contrition  is  necessary  as  a  means  of  salvation  for  those  who 
have  fallen  into  mortal  sin.  Christ  Himself  has  given  a  strict  precept  to 
this  effect:  "  But  except  you  do  penance,"  He  says,  "you  shall  all  like- 
wise perish  "  (Luke  xiii.  5).  "  Be  penitent,  therefore,  and  be  converted, 
that  your  sins  may  be  blotted  out "  (Acts  iii.  9).  The  Catechism  of  the 
Council  of  Trent  says :  "  To  it  (penance)  in  so  special  a  manner  belongs 
the  efficacy  of  cancelling  sins,  that  without  penance  we  cannot  by  any 
means  obtain  or  even  hope  for  remission  of  sins"  (Part  II.,  chap.  v.).  A 
Christian  in  mortal  sin  may  be  saved  without  confession  or  absolution, 
but  he  cannot  be  saved  without  contrition. 

Venial  sins  also  require  some  kind  of  penance  in  order  to  be  remitted. 
The  Church  performs  daily  penance  toward  their  remission.  St.  Augus- 
tine says  :  "  If  venial  sins  could  be  remitted  without  penance,  the  daily 
penance  performed  for  them  by  the  Church  would  be  to  no  purpose." 
Of  course,  there  can  be  no  penance  without  contrition. 

Contrition  is  of  two  kinds  :  perfect  and  imperfect.  Perfect  contrition 
is  a  hatred  for  sin,  because  sin  is  offensive  to  God,  who  is  infinitely  good 
and  perfect  in  Himself.  Imperfect  contrition,  or  attrition  as  it  is  called, 
is  a  hatred  for  sin  arising  from  the  fear  of  the  punishment  due  to  sin  in 
the  next  life,  or  from  any  other  supernatural  motive.  In  perfect  contri- 
tion there  is  a  love  of  God  for  His  sake  alone  ! — in  imperfect  contrition 
a  love  for  God  for  our  own  sake.  Where  contrition  is,  the  whole  heart 
is  crushed ;  there  is  a  perfect  love  of  God,  and  a  complete  sorrow  for  sin. 
Where  attrition  is,  only  the  surface,  as  it  were,  of  the  heart  is  touched  : 
the  love  is  imperfect,  and  the  sorrow  incomplete. 

In  attrition  there  is  a  mere  beginning  of  love  for  God.  This  begin- 
ning is  perfected  into  full  love,  or  charity,  by  receiving  the  Sacrament  of 
Penance.  Attrition  with  confession  and  absolution  secures  to  the  sinner 
a  state  of  grace.  St.  Alphonsus  Liguori,  a  Doctor  of  the  Universal 
Church,  says:  "  Whenever  a  penitent  has  an  act  of  sorrow,  he  has  also, 
even  explicitly,  acts  of  Faith  and  Hope  (not,  indeed,  by  direct  reflection 
upon  them,  but  by  actually  exercising  them)  :  because,  without  doubt, 
he  does  then  actually  believe  and  hope,  that,  in  virtue  of  the  merits  of 
Christ,  his  sins  are  forgiven  him  by  the  Sacrament  of  Penance.  And  we 
say  that  a  bcgitining  of  love  is  found  in  any  attrition — both  in  the  fear  of 
punishments  to  be  inflicted  by  God,  according  to  that  of  Ecclesiasticus 
XXV.  16  :  *  the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  His  love  ';  and  also  in  the 
hope  of  pardon  and  eternal  happiness,  according  to  these  words  of  St. 


472  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Thomas:  '  From  this,  that  we  hope  to  obtain  good  things  from  any  one, 
we  begin  to  love  him  '  "  (St.  Lig.,  Horn.  Apostol.). 

Sins  are  immediately  remitted  by  perfect  contrition.  This  is  the  only 
means  we  have  for  recovering  God's  friendship  when  we  fall  into  mortal 
sin,  and  cannot  go  to  confession,  or  are  unable  to  make  a  confession. 
Perfect  contrition  includes  the  intention  of  going  to  confession.  Yet 
before  the  reception  of  the  sacrament  the  sins  are  forgiven,  just  as  the 
lepers  of  old  had  been  cured  even  before  they  had  reached  the  priests 
(Luke  xvii.  14).  Attrition  will  not  remit  sin  unless  in  the  Sacrament  of 
Penance. 

A  question  is  raised  as  to  how  long  a  person  in  mortal  sin  can  remain 
without  committing  a  fresh  mortal  sin  in  not  making  an  act  of  contrition : 
either  imperfect  contrition,  with  the  sacrament,  or  perfect  contrition  with 
or  without  the  sacrament.  There  are  various  opinions  given  by  theolo- 
gians. The  more  probable  opinion,  however,  held  by  St.  Liguori  and 
others,  is,  that  for  well-instructed  Catholics  to  defer  it  longer  than  a 
month  would  be  a  mortal  sin.  It  would  be  a  mortal  sin,  also,  not  to  do 
so  whenever  we  are  conscious  of  being  in  mortal  sin,  and  are  in  probable 
danger  of  death;  or  whenever  we  are  about  to  receive  any  sacrament 
which  requires  to  be  received  in  a  state  of  grace.  The  same,  also,  if  we  are 
about  to  administer  any  sacrament.  Sometimes  the  laity  have  to  admin- 
ister private  baptism. 

There  are  certain  qualities,  my  brethren,  which  true  contrition  must 
have.  i^.  It  must  be  universal.  It  must  extend  to  all  our  mortal  sins, 
not  even  one  excepted.  If  there  should  happen  to  be  even  one  mortal 
sin'  for  which  we  have  no  sorrow,  either  implicit  or  explicit,  that  one 
mortal  sin  would  be  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  the  infusion  of  grace  into 
the  soul ;  and  without  the  infusion  of  grace  no  mortal  sin  can  ever  be 
forgiven.  We  cannot  be  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin  and  in  a  state  of  grace 
at  the  same  time.  We  must  have  true  sorrow  for  all  our  sins.  "  Be  con- 
verted and  do  penance  for  all  your  iniquities,  and  iniquity  shall  not  be 
your  ruin  "  (Ezech.  xviii.  30).  "  You  shall  seek  me,  and  you  shall  find 
me;  when  you  shall  seek  me  with  all  your  heart.  And  I  will  be  found 
by  you,  saith  the  Lord  :  and  I  will  bring  back  your  captivity,  and  I  will 
gather  you  out  of  all  nations,  and  from  all  the  places  to  which  I  have 
driven  you  out  "  (Jer.  xxix.  13,  14). 

To  have  our  sorrow  universal  we  must  have  a  firm  purpose  of  avoiding 
all  sin  for  the  time  to  come.  And  we  must,  furthermore,  repair  the 
injury  done  to  God  by  our  sin  ;  and  if  we  have  injured  our  neighbor  in 
any  way,  we  must  repair  the  injury  as  soon  as  we  can,  and  as  far  as  we 
possibly  can.  "  The  sin  is  not  forgiven,  unless  what  was  taken  away  be 
restored,"  says  St.  Augustine  (Epist.  v.  4).     God  will  not  forgive  us  if  we 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE,  473 

do  not  forgive  all  others,  without  any  exception.  He  has  emphatically  told 
us  so.  "  But,"  says  He,  "  if  you  will  not  forgive  men  "  (that  is,  all  men 
without  exception),  "  neither  will  your  Father  forgive  you  your  offenses  " 
(Matt.  vi.  15). 

2''.  Our  contrition,  whether  perfect  or  imperfect,  must  be  supernatural : 
that  is,  our  sorrow  for  sin  must  arise  from  supernatural  motives — motives 
known  to  us  by  faith — such  as  the  love  of  God,  or  the  fear  of  hell,  etc. 
To  be  sorry  for  sin  because  by  it  we  have  brought  disgrace  upon  our- 
selves, or  disease,  or  temporal  loss,  is  not  sufficient.  Such  sorrow  is 
based  on  natural  motives :  it  is  a  sorrow  of  this  world.  King  Antiochus 
was  sorry  for  his  sins,  because  of"  the  bodily  pains  he  felt  as  arising  from 
his  sins ;  but  his  sorrow  was  of  no  avail.  It  was  not  founded  on  any 
motive  known  by  faith  :  it  was  only  natural  sorrow,  not  supernatural. 

3*^.  Our  contrition  must  be  sovereign :  that  is,  our  sorrow  for  sin  must 
be  far  beyond  the  sorrow  that  we  would  have  for  anything  in  this  world. 
Sin  is  the  greatest  evil.  God's  grace  and  friendship  are  far  greater  in 
value  than  anything  in  this  world  ;  therefore,  our  sorrow  at  losing  them 
by  sin  should  be  greater  far  than  our  sorrow  at  losing  anything  else. 

4°.  Our  contrition  must  contain  a  firm  resolution  of  sinning  no  more. 
Hence,  we  must  be  prepared  to  avoid  the  occasions  of  sin.  Every  person, 
place,  or  object  that  we  have  reason  to  know  would  be  an  occasion  or 
cause  to  us  of  committing  sin,  must  be  carefully  avoided.  No  matter 
how  dear  they  may  be  to  us  ;  no  matter  how  hard  we  may  find  it  to  avoid 
them,  avoid  them  we  must,  or  else  our  contrition  is  no  contrition.  It  is 
only  a  mockery,  a  delusion,  and  a  snare  of  the  devil.  A  priest  is  not  at 
liberty  to  give  absolution  to  any  one  who  is  not  prepared  to  avoid  the 
immediate  occasions  of  sin. 

The  man  that  has  a  firm,  real  resolution  of  sinning  no  more  does  not 
easily  relapse  into  sin.  Where  there  is  true  contrition  God  gives  His 
grace ;  and  the  grace  of  God  does  solid,  substantial  work,  which  is  not 
likely  to  be  blown  down  with  every  slight  wind  of  temptation.  Where 
there  is  true  contrition  the  penitent  yields,  not  without  great  efforts  and 
struggle,  and  not  until  after  he  has  fought  a  long  and  brave  fight  with  the 
enemy.  The  relapsing  sinner,  on  the  contrary,  shows  that  he  has  only  a 
half  purpose ;  not  a  firm  full  purpose.  His  will  is  half  for  God,  and  half 
for  the  devil.  He  is  a  double-minded  man  ;  and  "  a  double-minded  man 
is  inconstant  in  all  his  ways  "  (James  i.  8).  The  best  sign  for  knowing 
whether  the  contrition  was  good  or  bad  is,  the  amendment  of  hfe,  or  the 
relapse  of  the  sinner.  '*  By  their  fruits  you  shall  know  them "  (Matt, 
vii.  20). 

Ah  !  my  brethren,  judging  ourselves  by  this  test,  I  fear  that  when  we 
received  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  we  often  had  only  false  and  bad  con- 


474  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

trition  for  our  sins.  "  Be  not  without  fear  for  sins  forgiven  "  (Eccli.  v. 
5)  :  that  is,  sins  supposed  to  be  forgiven. 

To  go  to  confession  without  having  true  contrition  is  to  place  yourselves 
at  once  in  the  hands  of  the  devil  to  be  led  by  him  into  hell.  St.  Chry- 
sostom  says:  "The  devil  leads  some  by  sin,  others  by  penance  into 
damnation."  So  cautious  of  profaning  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  were 
the  early  Fathers  of  the  Church,  that  they  refused  to  give  absolution  to 
relapsing  sinners  sooner  than  at  the  time  of  death.  St.  Isidore  speaks 
strongly  on  this  subject.  He  says :  "  He  is  a  scoffer,  not  a  penitent, 
who  commits  what  he  repented  of.  Nor  is  he  cleansed  who  weeps  for 
his  sins,  yet  does  not  forsake  them,  but  reiterates  after  penance  what  he 
wept  for."  By  contrition  the  sinner  takes  his  soul  away  from  the  devil ; 
but  by  relapse  he  makes  atonement,  as  it  were,  to  the  devil. 

You  see,  my  brethren,  how  necessary  it  is  for  us  to  have  true  contrition 
for  our  sins.  What  if  we  thought  our  contrition  sufficient,  when  in  reality 
it  was  defective  ?  Then,  indeed,  great  would  be  the  mistake.  The  Sacra- 
ment of  Penance  received  unworthily,  would  be  to  us  a  source  of  ruin 
and  damnation !  Penance  is  a  plank  after  shipwreck ;  and,  as  in  time  of 
shipwreck  few  save  themselves  by  a  plank,  so  it  is  only  a  few  that  save 
themselves  by  the  plank  of  penance.  True  penitents,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
are  very  rare.  The  time  of  St.  Ambrose  was  remarkable  for  its  illustrious 
penitents,  and  yet  the  Saint  goes  so  far  as  to  say :  "  I  have  more  easily 
found  him  who  shall  have  preserved  his  innocence  unspotted,  than  he 
who,  after  a  fall,  shall  have  done  worthy  penance." 

Let  us,  therefore,  my  brethren,  pray  for  the  great  grace  of  true  con- 
trition. Contrition,  whether  perfect  or  imperfect,  is  a  gift  which  we  can- 
not have  unless  it  be  given  us  by  God.  The  Prophet  Jeremias  cries  out : 
"  Convert  me,  and  I  shall  be  converted :  for  Thou  art  the  Lord  my  God. 
For  after  Thou  didst  convert  me,  I  did  penance"  (Jer.  xxxi.  i8,  19). 
"  Destruction  is  thy  own,  O  Israel :  thy  help  is  only  in  me  "  (Osee  iii. 
9).  "  No  man  can  come  to  me,"  says  our  Lord,  "except  the  Father,  who 
hath  sent  me,  draw  him  "  (John  vi.  44).  God  draws  us  to  Himself  by 
His  grace.  When  grace  touches  the  will,  the  will  forthwith  springs  into 
a  love  for  God,  and  a  hearty  sorrow  for  past  sin ;  and  a  firm  resolution 
not  to  sin  ever  again  is  the  outcome.  God  gave  the  grace  of  contrition 
to  Peter,  who  "  wept  bitterly  "  for  his  sins ;  He  gave  it  to  King  David, 
who  watered  his  couch  with  his  tears ;  and  He  gave  it  to  Mary  Magdalen, 
who  with  contrition,  fell  down  before  her  Saviour,  and  washed  His  sacred 
feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair!  "And  Jesus  said  to 
her :  Go  in  peace,  and  sin  no  more !  "  These  words  echoed  in  her  ears : 
she  sinned  no  more.  She  is  now  a  saint  in  heaven,  and  the  words  of  the 
Saviour  to  her  still  echo  in  her  ears.     Sweeter  they  grow,  and  sweeter,  as 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE, 


475 


some  of  the  high-toned  enrapturing  chords  of  celestial  music !  Go  in 
peace,  and  sin  no  more !  Her  peace  to-day  is  the  blaze  of  heaven's  glory 
around  her ! 

Ah !  my  brethren,  the  grace  of  true  contrition  is  always  ready  in 
God's  hands  to  be  given  to  you.  All  God  wants  is  that  you  ask  it  of 
Him.     "  Ask"  it,  He  says,  "  and  it  shall  be  given  to  you  "  (Luke  xi.  9). 

It  is  natural  to  fall  into  sin :  it  is  a  disgrace  to  remain  in  sin  :  it  is  an 
honor  to  co-operate  with  God's  grace,  to  do  penance,  and  thus  to  get  free 
of  sin. 

Where  there  is  true  contrition,  there  is  a  complete  change  of  life :  the 
**  old  man  "  is  exchanged  for  the  "  new."  The  sinful  pleasures,  once 
loved,  are  now  hated ;  the  dangerous  occasions  of  sin  are  avoided ;  the 
soul  is  filled  with  hope  in  the  merciful  forgiveness  of  God,  and  filled  also 
with  a  desire  to  keep  His  commandments  for  the  time  to  come. 

My  brethren,  let  us  exhort  you  in  the  burning  words  of  St.  Paul : 
"  But  now  lay  you  also  away,  anger,  indignation,  malice,  blasphemy, 
filthy  speech  out  of  your  mouth.  Lie  not  one  to  another :  stripping 
yourself  of  the  old  man  with  his  deeds,  and  putting  on  the  new,  him 
who  is  renewed  unto  knowledge,  according  to  the  image  of  Him  who 
created  him  "  (Coloss.  iii.  8,  9,  etc.).  Oh !  would  that  every  word  in  this 
book  had  a  tongue  to  urge  the  importance  and  the  necessity  of  contrition  ; 
for  "  a  contrite  and  humble  heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise " 
(Psalm  1.  19). 


ON   CONFESSION. 

Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost ;  whose  sins  you  shall  forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them : 
and  whose  sins  you  shall  retain,  they  are  retained." — ^John  xx.  22,  23. 

|T.  JOHN  tells  us  that  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  when  it  was 
late,  and  the  disciples  were  gathered  together,  and  the  doors 
were  shut   for  fear  of  the  Jews,  Jesus  stood  in  the  midst  of 
His  disciples,  and  said  to  them:  "Peace  be  to  you."     And 
then  breathing  upon  them.  He  said :  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent  me,  I 

also  send  you Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost :  whose  sins  you  shall 

forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them  ;  and  whose  sins  you  shall  retain,  they 
are  retained  "  (John  xx.). 

From  these  clear  and  simple  words,  it  is  evident  that  that  self-same 
power  which  Jesus  Christ  Himself  had  over  sin,  as  to  its  forgiveness, 
He  communicated  to  His  Apostles.  And  He  desired  that  from  that 
time  forward  sins  should  be  forgiven  by  the  Apostles  and  their  lawful 
successors.  Hence,  not  to  have  their  sins  forgiven  by  this  means,  when- 
ever it  was  possible,  would  be  to  make  null  and  void  the  words  of  Christ. 
If  the  confession  of  our  sins  to  God  alone  were  sufficient  for  forgiveness, 
or  if  there  were  any  other  means  besides  forgiveness  through  the  priests, 
what  use  would  it  be  for  Christ  to  say  to  His  Apostles  or  Priests  :  **  Whose 
sins  you  shall  retain,  they  are  retained  "  ?  It  is  only  where  the  forgive- 
ness of  the  priest  cannot  be  had,  that  Christ  Himself  forgives.  Christ, 
of  course,  can  and  does  then  exercise  this  power  personally  and  immedi- 
ately, just  as  by  His  omnipotence  He  has  communicated  the  power  tc 
others:  ''  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost."  By  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
so  received,  the  Apostles  can  forgive  sin. 

Now,  the  exercise  of  the  power  of  forgiving  sin  implies  the  necessity 
of  confession.  For,  how  can  a  priest  forgive  sin  if  he  does  not  know 
what  the  sin  is  ?  And,  how  can  he  know  what  the  sin  is  unless  the  sin- 
ner tells  it  to  him  ?  And  this  telling  of  sin  to  a  priest  with  a  view  to  get 
it  forgiven,  is,  nothing  more  or  less  than  confession.  Therefore,  con- 
fession is  necessary  in  order  to  get  sins  forgiven.  Christ  meant  con- 
fession, and  will  not  dispense  with  it  unless,  indeed,  the  sinner  be  un- 
able, through  some  cause  or  other,  to  make  a  confession  of  his  sin  to  a 
priest. 

(476) 


III  1 1' 11  ;■ ;    I  ■ 
Ml  H'lil' 

'  "1,1! 


^onttssion. 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  477 

When  exercising  the  power  of  forgiving  sin  the  priest  acts  as  a  judge 
of  consciences  ;  but  the  priest  cannot  act  as  a  judge  of  consciences,  unless 
he  knows  them ;  therefore,  confession  is  necessary  in  order  to  exercise 
the  commission  given  by  Christ.  Without  confession  the  priest  cannot 
judge  when  exactly  to  "  retain,"  and  when  to  "  forgive."  St.  Liguori 
says  that  "  For  those  who  sin  grievously  there  is  no  means  of  salvation 
but  the  confession  of  their  sins."  Confession  cannot  be  made,  and  abso- 
lution given,  by  messenger  or  by  letter.  Clement  VIII.,  in  the  year 
1602,  condemned  this  method. 

Since  the  institution  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance,  confession,  when 
available,  is  as  necessary  for  the  remission  of  mortal  sin  committed  after 
baptism  as  baptism  itself  is  necessary  for  the  remission  of  original  sin. 
Prayers,  fastings,  alms-deeds,  no  matter  how  good  in  themselves,  cannot 
serve  as  a  substitute  for  confession.  We  cannot  ever  get  mortal  sins  for- 
given by  them,  nor  by  any  other  means,  uiiless  we  have  recourse  by  con- 
fession, when  it  is  possible,  to  those  to  whom  Christ  gave  the  power  of 
forgiving  sins. 

Jesus  Christ  shed  His  precious  blood  on  Calvary,  in  order  to  wash  out 
the  sins  of  the  world.  But,  though  He  thus  shed  His  blood,  still  He  ar- 
ranged that  this  blood,  so  shed,  should  be  applied  by  the  priest  to  the  soul 
of  each  individual  and  applied  by  means  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance,  as 
when  the  sinner  makes  his  confession.  It  was  after  the  shedding  on  Cal- 
vary {not  before  it)  that  Christ  instituted  confession,  and  this  is  an  irresist- 
ible argument  to  prove  that  Christ  meant  that  confession  was  necessary, 
in  order  to  apply  His  precious  blood  and  thereby  to  get  sins  forgiven. 
The  best  medicine  in  the  apothecary's  shop  will  not  cure  unless  it  be  ap- 
plied. If  Christ's  Blood,  as  shed  on  Calvary,  were  alone  sufficient  to  for- 
give sin,  should  not  Christ  Himself  know  it;  and,  knowing  it,  how  could 
He,  who  was  Truth  itself,  utter  the  lie  when  giving  the  commission  to 
His  Apostles:  "  Whose  ^\vis> you  retain,  they  are  retained !  " 

The  Church  has,  at  all  times,  preached  and  practiced  the  doctrine  of 
confession.  St.  Clement,  a  disciple  of  St.  Peter,  taught,  in  the  first  cen- 
tury, the  necessity  of  confession,  in  order  to  get  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 
Here  are  his  words :  "  St.  Peter  taught  that  we  must  reveal,  even  the  bad 
thoughts,  to  the  priests." 

Tertullian  taught  the  necessity  of  confession  in  the  second  century.  He 
said  :  "  Several  fail  to  tell  their  sins,  because  they  are  more  concerned  about 

their  honor  than  about  their  salvation What  is  better,  to  conceal 

your  sins  and  be  damned,  or  to  make  them  known  and  be  saved  ?  " 

Origen,  in  the  third  century,  taught :  "  If  we  are  sorry  for  our  sins, 
and,  if  we  confess  them  not  only  to  God,  but  also  to  those  who  have  a 
remedy  for  them,  then  they  shall  be  forgiven  us." 


478  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

St.  Ambrose,  in  the  fourth  century,  writes :  "  But,  they  say,  we  show 
reverence  to  the  Lord  by  reserving  to  Him  alone  the  power  of  forgiviog 
sins." 

Now,  no  one  can  more  grievously  offend  Him  than  they  who  would 
annul  His  commands  and  throw  upon  Him  the  duty  given  to  themselves. 
For,  since  the  Lord  Jesus  Himself  has  said  in  His  Gospel:  "Receive  ye 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  whose  sins  you  shall  forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them ; 
and  whose  sins  you  shall  retain,  they  are  retained ";  who  is  it  who 
honors  Him  the  more,  he  that  obeys  His  commands,  or  he  that  resists 
them? 

From  these,  and  from  countless  other  proofs,  we  clearly  see  that  con- 
fession is  no  new  doctrine  in  the  Catholic  Church.  Nor,  indeed,  would  it  be 
easy  for  any  man  to  introduce  such  a  doctrine,  repugnant  as  it  is  to  the 
feelings  of  human  nature,  without  having  some  general  reclamation,  or 
outcry,  raised  against  it.  History  records  no  such  introduction  or  recla- 
mation, and  this,  in  itself,  is  a  proof  that  confession  is  from  the  days  of 
Christ  and  His  Apostles. 

The  Catechism  of  the  Council  of  Trent  says :  *'  Nor  let  any  one  sup- 
pose that  confession  was,  indeed,  instituted  by  our  Lord,  but  yet  so  as 
not  to  impose  a  necessity  for  its  use;  for  the  faithful  are  to  hold,  that  he 
who  is  weighed  down  by  mortal  guilt,  must  be  recalled  to  spiritual  life 

by  the  Sacrament  of  Confession Mortal  sins,  as  we  have  already 

said,  although  even  buried  m  the  darkest  secrecy,  and  such  as  are  for- 
bidden only  by  the  two  last  commandments,  are,  all  and  each,  to  be  enu- 
merated" (Part  n.,  ch.  v.). 

A  confession  must  have  certain  qualities,  in  order  to  have  effect  in  remit- 
ting sin.     It  must  be,  i°,  humble.     In  confession  you  should  accuse  your- 
self as  a  criminal,  conscious  of  his  guilt.    You  should  not  be  throwing  the  ' 
blame  upon  others,  or  saying,  as  Adam  and  Eve,  that  it  was  this  one's 
fault  or  that  one's  fault. 

All  men  fall  into  sin.  Sin  is  the  common  malady  of  all.  It  is  the 
natural  and  legitimate  consequence  of  the  infirmity  of  human  nature. 
God  has  annexed  shame  to  sin,  so  that  it  may  be  a  barrier  to  it ;  but  the 
devil  manages  to  invert  this  order  of  things,  for  he  takes  away  the  shame 
when  the  sinner  is  about  to  commit  sin,  and  gives  it  back  when  the  sinner 
is  about  to  confess  it. 

2°.  Our  confession  must  be  entire,  that  is,  after  having  examined  our 
consciences  carefully,  we  must  tell,  in  confession,  all  the  mortal  sins  that 
we  recollect  and  which  have  not  been  remitted  in  a  good  confession.  We 
should  give  their  name,  and  number,  and  the  circumstances  which  in- 
crease or  lessen  the  guilt.  In  giving  the  number  of  mortal  sins,  care  must 
be  taken  to  give  the  exact  number,  if  possible ;  and,  if  you  cannot  know 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  479 

the  exact  number,  then  give  a  guess  at  the  number.  Never  use  such 
vague  and  unintelligible  words  as,  "  I  committed  such  a  sin  '  an  odd  time  '/ 
*  very  often  ';  '  a  good  many  times '/  '  not  often,'  etc.  Also,  if  you  have 
taken  another's  property,  tell  the  amount,  and  whether  you  have  yet 
restored  it.  If  you  have  injured  your  neighbor's  character  or  person,  tell 
to  what  extent,  and  whether  you  have  restored  the  injury  or  not.  A  con- 
fessor cannot  relieve  you  from  the  obligation  you  are  under  of  restoring 
your  neighbor's  property  or  character  as  soon  as  you  can  and  as  far  as 
possible.  "  The  sin  is  not  forgiven,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  unless  what 
was  taken  away  be, restored."  Nor  can  the  confessor  relieve  you  from  the 
obligation  of  telling  your  sins.  Whether  the  confessor  asks  you  or  not, 
you  are  bound  to  tell  every  mortal  sin.  If  you  wilfully  conceal  a  mortal 
sin  in  confession,  the  confession  is  bad ;  no  sin  is  forgiven ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  the  sinner  becomes  more  guilty  by  adding  to  his  former  guilt 
the  horrid  crime  of  sacrilege.  Such  confession  is  bad  and  sacrilegious 
and  has  to  be  made  all  over  again. 

But,  in  case  you  forget  telling  a  mortal  sin  after  having  made  a  due 
examination  of  conscience,  then  the  sins,  including  the  forgotten  one,  are 
forgiven  ;  and  the  sinner  has  only  to  tell  it  whenever  he  may  remember 
it  afterward  at  confession.  In  this  case  the  good  God  will  take  the  will 
for  the  deed. 

3°.  Our  confession  must  be  sincere :  we  must  confess  our  sins  just  as 
they  really  are,  without  adding  anything  to  them,  or  subtracting  any- 
thing from  them.  What  is  doubtful  should  be  told  as  doubtful ;  what  is 
certain,  told  as  certain  ;  what  is  grievous,  told  diS  grievous.  Sincerity  is  a 
beautiful  quality  in  any  person :  it  is  specially  beautiful  in  a  penitent  at 
confession.  St.  Gregory  says  :  '*  If  you  excuse  yourself,  God  will  accuse 
you;  if  you  accuse  yourself,  God  will  excuse  you." 

4°.  Our  confession  must  be  simple.  By  this  is  meant  that  we  must 
confine  ourselves  at  confession  exclusively  to  our  sins;  no  irrelevant  mat- 
ter must  be  brought  in  by  the  penitent,  no  more  than  by  the  confessor. 
The  names  of  persons  who  may  be  implicated  in  our  sins,  or  who  may  have 
given  us  scandal,  must,  on  no  account,  be  mentioned.  Charit^  strictly  re- 
quires this.  In  confession  we  should  have  nothing  to  say  about  any  per- 
son but  ourselves,  unless,  indeed,  it  be  absolutely  necessary  for  the  due 
declaration  of  our  sins ;  nor  must  we  mention,  or  even  suggest,  the  name 
of  a  person  of  whom  we  have  formed  a  rash  judgment.  And  the  con- 
fessor is  bound  at  once  to  check  the  penitent  if  he  finds  him  about  to 
make  any  such  disclosure.  To  have  the  confession  simple,  the  penitent 
must  confess  his  own  sins,  the  whole  of  his  own  sins,  and  nothing  but  his 
oivn  sins.  Behold,  my  brethren,  the  sacred  secrecy  to  be  observed  in  the 
tribunal  of  confession  !    Behold  how  jealous  the  Church  is  to  have  nothing 


480  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

said  or  done  that  would  make  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  odious  to  socie- 
ty! What  slaughter  of  souls  is  perpetrated  by  any /Jx/jf  zeal,  whereby 
this  sacrament  is  made  use  of  to  correct  the  absent !  Alas !  that  the  in- 
strument of  life  should  ever  be  converted  into  an  instrument  of  death ! 
That  you  may  know  the  truth,  let  us  here  state  that  the  confessional  can- 
not be  made  use  of  as  a  means  of  obtaining  knowledge.  And  should 
knowledge  of  the  sin  or  scandal  of  others  be  obtained  through  it,  direct- 
ly, or  even  indirectly,  it  cannot  be  made  use  of,  though  it  were  to  save 
the  life  of  a  man,  or  to  save  the  souls  of  the  whole  human  race.  Hence, 
a  priest  can  make  no  use  of  knowledge  received  directly,  or  even  indi- 
rectly, from  confession,  in  excluding  unworthy  persons  from  Holy  Orders, 
or  from  the  reception  of  any  other  sacrament,  or  from  offices  in  Church 
or  State.  Otherwise,  of  course,  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  would  suffer 
by  becoming  odious.  It  would  be  used  as  an  unamiable  spy.  What  the 
priest,  therefore,  knows  by  confession,  he  knows  less  than  what  he  does 
not  know  at  all.  He  must  act  as  if  he  had  no  knowledge  of  it.  Nor  if 
put  on  his  oath  can  he  divulge :  his  knowledge  is  not  communicable. 
The  seal  of  confession  requires  that  he  bear  to  be  cut  into  atoms,  or  suffer 
martyrdom,  as  St.  John  Nepomucen  did,  rather  than  divulge  one  tittle 
heard  in  confession.  Even  our  enemies  cannot  prove  that  the  seal  of 
confession  has  been  ever  violated :  God  has  specially  guarded  this  di- 
vine seal.  "  Let  the  priest  take  the  greatest  care,  neither  by  word  or 
sign,  nor  by  any  other  means  whatever,  in  the  least  degree  to  betray  the 
sinner";  such  is  the  warning  of  the  Council  of  Lateran. 

Again,  thanks  to  God,  the  Church  allows  liberty  of  conscience  to  even 
the  least  of  her  children.  To  prevent  possible  sacrilege  she  desires  that 
every  one  should  have  liberty  in  choosing  a  confessor.  And  whilst  the 
penitent  has  this  liberty,  the  confessor,  on  the  other  hand,  cannot,  with- 
out committing  sin,  ask  any  penitent  to  go  to  confession  to  himself  rather 
than  to  any  other.  This  is  but  right.  God  wishes  sinners  to  be  brought 
to  heaven ;  and  no  priest  can  tell  whether  it  is  himself,  or  not,  that  God 
has  intended  to  be  the  guide.  What,  if  one  priest  were  appointed  by 
God  for  the'purpose,  and  the  devil  succeeded  in  getting  the  guidance  of 
the  soul  taken  out  of  that  priest's  hands  !  Alas !  what  a  victory  then  for 
the  devil !  Oh !  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God  in  guarding  the  Sacra- 
ment of  Penance  from  the  dangers  of  this  kind,  which  continually  hang 
over  it.  Would  that  we  could  join  from  this  moment  with  the  saints  in 
heaven,  in  singing  for  eternity  the  praises  thus  due  to  God  ! 

The  third  commandment  of  the  Church  obliges  all  who  have  come  to 
the  use  of  reason  to  go  to  confession  at  least  once  a  year.  Monthly  con- 
fession is  recommended  very  strongly  to  all.  St.  Francis  de  Sales  went 
to  confession  every  day.     He  was  anxious  that  his  soul  should  be  always 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  481 

shining  with  the  lustre  and  beauty  of  grace.  What  care  we  take  to  have 
our  faces  and  hands  washed  frequently :  but  the  hands  and  the  face  are 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  soul.  There  is  no  beauty  on  earth  to  com- 
pare with  the  nameless  beauty  of  the  grace  of  God,  as  it  shines  out 
through  the  face  of  a  truly  pious  man  or  woman.  The  hypocrite's  face 
sadly  lacks  this  beauty  :  he  has  the  brass,  but  not  the  gold.  By  mortal 
sin,  all  the  merits  and  good  works  of  our  life  become  dead :  by  a  good 
confession  they  at  once  revive. 

The  advantages  arising  from  confession  are  many  and  great.  By 
confession,  sin  is  forgiven  and  grace  restored ;  good  works,  dead  through 
sin,  revive.  Pride  is  the  root  of  all  sin  and  evil ;  confession  is  a  work  of 
humiliation ;  therefore,  it  strikes  at  the  root  of  all  sin.  Confession  is  a 
check  to  vice ;  it  is  a  support  to  virtue ;  it  protects  society.  How  many 
jealousies  and  quarrels  are  prevented  or  cured  by  confession  ?  How  many 
injustices  or  scandals  are  prevented  by  it?  Restitution  of  money  and 
property  and  character  are  the  happy  results  of  confession.  The  would- 
be  Reformers,  themselves,  acknowledge  the  advantages  arising  from  con- 
fession. Luther  says :  "  The  world  grows  worse  and  worse,  and  becomes 
more  wicked  every  day.  Men  are  now  more  given  to  revenge,  more 
avaricious,  more  devoid  of  mercy,  less  modest  and  more  incorrigible ;  in 
fine,  more  wicked  than  in  the  Papacy."  Bucer  says  :  "  The  greater  part 
of  the  people  seem  to  have  embraced  the  (Protestant)  Gospel,  only  to 
live  at  their  pleasure  and  to  enjoy  their  lusts  and  lawless  appetites  with- 
out control."  Speaking  of  confession,  the  Catechism  of  the  Council  of 
Trent  says :  "  The  great  care  and  assiduity  which  pastors  should  devote 
to  its  exposition  will  be  easily  understood  if  we  reflect  that,  in  the  general 
opinion  of  the  pious,  to  Confession  is,  in  a  great  measure,  to  be  ascribed 
whatever  of  holiness,  piety,  and  religion  has  been  preserved  in  the  Church 
in  our  times,  through  the  boundless  beneficence  of  God  ;  so  that  to  no  one 
ought  it  be  matter  of  surprise  that  the  enemy  of  the  human  race,  in  his 
efforts  to  overthrow  to  its  foundation  the  Catholic  Faith,  should,  through 
the  agency  of  the  ministers  and  satellites  of  his  impiety,  have  endeavored 
to  assail  with  all  his  might  this  citadel,  as  it  were,  of  Christian  virtue." 

Let  us  then,  my  brethren,  make  good  use  of  confession.  Let  us  not 
be  kept  from  it  by  sloth,  nor  by  fear,  nor  by  false  shame.  It  is  an  awful 
thing  to  go  to  sleep  at  night  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin.  What  if  you  awake 
to  find  yourself  surrounded  by  the  seething  flames  of  hell !  If  there  were 
a  coal  of  fire  upon  your  foot,  would  you  be  too  lazy  to  throw  it  off?  If 
you  were  drowning,  and  a  saving  plank  were  extended  to  you,  would 
you  step  upon  it?  It  is  easier  to  confess  to  one  individual,  tied  up  by  all 
the  laws  of  secrecy,  human  and  divine,  than  to  have  to  confess  before  the 
whole  world  hereafter. 


482  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Why  should  you  be  ashamed  to  confess  your  sins  ?  Why  not  take  the 
shame  off  yourself  and  put  it  upon  Satan  ?  When  the  devil  is  tempting 
the  sinner  to  fall,  he  takes  away  the  shame  from  him  ;  but  when  he  is  going 
to  make  a  confession,  the  devil  hastily  gives  back  the  shame.  Let  no  one 
be  ashamed,  then.  The  power  of  forgiving  sin  has  not  been  given  by 
God  to  an  angel,  or  to  a  saint,  but  to  man,  frail  human  creature,  tempted 
and  subject  to  fall  like  every  one  else  ;  and,  therefore,  disposed  to  feel 
compassion  for  the  sinner,  and  to  be  full  of  mercy.  St.  Peter,  the  chief 
and  head  of  the  priesthood,  was  permitted  to  fall  into  terrible  sin,  in 
order  to  teach  a  lesson  to  all.     St.  Augustine  cries  out :  "  He  who  hears 

your  sins  is  a  sinner  like  you,  and  perhaps  a  greater Why,  then,  do 

you  fear,  O  sinner!  to  confess  to  man  and  a  sinner?  Ah,  my  brethren, 
why  should  we  be  so  foolish  as  to  die  in  shame  and  pain,  rather  than 
discover  some  hidden  wound  to  a  loving  physician,  who  is  able  to  cure 
us?" 

Though  your  sins  were  as  numerous  as  the  countless  blades  of  grass 
that  are  in  the  world,  and  though  they  were  as  shameful  and  enormous 
as  that  nothing  could  be  considered  greater,  yet  God,  in  His  Sacrament 
of  Penance,  forgives  them  all !  In  this  sacrament  the  meekness,  and 
patience,  and  benignity,  and  winning  love  of  Jesus,  all  meet  as  in  their 
centre.  Here  His  Precious  Blood  works  silently,  invisibly,  with  a 
heavenly  pathos  around  it,  fitting  the  soul  for  Heaven,  and  imparting  to 
it  the  fragrance  which  is  experienced  by  the  blessed  in  the  society  of 
Jesus  in  Paradise. 

Judging  by  the  way  that  Jesus  acts,  it  would  appear  that  He  cannot 
help  being  sweet,  and  tender,  and  touching,  and  beautiful  beyond  all  com- 
parison in  His  dealings  with  the  penitent  sinner.  Even  as  we  write,  how 
the  angels  with  their  silver  trumpets  sound  forth  in  heaven  the  mercies 
of  God  displayed  in  the  Sacrament  of  Penance ! 

If  there  were  only  one  man  in  the  whole  world  who  had  the  power 
given  him  to  forgive  sin,  should  we  not  praise  God  for  that  favor,  even 
though  the  poor,  and  the  sick,  and  the  feeble  were  unable  to  go  to  the 
spot  where  that  one  man  lived,  to  get  their  sins  forgiven  ?  God  has 
multiplied  His  favors.  He  has  multiplied  His  priests:  all  can  have  access 
to  them.  The  unsetting  sun  of  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  shines  upon 
one  and  it  shines  upon  all  at  the  same  time :  praise  forever  to  God.    - 

In  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  Jesus  remains  as  a  Physician,  inviting 
all  who  are  laboring  against  temptations  and  heavily  laden  with  sin  to 
come  and  He  will  refresh  and  heal  them.  In  this  sacrament  Jesus  is  the 
Father  running  with  joy  in  His  eyes  to  meet  His  prodigal  son  whom  He 
sees  returning.  In  this  sacrament  Jesus  gives  again  the  same  sweet  look 
of  forgiveness  which  He  gave  once  before  to  Mary  Magdalene  the  sinner. 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 


483 


In  this  sacrament  Jesus  is  the  Good  Shepherd  climbing  the  hills  in  search 
of  the  lost  sheep,  and,  finding  it,  claps  His  hands  and  leaps  for  joy,  and 
placing  it  fondly  upon  His  shoulders  returns  home  to  the  Fold  rejoicing. 
Behold  I  have  found  my  sheep  that  was  lost.  Wherever  there  is  a  con- 
fession made,  there  is  Jesus  present,  silently  and  invisibly,  saying  to  the 
confessor :  "  Whose  sins  you  shall  forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them " 
{John  XX.  22). 


i^^^^ 

i 

m 

Wl 

1 

w^-mMm. 

iR^^i^a™^^ 

ON   INDULGENCES. 

*'Thou  art  Peter And  I  will  give  to  thee  the  kejrs  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

And  whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind  upon  earth,  it  shall  be  bound  also  in  heaven ; 
and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth,  it  shall  be  loosed  also  in  heaven." — 
Matt.  xvi.  i8,  etc.  , 

jN  sin,  my  brethren,  there  are  two  things  to  be  clearly  distin- 
guished :  first,  the  guilt  or  injury  which  is  done  to  God  by  sin ; 
and,  secondly,  the  punishment  due  to  the  sinner  on  account  of 
that  guilt.  The  guilt  of  mortal  sin,  and  the  eternal  punish- 
ment due  to  it,  is,  as  you  know,  remitted  by  the  Sacrament  of  Penance, 
and  even  by  an  act  of  perfect  contrition  whenever  there  is  not  an  oppor- 
tunity of  receiving  the  sacrament.  But,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  tem- 
poral punishment  is  always  remitted  with  the  remission  of  the  eternal 
punishment.  For,  although  David  was  assured  by  the  Prophet  Nathan 
that  the  Lord  had  taken  away  his  sin,  and  that  he  should  not  die,  still,  as 
a  temporal  punishment,  God  punished  him  with  the  death  of  the  child  of 
his  adultery,  and  with  the  rebellion,  and  death  also,  of  his  dearly-beloved 
son,  Absalom,  and  with  many  other  punishments  and  calamities  (2  Kings 
xii.).  There  are  several  instances  of  the  same  up  and  down  through  the 
Scriptures.  St.  Augustine,  in  his  commentary  on  Psalm  1.,  says:  "Thou, 
O  Lord,  dost  not  leave  unpunished  the  sins  of  even  those  to  whom  Thou 
grantest  pardon  ";  that  is,  pardon  of  the  eternal  punishment. 

Now,  God  sends  this  temporal  punishment  in  a  thousand  different 
ways ;  and  you  will  ask :  How  is  it  to  be  averted  from  us,  and  cancelled  ? 
We  can  cancel  it,  my  brethren,  {a)  by  performing  the  penance  which  the 
priest  enjoins  upon  us  when  he  gives  us  absolution.  This  reparation  of 
the  injury  done  to  God  by  sin,  is  called  satisfaction.  Satisfaction  is  sacra- 
mental or  voluntary.  Sacramental  satisfaction  is  a  part  of  the  Sacrament 
of  Penance.  It  consists  in  performing  the  prayers,  or  fasts,  or  other  good 
works  which  the  priest  enjoins  upon  the  penitent  who  receives  absolution. 
This  penance,  so  enjoined,  should  be  in  proportion  to  the  enormity  of  the 
sins.  St.  Thomas  says :  "  If  the  priest  impose  a  less  penance  than  the 
sins  deserve,  the  penitent  is  obliged  to  do  more ;  and  if  he  neglect  to  do 
it  in  this  life,  he  must  suffer  it  in  Purgatory." 

When  the  priest  gives  absolution  he  adds :  "  Whatever  good  you  shall 
(484) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  485 

do,  or  whatever  evil  you  shall  suffer,  let  it  be  toward  the  remission  of " 
(the  temporal  punishment  due  to)  "your  sins."  The  pious  endeavors  of 
a  penitent  constitute  the  voluntary  satisfaction.  These  will  supply  what- 
ever may  be  wanting  in  the  penances  imposed  by  the  confessor  toward 
the  satisfaction  for  our  sins. 

Temporal  punishment  can  be  cancelled,  {b)  by  prayer,  fasting,  and 
alms-deeds,  as  St.  Thomas  says.  And  under  this  head  are  included: 
pious  reading,  meditation,  retreats,  visits  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  hear- 
ing Holy  Mass;  bearing  patiently  the  sorrows  sent  us  by  God;  mortifi- 
cations of  body  and  spirit  voluntarily  undertaken  by  ourselves,  abstaining 
from  intoxicating  drinks  or  dainty  food,  etc.;  by  feeding  the  hungry,  har- 
boring the  harborless,  visiting  those  who  are  sick,  or  sore,  or  in  prison,  bury- 
ing the  dead,  giving  drink  to  the  thirsty,  clothing  the  naked,  protecting 
those  wrongfully  accused  and  persecuted,  comforting  the  afflicted,  instruct- 
ing the  ignorant,  correcting  sinners,  forgiving  injuries,  etc.  {c)  We  can 
cancel  the  temporal  punishment  by  gaining  indulgences. 

An  indulgence  is  3,  remission  of  the  whole  or  part  of  the  temporal 
punishment  due  to  sin.  Indulgences  are  of  two  kinds :  plenary  and 
partial. 

A  plenary  indulgence  remits  the  whole  of  the  temporal  punishment 
due  to  sin.  A  person  dying  immediately  after  having  received  a  plenary 
indulgence,  would  go  at  once  straight  to  heaven.  A  jubilee  is  a  form  of 
plenary  indulgence  which  is  granted  every  twenty-five  years,  and  also  on 
some  other  occasions,  to  all  the  faithful  who  shall  comply  with  the  condi- 
tions laid  down  by  the  Pope  who  grants  the  jubilee.  At  such  times  all 
confessors  have  extended  faculties ;  they  can  absolve  from  almost  all  re- 
served cases,  and  commute  vows. 

A /^r/m/ indulgence,  as  the  name  implies,  is  a  remission  of  such  part 
of  the  temporal  punishment  as  would  have  been  remitted  in  the  early 
ages  of  the  Church  by  the  canonical  penances  then  undergone  by  the  sin- 
ner for  a  certain  specified  length  of  time.  For  instance,  an  indulgence  of 
lOO  days  is  a  partial  indulgence.  And  it  means  that  when  it  is  obtained, 
there  is  as  much  of  the  temporal  punishment  cancelled,  or  atoned  for,  as 
would  formerly  have  been  by  a  canonical  penance  enjoined  by  the  Church 
for  100  days.  In  like  manner,  an  indulgence  of  seven  quarantines  means 
that,  as  much  temporal  punishment  is  atoned  for  as  would  be  by  the  aus- 
terities of  seven  Lents  (forty  days  each),  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church, 
In  the  beginning,  all  canonical  penances  were  imposed  for  "■years  and 
days"  not  for  " weeks  or  months." 

The  canonical  penances  imposed  then  were  very  severe.  For  instance, 
any  person  who  had  talked  or  laughed  in  church,  during  divine  service, 
had  to  fast  for  ten  days  on  bread  and  water.    Any  person  who  had  cursed 


486  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

his  parents,  had  to  fast  for  forty  days.  The  canonical  penance  for  the 
sin  of  fornication  was  three  years,  and  for  the  sin  of  adultery,  five, 
and  sometimes  seven  years.  And  during  these  years  the  penitent  was 
not  allowed  to  receive  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  and  had,  moreover,  to  stand 
at  the  church  door  on  Sundays  and  holydays  dressed  in  a  penitential 
habit,  and  asking  the  prayers  of  the  faithful  as  they  passed  in  and  out. 
Is  the  Divine  Justice  changed  since  that  time?  Or  is  it  more  easily  sat- 
isfied now  than  then  ?     God  is  unchangeable ! 

But  how  much  exactly,  or  how  little,  of  the  temporal  punishment, 
whether  here  or  in  Purgatory,  is  atoned  for  by  a  partial  indulgence,  God 
alone  knows.  No  man  has  any  knowledge  of  it  whatsoever.  It  is  a 
mystery  locked  up  in  the  mind  of  God. 

A  partial  indulgence  granted  by  any  of  the  Popes,  scarcely  ever  ex- 
ceeds twenty  years.  The  Raccolta  and  Maurel  "  On  Indulgences,"  give 
a  long  list  of  indulgences  which  can  be  easily  gained.  Amongst  them,  we 
find  that  Benedict  XIV.  granted,  1756,  an  indulgence  of  seven  years  and 
seven  quarantines  every  time  a  person  assisted  at  a  sermon  preached  in 
the  church  on  Sundays  or  holydays;  Gregory  XVI.  granted  an  indul- 
gence of  300  days  to  any  one  who  circulated  a  good  book  ;  Benedict  XIII. 
granted  an  indulgence  to  every  one  who  says  the  Angelus ;  and  there  is 
an  indulgence  of  300  days  for  saying  the  Litany  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
Mary;  and  the  Stations  of  the  Cross  are  enriched  with  all  the  same  indul- 
gences as  may  be  gained  by  visiting  in  person  the  sacred  places  in  Jeru- 
salem. 

The  Catholic  Church  has  received  from  her  Divine  Founder  the  power 
of  granting  indulgences.  She  can  remit  the  temporal  punishment  of  sin 
as  well  as  the  sin  itself.  And  Jesus  coming  spoke  to  His  disciples  saying : 
"  All  power  is  given  to  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth  "  (Matt,  xxviii.  18) ;  "  as 
the  Father  hath  sent  me,  I  also  send  you  "  (John  xx.  21);  therefore, 
"  whatsoever  "  [as  to  guilt  or  as  to  punishment]  "  thou  shalt  bind  upon 
earth,  it  shall  be  bound  also  in  heaven ;  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose 
on  earth,  it  shall  be  loosed  also  in  heaven  "  (Matt.  xvi.  19). 

By  virtue  of  this  received  power  of  "  loosing,"  St.  Paul  (though  not 
one  of  the  Twelve  Apostles,  but  merely  a  successor  of  them)  granted  a 
plenary  indulgence  to  the  poor,  incestuous  Corinthian. 

First,  he  imposed  a  public  penance  upon  him  (i  Cor  v.  5),  but  then, 
hearing  that  he  was  very  repentant,  he  gave  him  a  plenary  indulgence : 
*'  To  him  that  is  such  an  one,"  said  he,  "  this  rebuke  is  sufficient.  For, 
what  I  have  pardoned,  if  I  have  pardoned  anything,  for  your  sakes  have 
I  done  it  in  the  person  of  Christ "  (2  Cor.  xxvi.  10). 

The  Church,  in  absolving  the  sinner  from  the  guilt  of  his  sin  by  the 
Sacrament  of  Penance,  and  then  afterward  remitting  the  temporal  punish- 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  487 

ment  still  remaining  due  to  the  sin,  exercises  that  twofold  power  which 
Christ  Himself  exercised  toward  the  paralytic  mentioned  in  St.  John. 
Christ  forgave,  first  the  sin,  and  secondly  the  temporal  punishment,  or 
bodily  infirmity  which  had  been  inflicted  as  a  temporal  punishment  on 
account  of  the  sin.  "  Behold,  thou  art  made  whole ;  sin  no  more  lest 
some  worse  thing  happen  thee  "  (John  v.  14). 

John  Wickliffe  and  the  Hussites  denied  to  the  Church  the  power  of 
granting  indulgences.  And,  later  on,  Martin  Luther  denied  it  also, 
though,  before  his  fall,  he  said  :  "  If  any  one  denies  the  truth  of  the  Pope's 
indulgences,  let  him  be  anathema ! "  Indulgences  may,  of  course,  like 
every  other  good  thing,  be  abused.  And  they  were  sometimes  for  the 
sake  of  sordid  gain.  The  abuse,  however,  is  not  to  be  confounded  with 
the  legitimate  use  of  indulgences.  The  Council  of  Trent  has,  in  a  nut- 
shell, expounded  the  Sacred  Scriptures  on  this  subject,  and  has  set  the 
question  at  rest  forever.  It  says:  "Seeing  the  power  of  granting  indul- 
gences was  given  to  the  Church  by  Christ ;  and  the  Church,  in  the  most 
early  ages,  did  make  use  of  this  power  as  received  from  Him,  the  most 
holy  Synod  teaches  and  commands,  that  the  use  of  indulgences,  which  is 
highly  beneficial  to  the  Christian  people,  and  approved  of  by  the  au- 
thority of  the  Sacred  Councils,  shall  be  retained  in  the  Church ;  and  con- 
demns and  anathematizes  those  who  either  pronounce  them  unprofitable,  or 
deny  the  power  of  the  Church  to  graut  them  "  (Sess.  25). 

To  gain  an  indulgence  it  is  necessary  to  be  in  a  state  of  grace,  or,  in 
other  words,  to  be  free,  at  least,  from  the  guilt  of  mortal  sin ;  and,  further- 
more, we  must  be  sincerely  desirous  to  amend  our  lives,  and  satisfy  God's 
justice  by  penitential  works.  But  from  this,  let  no  one  be  misled  to 
imagine  that  good  works  performed  by  a  person  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin 
are  useless.  No ;  they  are  not  useless.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  most 
useful,  and  even  necessary,  in  order  to  disarm  the  anger  of  God,  and  pro- 
cure the  grace  of  conversion.  Indulgences  presuppose  penitential  works. 
We  shall  never  be  saved  unless  we  "  bring  forth  fruit  worthy  of  penance" 
(Matt.  iii.  8).  Penitential  works  and  indulgences  should  act  and  react 
upon  each  other.  Libermann,  in  his  theological  treatise  on  Penance,  chap, 
iv.,  lays  down  the  following  practical  doctrine :  "  The  safer  way  is  this,  to 
be  so  intent  upon  doing  works  of  penance,  as  if  no  remedy  were  to  be  ob- 
tained from  indulgences ;  and  to  be  so  earnest  in  gaining  indulgences, 
as  if  nothing  were  to  be  expected  from  our  own  works." 

Indulgences,  therefore,  do  not  give  a  pardon  for  past  sins,  nor  do  they 
give  a  license  to  commit  sin.  To  prevent  mistakes,  let  it  be  clearly  un- 
derstood that  indulgences  will  not  save  you  if  you  die  in  mortal  sin ;  for 
they  cannot  be  of  any  service  ever,  nor  can  they  be  possibly  gained,  until 
we  are  first  free  from  mortal  sin. 


488  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

The  conditions  prescribed  for  gaining  any  particular  indulgence  must 
be  all  accurately  fulfilled :  like  in  a  chain  there  must  be  no  link  missing. 
Whilst  performing  the  conditions  you  must  always  have  the  intention  of 
gaining  the  indulgence. 

This  intention  must  be,  at  least,  virtual.  Hence,  if  we  form  an  actual 
intention  every  morning  of  gaining  all  the  indulgences  that  may  be  at- 
tached to  whatever  good  works  or  devotions  we  may  perform  during  that 
day ;  such  intention  will  continue  virtually  during  the  day,  and  will  suffice 
to  gain  the  indulgences  attached  to  all  our  good  works  of  that  day. 

When  the  Church  grants  indulgences  she  acts  as  a  tender-hearted 
mother  does  toward  her  children :  when  she  sees  them  in  danger  and 
affliction  she  runs  to  their  rescue.  God,  of  course,  sends  the  temporal 
punishments,  in  order  to  have  some  atonement  made  both  to  Himself 
and  to  His  Church,  as  both  are  offended  by  sin.  He  also  sends  them 
punishments,  in  order  to  recall  the  sinner  and  to  deter  him  from  relaps- 
ing; and,  further,  to  make  him  be  more  cautious  and  watchful  for  the 
future.  The  Church,  on  the  other  hand,  seeing  this  divine  "  rebuke  is 
sufficient "  (2  Cor.  ii.  6),  steps  in,  as  St.  Paul  did,  and,  for  the  sake  of  the 
faithful,  grants  the  indulgence,  by  happily  drawing  upon  the  treasury  at 
her  disposal ;  and  so,  instead  of  our  poor  works  of  atonement,  she  offers 
the  infinite  and  superabundant  satisfactions  of  our  Divine  Redeemer, 
together  with  the  good  works  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  of  all  the  saints. 
"These  satisfactions"  can  never  be  exhausted,  let  the  Church  draw  from 
them  what  she  will.  Thus,  by  indulgences,  the  "  keys  "  given  to  the  Church 
are  made  right  use  of  for  the  welfare  of  the  faithful,  and  sufficient  and 
acceptable  compensation  is  made  to  the  offended  justice  of  God. 

Ah !  my  brethren,  let  us  now,  whilst  we  have  time,  make  a  good  use 
of  indulgences.  They  are  most  useful.  Who  can  tell  what  an  amount 
of  temporal  punishment  we  may  have  standing  against  us  on  account  of 
our  sins?  "  The  just  man  falls  seven  times."  We  have  sinned  not  once 
or  twice  only,  as  Adam,  or  Moses,  or  David,  who  were  visited  with  so 
much  temporal  punishment  for  their  sins.  We  have,  every  day,  com- 
mitted venial  sins,  and,  alas !  perhaps  it  would  not  be  too  far  from  the 
truth  to  say  we  have  fallen  into  many  mortal  sins !  If  David's  sin  of 
vanity  deserved  to  be  punished,  as  it  was,  by  a  pestileftce  causing  seventy 
thousand  deaths  (!)  what  must  be  the  punishment  in  store  for  you,  and 
for  me,  on  account  of  all  the  sins  we  have  committed  during  the  days  of 
the  years  of  our  lives  upon  the  earth !  God's  justice  is  essentially  the 
same  now  as  it  was  in  David'-s  time.  "  He  is  the  same  yesterday,  and 
to-day,  and  forever."  Little  wonder  that  the  pen  should  tremble  in  our 
hands  as  we  write  these  words  regarding  the  dreadful  punishment  that 
may  be  awaiting  us  on  account  of  our  sins !    The  temporal  punishment 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  489 

on  earth  is  bad  enough,  but  in  Purgatory  it  is  worse  still.  The  torments 
in  Purgatory,  according  to  many  of  the  Saints  and  Fathers  of  the  Church, 
are,  whilst  they  last,  just  as  severe  as  those  in  hell,  in  every  particular 
except  one,  and  that  is,  in  Purgatory  there  is  hope  of  deliverance  some 
time,  whereas  in  hell  there  is  no  such  hope  forever. 

Which  is  it  easier,  my  brethren,  to  suffer  afiflictions,  and  crosses,  and 
disappointments,  and  humiliations  in  this  life,  and  pains  in  Purgatory,  or 
to  comply  with  the  easy  conditions  for  gaining  Indulgences? 

When  a  wise  man  knows  that  there  is  a  thunderstorm  going  to  burst 
upon  him,  he  will  run  at  once  to  the  place  where  shelter  is  to  be  found. 
The  fool  will  stand  his  ground,  and  will  do  so  just  because  he  is  a  fool. 

Let  us  all,  then,  my  brethren,  praise  God  forever  for  His  unspeakable 
mercy  and  love,  in  first  forgiving  us  the  guilt  of  sin,  and,  secondly, 
forgiving  us  by  indulgences  the  temporal  punishment  remaining  due. 
Let  us  ascend  to  the  top  of  the  highest  mountain  on  earth  and  call  aloud 
upon  all  men,  and  upon  all  other  creatures  besides,  to  join  with  us  in 
proclaiming  God's  boundless  love  for  man,  as  displayed  in  the  work  of 
indulgences.  No  pen  can  tell,  no  mind  can  think,  how  grateful  for 
indulgences  all  those  are  who  have  escaped  Purgatory,  or  have  been 
rescued  from  it,  by  means  of  Indulgences.  No  pen  can  tell,  no  mind  can 
contemplate,  with  what  ecstatic  rapture  these  happy  souls,  now  in  heaven, 
gaze  upon  the  beauteous  face  of  God,  and  how  they  thank  Him,  millions 
of  times  over,  for  having  given  to  His  Church  upon  earth  the  knowledge 
of  indulgences,  and  the  use  of  the  "  keys "  by  which  they  are  granted. 
"  I  will  give  to  thee  the  KEYS  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  ....  and 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth,  it  shall  be  loosed  also  in  heaven 
(Matt.  xvi.).     Amen. 

LIST  OF  INDULGENCES. 

We  consider  it  would  be  useful  for  many  of  our  pious  readers  to  have 
some  of  the  principal  indulgences  that  can  be  gained  by  the  recitation  of 
the  Rosary  set  forth  before  their  eyes.  The  merchant  often  succeeds  by 
placing  his  goods  before  the  view  of  the  public ;  the  merchant's  goods, 
however,  are  but  of  the  earth,  earthly,  whereas  indulgences  are  links  of  a 
divine  chain  leading  from  earth  to  heaven.  Let  each  person,  then,  select 
for  himself. 

DOMINICAN  INDULGENCES. 

The  following  Indulgences  may  be  gained  by  those  using  a  beads 
enriched  with  the  Dominican  Indulgences : 

I.  One  Hundred   Days   Indulgence   is  granted  for  each  Our 


490  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Father  and  for  each  Hail,  Mary !  to  every  person  who  says  five  decades- 
of  the  Rosary. 

II.  An  Indulgence  of  Ten  Years  and  Ten  Quarantines  is 
granted  to  every  person  who  joins  with,  at  least,  one  other  in  reciting 
five  decades. 

III.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  is  granted,  once  a  year,  on  any  day 
thereof,  to  any  person  who  says  five  decades  each  day,  for  a  year,  and 
complies  with  the  usual  conditions.  By  the  words,  "  usual  conditions" 
we  mean  a  good  confession  and  worthy  communion,  together  with  a 
prayer  in  accordance  with  the  intention  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff. 

IV.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  is  also  granted  to  every  person,  on 
the  usual  conditions,  who,  not  being  a  member  of  the  Confraternity  of 
the  Rosary,  is  in  the  habit  of  joining  in  the  recitation  of  five  decades,  at 
least,  three  times  a  week. 

BRIGITTINE   INDULGENCES. 

Those  who  recite  the  beads,  enriched  with  the  Brigittine  Indulgences^ 
can  gain  the  following : 

I.  One  Hundred  Days  Indulgence  for  each  Our  Father  and 
each  Hail,  Mary!  when,  at  least,  five  decades  are  said.  There  is  an 
Indulgence,  also,  of  one  hundred  days,  when  the  Creed  is  said. 

II.  An  Indulgence  of  Seven  Years  and  Seven  Quarantines- 
is  gained  by  saying  the  whole  Rosary  of  fifteen  decades, 

III.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  is  gained  once  a  month  by  every- 
person  who  complies  with  the  usual  conditions  and  is  in  the  habit  of 
saying  five  decades  every  day. 

IV.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  may  be  gained  once  a  year,  on  any 
day,  by  every  person  who  shall  comply  with  the  usual  conditions,  and 
say,  at  least,  five  decades,  once  a  day,  for  a  year. 

V.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  is  granted,  at  the  hour  of  death,  and 
also  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Bridget  (8th  October),  to  those  who  are  in  the 
habit  of  saying  five  decades  once  a  week,  and  who  shall  comply  with  the 
usual  conditions. 

Those  who  do  not  recite,  but  merely  carry  the  Brigittine  beads,  can 
gain: 

{a).  An  Indulgence  of  Twenty  Days,  if,  being  truly  sorry  for 
their  sins,  they  make  an  examination  of  conscience  and  say  three  times 
the  Our  Father  and  Hail,  Mary  ! 

{b).  An  Indulgence  of  Forty  Days,  if,  when  they  hear  the  beH 
tolling  for  some  departing  soul,  they  kneel  down  and  offer  a  prayer  for 
that  soul. 

{c).  One  Hundred  Days  Indulgence  if  they  hear  Mass,  or  assist 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  491 

at  a  sermon,  or  accompany  a  priest  as  he  carries  the  Viaticum  to  a  sick 
person,  or  help  in  the  conversion  of  a  sinner,  or  perform  any  other  good 
work  in  honor  of  our  Lord,  or  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or  St.  Bridget,  and,  in 
addition,  say  three  times  the  Our  Father  and  Hail,  Mary ! 

THE  APOSTOLIC  INDULGENCES. 

When  a  beads  has  been  blessed  and  enriched  with  the  Apostolic 
Indulgences,  it  can  be  used  as  a  powerful  instrument  to  remove  temporal 
punishment.  This  is  evident,  from  the  following  Indulgences  granted  to- 
those  who  wish  to  gain  them : 

1°.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  is  granted,  on  the  usual  conditions,  ta 
those  who  say  five  decades,  at  least,  once  a  week ;  and  it  may  be  gained 
on  {a),  The  Epiphany;  {b\  Easter  Sunday;  (^),  Ascension  Thursday; 
{d\  Whit  Sunday ;  {e),  Trinity  Sunday ;  (/"),  Corpus  Christi ;  (^),  The 
Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary;  (^),  her  Purifica- 
tion ;  {i\  The  Annunciation  ;  (y),  her  Assumption ;  (/^),  her  Nativity ;  (/), 
The  Nativity  of  St.  John  the  Baptist ;  {m),  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paulas  Day^ 
29th  June;  («),  St.  Andrew's  Day,  30th  November;  ip),  The  Feast  of  St. 
James,  25th  July;  (/),  St.  John,  27th  December;  {q),  St.  Thomas,  21st 
December;  (r),  St.  Philip  and  St.  James,  ist  May;  {$),  St.  Bartholomew,. 
24th  August;  (/),  St.  Matthew,  21st  September;  («),  St.  Simon  and  St. 
Jude,  28th  October;  {v),  St.  Matthias,  24th  or  25th  of  February;  {w\  St. 
Joseph,  19th  March;  {x\  All  Saints,  1st  November;  and  (7),  Christmas 
Day. 

2®.  An  Indulgence  of  Seven  Years  and  Seven  Quarantines 
is  granted  to  all  those  who  say  five  decades  on  any  other  Feast  of  our 
Lord  or  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  besides  those  above  named. 

3".  An  Indulgence  of  Five  Years  and  Five  Quarantines  is 
granted  to  all  those  who  say  five  decades  on  any  other  Feast  Day,  or 
Sunday,  throughout  the  year. 

4*=*.  An  Indulgence  of  One  Hundred  Days  to  any  one  who  says 
five  decades  on  any  other  day. 

5°.  An  Indulgence  of  One  Hundred  Days  to  those  who  are  in 
the  habit  of  saying  five  decades  at  least  once  a  week. 

indulgences  of  the  living  rosary. 

1°.  Besides  the  Plenary  Indulgence,  granted  on  the  first  festival 
after  the  day  of  enrolment,  there  is  a  plenary  indulgence  granted,  on  the 
usual  conditions,  to  all  those  who  say  the  decade  assigned  to  them,  asd 
it  can  be  gained  on  {a),  Christmas  Day  ;  {b\  The  Circumcision  ;  {c\  The 
Epiphany ;    {a).   The   Resurrection ;    {e\  The   Ascension ;    (/),   Corpus 


492 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


Christi ;  {g),  Pentecost  Sunday ;  {h),  Trinity  Sunday ;  {i),  all  the  Feasts 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin  ;  (/),  the  Feasts  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul ;  {k),  and 
of  all  the  Saints. 

2°.  A  Plenary  Indulgence  can  also  be  gained  on  the  same  condi- 
tions, once  a  month,  on  the  third  Sunday. 

3°.  An  Indulgence  of  Seven  Years  and  Seven  Quarantines 
is  granted  on  the  day  of  recitation  to  those  who  recite  their  portion  of 
the  Rosary,  {a),  on  the  Sundays  throughout  the  year ;  {b),  on  Festival 
Days,  including  those  Feasts  upon  which  the  hearing  of  Mass  is  no  longer 
of  obligation ;  {c),  during  the  octaves  of  Christmas,  Easter,  Corpus 
Christi,  Whitsuntide,  the  Conception,  Nativity,  and  Assumption  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin. 

4°.  An  Indulgence  of  One  Hundred  Days  is  granted  to  those 
who  recite  their  portion  of  the  Rosary  on  days  upon  which  no  Festival 
occurs. 

Christ  has  given  His  Church  the  power  of  granting  indulgences,  and, 
judging  by  the  number,  and  variety,  and  richness  of  these  indulgences, 
the  CHurch  has  most  generously  used  her  power.  The  removal  of  tem- 
poral punishment  is  thus  within  the  reach  of  every  one.  Would  that  every 
atom  in  creation  had  a  tongue  to  return  God  thanks  for  this  wondrous 
favor  granted  unto  men  !  Millions  and  billions  of  praises  forever  to  God ! 
Amen. 


THE  HOLY   ROSARY 

"  Behold,  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed." — Luke  i.  48. 

HE  Holy  Rosary  is  a  form  of  devotion,  my  brethren,  in  which 
"  Our  Father,"  and  the  "  Hail,  Mary !  "  and  "  Glory  be  to  the 
Father,"  are  said  a  certain  number  of  times,  and  the  chief 
mysteries  in  the  life  of  our  Lord  and  of  His  Holy  Mother 
are  thought  over. 

The  Rosary  is  divided  into  three  parts  or  chaplets,  and  each  chaplet 
into  five  "  decades."  A  decade  consists  of  "  Our  Father  "  oncCy  "  Hail, 
Mary  !  "  ten  times,  and  once  "  Glory  be  to  the  Father."  Hence,  the 
whole  Rosary  consists  of  fifteen  "  Our  Fathers,"  one  hundred  and  fifty 
"  Hail,  Marys  !  "  and  fifteen  "  Glory  be  to  the  Fathers." .  Beads  are  used 
to  help  in  the  recital  of  the  Rosary,  and  the  ordinary  beads  consist  of 
five  decades.  Whilst  sa'ying  the  decades  of  the  first  chaplet  it  is  recom- 
mended to  meditate  upon  the  five  joyful  mysteries ;  whilst  saying  the 
second  chaplet,  to  meditate  upon  the  five  sorrowful  mysteries ;  and  whilst 
saying  the  third  chaplet,  to  meditate  upon  the  five  glorious  mysteries. 
Though,  to  gain  the  Dominican  indulgences,  and  the  Brigittine  indulg- 
ences, also,  whenever  they  may,  as  they  can,  be  attached  to  a  chaplet  of 
five  decades,  it  is  sufficient,  as  well  as  necessary,  to  meditate  upon  some 
one  of  the  fifteen  mysteries. 

To  gain  the  Apostolic  indulgences  no  meditation  on  the  mysteries  is 
required.  The  same  is  true  for  the  Brigittine  indulgence  wherever  the 
ordinary  Brigittine  chaplet  of  six  decades  is  used. 

The  name  of  Brigittine  indulgences  is  derived  from  St.  Brigitta,  of 
Sweden,  who  devised  the  peculiar  form  of  chaplet — six  decades — to 
which  these  indulgences  were  originally  attached.  The  faculties  for  at- 
taching the  Brigittine  and  Apostolic  indulgences  are  usually  granted  at 
Rome,  and  in  the  same  formula  ;  the  faculties  for  attaching  the  Domini- 
can indulgences  are  granted  by  the  general  or  local  Superior  of  the  Do- 
minican Order. 

There  are  in  all  six  classes  of  indulgences  which  may  be  gained  by 
the  recitation  of  the  Rosary,  namely:  Dominican,  Brigittine,  Apostolic, 
Indulgences  of  Vatican  Council,  Indulgences  of  the  Confraternity  of  the 
Rosary,  and  the  Indulgences  of  the  Living  Rosary.    What  these  different 

(493) 


494  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

indulgences  are,  and  the  special  conditions  for  gaining  them,  can  be  seen 
by  reading  the  Raccolta  and  other  works  treating  on  indulgences.  When 
indulgences  without  any  qualification  are  mentioned  the  Dominican  in- 
dulgences are  usually  referred  to. 

The  fifteen  mysteries  recommended  in  the  Rosary  devotion  are  an 
abridgment  of  the  Gospel  history  of  the  Incarnation ;  the  life,  the 
sufferings  and  triumphant  victory  of  Jesus  Christ  in  behalf  of  man.  They 
should  be  amongst  the  principal  objects  of  the  devotion  of  every  person, 
rich  and  poor,  learned  and  unlearned.  The  Rosary,  as  suggesting  them, 
should  accordingly  be  practiced  by  all. 

The  devotion  of  the  Rosary  was  revealed  to  St.  Dominic,  in  the  year 
1206,  by  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  herself.  "  Institute  the  Rosary,"  said 
she  to  the  saint,  "  and  it  will  be  a  remedy  against  so  many  evils."  St. 
Dominic  set  himself  at  once  in  earnest  to  "  institute  "  the  devotion.  He 
preached  upon  it  wherever  he  went.  He  taught  the  people  how  to  recite 
it.  He  explained  the  mysteries,  and  the  many  and  great  advantages  to 
be  derived  from  the  practice  of  this  devotion.  The  Albigensian  heresy, 
raging  at  the  time,  was  quickly  put  an  end  to  by  the  devotion  of  the 
Rosary.  The  eloquence  of  St.  Dominic  in  his  preaching  upon  this  devo- 
tion, as  a  means'  to  put  down  the  heresy,  and  the  glorious  success  which 
immediately  crowned  the  prayers  of  the  faithful,  at  once  made  the  Rosary 
appear  in  its  true  light,  as  a  most  beautiful  and  efficacious  form  of  prayer. 
And,  from  that  time  to  this,  as  it  shall  be  for  all  time  to  come,  the  devo- 
tion of  the  Rosary,  or  beads,  is  regarded  as  the  most  beautiful,  most  sub- 
lime, most  popular,  and  also  the  most  profitable  of  all  devotions. 

The  Turkish  power  threatened  at  one  time  to  overrun  all  Christendom 
with  fire  and  sword.  The  faithful  had  recourse  to  the  devotion  of  the 
Rosary,  and  victory  was  won.  For  the  victory  won  at  the  great  naval 
battle  at  Lepanto,  in  the  year  1571,  was  ascribed  to  the  influence  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  whom  the  faithful  most  earnestly  invoked  in  the  devo- 
tion of  the  Rosary.  To  commemorate  this  victory  St.  Pius  V.  instituted 
the  festival  of  the  Rosary,  which  is  held  every  year  on  the  first  Sunday  in 
October. 

Again,  in  the  year  1630,  a  terrible  plague  raged  in  Bologne  and  the 
surrounding  country  for  miles  around.  Business  was  suspended,  shops 
were  closed,  and  more  than  a  third  of  the  inhabitants  were  swept  away ! 
The  survivors  were  filled  with  terror  and  dismay.  Medical  aid  and  all 
other  human  means  were  tried  to  stay  the  ravages  of  the  plague,  but 
without  any  avail.  The  people,  at  length,  had  recourse  to  the  Rosary, 
and,  oh !  praise  forever  to  God,  and  the  intercession  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  the  plague  instantly  disappeared. 

But,  what  shall  we  say  of  the  efficacy  of  the  Rosary  in  preserving  the 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  495 

Catholic  faith  in  Ireland  during  ages  of  darkness  and  persecution  ?  For, 
when  a  price  was  set  on  the  head  of  the  Irish  Catholic  schoolmaster,  as 
well  as  on  the  head  of  the  Irish  priest,  the  Irish  Catholic  parents  would 
not  let  their  children  into  a  Protestant  school,  and  when  they  grew  up, 
accordingly,  unable  to  read  their  prayer-book,  or  any  other  pious  book, 
the  faith  was  handed  down,  from  parent  to  child,  by  means  of  the 
Rosary.  The  Irish  people,  like  Moses,  conquered  the  enemy,  ^nd  ad- 
vanced God's  glory  by  means  of  prayer  and  the  prayer  of  the  Rosary. 

St.  Charles  Borromeo  attributed  the  conversion  and  sanctification  of 
the  faithful  of  his  diocese  to  the  devotion  of  the  Rosary  alone. 

Pope  Gregory  XVI.  calls  the  Rosary  "  a  wonderful  instrument  for 
the  destruction  of  sin,  the  recovery  of  God's  grace  and  the  advancement 
of  His  glory." 

Our  present  Pope,  Leo  XIII.,  is  incessant  in  his  inculcation  of  the 
devotion  of  the  Rosary.  He  has  added  the  title  of  "  Queen  of  the  most 
Holy  Rosary"  to  the  Litany  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  And  he  has  strongly 
recommended  the  daily  recital  of  the  Rosary  in  every  Cathedral  through- 
out Christendom. 

The  devotion  of  the  Rosary,  when  practiced  publicly  in  the  house 
every  night,  is  found  to  be  a  wonderful  means  for  preserving  piety  in 
families.  In  fact,  it  brings  down  daily  a  shower  of  the  choicest  graces. 
There  is  scarcely  a  Catholic  family  in  Ireland  that  does  not  recite  the 
Rosary  every  night.  An  indulgence  of  ten  years  and  ten  quarantines  is 
granted  to  all  who,  conjointly  with  one  or  more  others,  recite  upon  a 
blessed  beads  the  ordinary  chaplet  of  five  decades  of  the  Rosary.  How 
beautiful,  my  brethren,  to  see  the  faithful  assembled  together  with  their 
beads  in  hand,  reciting  the  Rosary,  whether  in  their  own  houses,  or  in 
the  church,  before  Mass  on  the  Sunday  morning ;  or,  again,  at  the  devo- 
tions for  Lent,  or  May,  or  any  of  the  other  devotions  throughout  the 
year.  Of  such  occasions  Christ  solemnly  says :  "  Where  there  are  two  or 
three  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them  " 
(Matt,  xviii.  20).  And  are  not  the  inspired  words  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
then  also  verified :  "  Behold,  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me 
blessed  "  (Luke  i.  48). 

Great  indulgences  are  attached  to  the  recitation  of  the  Beads.  When 
the  beads  are  duly  blessed,  there  are  even  as  many  as  one  hundred  days 
indulgence  granted  for  each  "  Our  Father,"  and  for  each  "  Hail,  Mary ! " 
to  all  those  who  say  five  decades  each  time  of  recitation. 

It  may  be  well  to  mention,  for  the  further  instruction  of  the  faithful, 
that  beads  lose  their  blessing:  1st.  When  they  cease  to  be  the  property 
of  the  person  who  first  uses  them  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  the  indulg- 
ences.    2d.  When  they  are  sold,  with  or  without  profit,  after  having 


496  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

been  blessed.  But,  of  course,  if  a  man  gets  a  commission  to  buy  a  beads 
and  get  it  blessed,  he  can,  without  endangering  the  blessing  or  indulg- 
ence, receive  from  him  who  entrusted  him  with  the  commission,  the 
money  expended  in  the  purchase.  3d.  If  you  give  away  or  lend  your 
beads  to  another  to  recite  prayers  on  it,  neither  the  giver  nor  the  receiver 
gains  any  indulgence. 

You  see,  my  brethren,  what  an  advantage  it  is  to  have  beads,  and  to 
have  them  blessed  by  the  priest.  And  you  see,  moreover,  what  a  power- 
ful instrument  such  a  beads  is  for  removing  the  temporary  punishment 
due  to  your  sins.  Who  is  it,  then,  that  knows  he  has  committed  sin,  and, 
consequently,  has  an  amount  of  temporal  punishment  awaiting  him, 
either  in  this  life  or  in  purgatory,  and  still  will  not  get  the  punishment 
cancelled  by  the  easy,  simple,  and  efficacious  means  of  reciting  the  beads? 
The  man  that  sees  a  storm  approaching,  and  will  not  run  for  shelter,  de- 
serves what  he  gets.  The  beads  are  the  secure  shelter  from  the  terrible 
storms  of  affliction  and  danger.  The  Blessed  Berchmans  wished  to  die 
holding  the  beads  in  his  hands. 

The  Rosary  is  a  form  of  prayer  that  gives  high  honor  to  God  and  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  His  Mother.  When  we  say,  "  Our  Father,"  we  say  the 
sublime  prayer  that  Jesus  Christ  Himself  taught  us.  When  we  say, 
"  Hail,  Mary  !  "  we  are  repeating  the  glorious  salutation  with  which  the 
Archangel  Gabriel  and  St.  Elizabeth  greeted  the  Blessed  Virgin.  When 
we  say  the  "  Holy  Mary,"  we  repeat  the  beautiful  words  in  which  the 
Church  addresses  the  Mother  of  God.  And  when  we  say,  "  Glory  be  to 
the  Father,"  we  honor  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Blessed  Trinity.  What 
other  prayers  could  be  more  simple  or  sublime,  or  more  worthy  of  a 
Christian  ? 

But  it  may  be  objected  —saying  the  "  Our  Father  "  and  "  Glory  be  to 
the  Father,"  only  once,  and  "  Hail,  Mary"  and  "  Holy  Mary  !  "  ten  times: 
is  not  this  honoring  the  Blessed  Virgin  ten  times  as  much  as  God  ?  We 
answer :  by  no  means  is  it.  For  it  is  to  God  Himself  we  pray  each  of 
the  ten  times,  and  we  do  so  every  single  time  through  the  intercession  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin.  Of  God  alone  we  beg  grace  and  mercy,  and  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  we  ask  only  the  assistance  of  her  prayers.  We  believe  in 
the  efficacy  of  the  prayers  of  the  Mother  of  God.  And  why  not  ?  The 
"  continual  prayer  of  a  just  man  availeth  much,"  says  St.  James  (v.  16) ; 
therefore,  the  prayer  of  her  who  is  "  full  of  grace,"  and  "  blessed  amongst 
women,"  must  "avail  much."  How  can  the  Divine  Son,  consistently 
with  His  model  obedience  as  a  Son,  refuse  to  grant  the  reasonable  re- 
quest of  His  Own  Mother  ?  Though  His  time  was  not  yet  come.  He 
wrought  His  first  miracle  in  order  to  please  her.  Wherefore  St. 
Liguori  says :  "  The  Son  is  omnipotent  by  nature,  the  Mother  by  grace." 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 


49T 


Now,  here,  my  brethren,  it  must  be  accurately  understood  that,  to 
have  our  prayers  acceptable  we  must  obey  God's  Commandments.  The 
Blessed  Virgin,  at  the  marriage  feast  of  Cana,  took  care  to  tell  the 
waiters :  "  Whatsoever  He  shall  say  to  you,  do  ye  "  (John  ii.  5). 

My  brethren,  let  us  resolve  td  let  no  day  pass  without  reciting  the 
beads.  Let  us  carry  beads  always  about  us  ;  and  let  us  love  them  as  we 
would  love  a  wreath  of  roses  plucked  from  the  fiower-gardens  of  heaven, 
and  presented  to  us  by  the  fair  hands  of  the  Virgin-Mother  of  God.  And 
as  we  look  upon  the  beads,  let  us  think  of  its  glorious  origin  and  institu- 
tion, and  its  history,  and  the  part  that  has  been  given  it  to  play  in  sweet- 
ening the  world,  rescuing  souls  and  helping  them  to  come  in  God's  good 
time  to  the  bright  land  above,  where  the  sweetness  and  the  loveliness  of 
God,  and  of  all  heaven,  around  and  afar,  are  to  be  seen  mirrored  in  the 
face  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  for  the  countless  ages  of  eternity  !  "  For  be- 
hold, from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed."     Amen. 


EXTREME    UNCTION 

"  Is  any  man  sick  among  you  ?  Let  him  bring  in  the  priests  of  the  Church,  and  let 
them  pray  over  him,  anointing  him  with  oil,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." — 
James  v.  14. 

|HE  Catholic  Church,  my  brethren,  guided  as  she  is  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  takes  a  constant  practical  interest  in  us  from  the 
time  that  we  come  into  this  world  until  we  leave  it  again.  At 
our  birth  she  administers  to  us  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism, 
whereby  we  are  cleansed  from  original  sin,  made  Christians,  and  children 
of  God,  and  heirs  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Later  on  in  life  she  ad- 
ministers Confirmation,  as  she  does  in  the  case  of  these  sweet  and  good 
children  here  to-day,  who  are  to  be  made  by  this  sacrament  strong  and 
perfect  Christians,  and  to  be  filled  with  the  seven  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Then,  again,  as  soon  as  we  begin  to  lose  God's  friendship 
through  sin,  she  administers  the  Sacrament  of  Penance,  and  thereby  re- 
mits our  sins.  And,  as  a  fond  mother,  that  loves  her  children  even  as 
her  very  life,  she  administers  to  us  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  and  thus  gives 
us  spiritual  food  to  support  us  on  our  journey  to  heaven.  All  these  salu- 
tary helps  and  more  the  Church  confers  upon  us  during  life ;  but  when 
life  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and  our  health  begins  to  give  way,  then  she  ad- 
ministers to  us  the  sacrament  which  she  specially  keeps  in  store  for  those 
who  are  about  to  leave  this  world,  and  stand  their  trial  before  the  Judge. 
This  Sacrament  is  Extreme  Unction.  It  is  so  called,  because  it  is  the 
last  or  Extreme  Unction  that  a  child  of  the  Church  receives.  The  other 
unctions  are  used  at  Baptism,  Confirmation,  Holy  Orders,  and  at  certain 
consecrations. 

II.  The  Catholic  Church  is  most  anxious  to  have  the  subject  of  Ex- 
treme Unction  clearly  and  accurately  understood  by  all  her  children. 
Hence,  the  Council  of  Trent  has  directed  that  Extreme  Unction  "should 
form  a  subject  of  frequent  instruction,  not  only  inasmuch  as  it  emi- 
nently becomes  (the  priest)  to  unfold  and  explain  the  mysteries  which 
appertain  to  salvation,  but  also  because  the  faithful,  frequently  reflecting 
that  death  is  the  inevitable  doom  of  all  men,  will  repress  depraved 
desires  "  (Con.  Trent,  chap,  vi.,  part  2). 

Other  subjects  may  of  their  own  intrinsic  nature  call  forth  higher 
(498) 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE.  499 

flights  of  fancy  and  more  impassioned  oratory ;  but  still  the  subject  of 
Extreme  UnctioH  is  second  to  none  of  them  in  its  quiet  native  beauty 
and  soul-saving  power ;  nor  am  I  unwilling  to  believe  that  if  we  would 
reflect  this  morning,  for  a  short  time,  with  the  proper  dispositions,  on  its 
{a)  institution  by  Jesus  Christ,  on  its  {b)  wondrous  nature,  and  on  its  {c) 
supernatural  effects  upon  {d^  the  soul  and  {e)  the  body,  we  shall  not  go 
home  altogether  fasting. 

III.  The  Council  of  Trent  has  conclusively  proved  that  Extreme 
Unction  possesses  the  true  nature  of  a  sacrament,  that  it  has  been  insti- 
tuted by  Christ  our  Lord,  and  promulgated  by  St.  James :  "  Is  any  man 
sick  among  you  ?  Let  him  bring  in  the  priests  of  the  Church,  and  let 
them  pray  over  him,  anointing  him  with  oil,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
And  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick  man  ;  and  the  Lord  shall  raise, 
him  up ;  and  if  he  be  in  sins,  they  shall  be  forgiven  him  "  (v.  14,  15). 

IV.  Now,  my  brethren,  since  Christ  our  Lord  has  instituted  the 
Sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction,  it  is  evident  that  it  must  be  necessary 
in  the  Divine  economy  of  man's  salvation  ;  for  Christ  would  not,  nor 
even  could  He,  institute  a  sacrament  without  a  reason.  Hence,  the 
Catholic  Church,  which  Christ  promised  to  be  with  all  days,  has  since  her 
first  establishment  in  the  world  never  ceased  to  teach  and  practice  the 
doctrine  of  Extreme  Unction.  And  before  she  ordains  any  one  of  her 
priests  she  demands  a  promise  from  him  that  he  will  administer  the 
Sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction  whenever  required  by  any  of  his  flock, 
even  at  the  risk  of  his  very  life. 

Moreover,  there  is  no  time  at  which  the  soul  stands  in  such  need  of 
spiritual  help  as  at  the  approach  of  death.  For,  it  is  then  that  Satan, 
knowing  well  that  he  has  but  a  short  time,  makes  his  last  and  fiercest 
attack  upon  the  soul,  in  order  to  unfit  her  for  heaven,  and  to  finally 
snatch  her  from  the  arms  of  Jesus,  who  died  for  her !  "  Woe  to  the 
earth  and  to  the  sea,"  says  St.  John,  in  the  Apocalypse ;  "  because  the 
devil  is  come  down  into  you,  having  great  wrath,  knowing  that  he  hath 
but  a  short  time "  (xii.  12).  "There  are  spirits,"  says  Ecclesiasticus, 
"  that  are  created  for  vengeance,  and  in  their  fury  they  lay  on  grievous 
torments  ;  in  the  time  of  destruction  [?>.,  in  the  time  of  death],  they 
shall  pour  out  their  force  "  (xxxix.  33,  34). 

"  Though  our  adversary  seeks  and  seizes  opportunities  all  our  life  long, 
to  be  able  in  any  way  to  devour  our  souls  ;  yet  is  there  no  time  wherein 
he  strains  more  vehemently  all  the  powers  of  his  craft  to  ruin  us  utterly, 
and  to  make  us  fall,  if  he  possibly  can,  even  from  trust  in  the  mercy  of 
God,  than  when  he  perceives  the  end  of  our  life  to  be  at  hand  "  (Sess.  xiv.). 

But,  in  order  that  each  one  may  realize  the  importance  of  this  subject 
still  more,  just  imagine,  my  brethren,  that  you  are,  as  you  shall  one  day 


500  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

be,  stretched  sick  and  helpless  upon  your  death-bed.  There  is  no  hope 
within  you  of  rising  from  it  any  more.  You  grow  worse  from  day  to  day, 
till  at  length  the  end  has  come.  The  film  of  death  comes  upon  your 
eyes ;  the  clammy  pallor  of  death  comes  upon  your  face  ;  the  rattle  of 
death  comes  into  your  throat ;  the  cold  grave  is  about  to  open  and 
receive  your  body,  the  case  and  prison  of  the  soul ;  you  are  soon  to  be 
separated  forever  from  your  house  and  home  and  friends,  and  from  every 
creature  upon  earth.  The  memory  of  the  sins,  perhaps  black  and  count- 
less, which  you  have  committed  during  the  days  of  the  years  of  your 
life,  now  comes  up  before  you,  and  fills  you  in  your  weak  moment  with  a 
fear  and  a  terror,  heightened  beyond  description  by  the  burning  thought 
of  the  searching  examination  of  the  Judge,  and  the  sentence  from  His 
lips  that  shall  determine  your  happiness  or  misery  for  all  eternity !  In 
the  midst  of  these  unusual  and  trying  circumstances  Satan,  your  enemy, 
will  tempt  you  to  the  last  degree  ;  at  one  time  to  despair,  at  another  to 
presumption.  And  if  he  finds  the  contest  going  against  him,  he  will  call 
out  the  whole  force  of  hell  in  order  to  strike  you  down,  and  to  secure 
you  for  himself!  Ah  \  my  brethren,  a  poor  mariner  about  to  sink  with 
his  lightning-struck  vessel  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  and  looking  out  his 
last  despairing  look  at  the  rolling  waves  that  submerge  him,  gives  you 
but  a  faint  idea  of  how  the  sinner  shall  feel  when,  from  the  solemn  stand- 
point of  a  death-bed,  he  shall  see  his  sins  rising  in  their  numbers,  count- 
less as  the  black  sea  waves  that  are  lashed  into  fury  by  an  angry  storm, 
and  hastening  to  swallow  him  down  into  the  gloomy  depths  from  whence 
he  shall  never  again  return ! 

Ah !  my  brethren,  how  the  sinner  in  these  agonizing  circumstances 
will  raise  his  suppliant  hands  and  eyes  to  his  Great  Creator  for  help. 
And,  praise  forever  to  God,  the  needful  help  comes  to  him  in  the  shape 
of  the  Sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction.  For,  "  as  in  the  other  sacra- 
ments. He  (God)  prepared  the  greatest  aids,  whereby  during  life  Chris- 
tians may  preserve  themselves  whole  from  ever>'  more  grievous  spiritual 
evil ;  so  did  He  guard  the  close  of  life  by  the  Sacrament  of  Extreme 
Unction,  as  with  a  most  firm  defense  "  (Council  of  Trent). 

V.  Extreme  Unction,  then,  as  your  Catechism  thoughtfully  tells  you, 
is  "  a  sacrament  which  gives  grace  to  die  well,  and  is  instituted  chiefly 
for  the  spiritual  strength  and  comfort  of  dying  persons." 

VI.  The  matter  of  this  sacrament,  or,  in  other  words,  the  outward 
material  part  of  it,  is  oil  of  olives,  consecrated  by  the  bishop,  and  ap- 
plied by  the  priest  to  the  principal  organs  of  the  body  through  which  sin 
enters  the  soul.  The  oil  suggests  the  salutary  effects  which  are  produced 
in  the  soul.  For,  as  the  oil  used  by  the  Grecian  athletes  strengthened 
them  for  the  contest,  so  does  the  sacramental  oil,  used  by  the  Catholic 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  501 

Church  in  anointing,  strengthen  her  children  for  their  contest  with 
Satan.  The  priest  anoints  the  eyes,  ears,  nostrils,  mouth,  hands  and  feet 
of  the  sick  person,  and  whilst  doing  so,  he  makes  use  of  a  form  of  words 
to  correspond  with  the  different  organs  so  anointed. 

VII.  The  affectionate  solicitude  which  our  holy  mother,  the  Catholic 
Church,  takes  in  us,  appears  in  a  special  manner  from  the  words  of -divine 
eloquence  which  she  puts  into  the  mouth  of  her  priests  when  administer, 
ing  the  Sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction  :  "  O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  we 
in  our  humility  enter  this  house,  may  eternal  felicity,  may  divine  pros 
perity,  may  serene  joy,  may  fruitful  charity,  may  everlasting  health  also 
enter  with  us.  May  the  approach  of  demons  be  forbidden  this  place,  and 
the  angels  of  peace  be  present. 

"  Heal,  we  beseech  Thee,  our  Redeemer,  by  the  grace  of  Thy  Holy 
Spirit,  the  languors  of  the  sick  man  ;  cure  his  wounds  and  forgive  his  sins ; 
remove  from  him  every  pain  of  mind  and  body  \  mercifully  grant  him 
again  full  health,  as  well  internal  as  external  "  (Ord.  ad.  Sac*.).^ 

THE  EFFECTS  OF  EXTREME   UNCTION. 

"  And  the  prayer  of  Faith  shall  save  the  sick  man  :  and  the  Lord  shall  raise  him  up : 
and  if  he  be  in  sins,  they  shall  be  forgiven  him." — ^James  v.  15. 

Extreme  Unction  gives  internal  health ;  it  gives  special  grace  to  die 
well ;  it  strengthens  the  soul  against  temptations  ;  it  comforts  her  in  her 
darkest  hour ;  it  gives  her  confidence  in  the  mercy  of  God  ;  and  courage 
to  go  and  stand  before  His  dread  tribunal.  Oh  !  my  brethren,  it  is  when 
death  approaches  that  courage  is  wanted  indeed.  For,  says  the  Scripture, 
"  They  shall  come  [to  the  judgment]  with  fear  at  the  thought  of  their 
sins,  and  their  iniquities  shall  stand  against  them  to  convict  them '' 
(Wisdom  iv.  20). 

Extreme  Unction  relieves  the  soul  from  the  languor  and  torpor,  and 
increased  proneness  to  evil,  and  the  other  spiritual  infirmities  which  she 
has  contracted  by  sin.  All  these  relics  or  remnants  of  sin  it  searches  out 
with  a  keen,  mysterious  penetration  of  its  own,  and  swiftly  destroys  them 
one  and  all.  The  painstaking  grace  of  this  wondrous  sacrament  cleanses 
the  soul  with  a  perfect,  final  cleansing.  It  makes  her  sweet  and  beauteous, 
and  lovable  once  more,  such  as  she  came  from  the  beautifying  waters  of 
Baptism,  when  she  exhaled  a  fragrance  like  unto  the  wandering  fragrance 
of  Jesus  upon  earth. 

Extreme  Unction  remits  venial  sins,  and  even  mortal  sins,  whenever 
the  sick  person  is  unable,  from  any  cause,  to  make  his  confession,  though 
sincerely  anxious  to  do  so ;  "  and  if  he  be  in  sins,  they  shall  be  forgiven 
him  "  (James  v.  14). 


502  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

• 

Thus,  this  sacrament  not  only  confers  sanctifying  grace,  and  destroys 
the  relics  or  remnants  of  sin  in  the  soul,  but  it  even  gives  multitudinous 
actual  graces  for  any  given  spiritual  emergency  to  every  worthy  receiver. 

Oh !  my  brethren,  how  prodigal  the  Precious  Blood  is  in  the  Sacra- 
ment of  Extreme  Unction !  How  amazing  are  its  supernatural  activities ! 
How  ingenious  it  is  in  its  numberless  operations !  What  a  wondrous 
variety  in  the  streams  of  grace  that  come  through  it  to  the  soul !  Why, 
if  it  were  only  given  to  us  to  see  these  graces  in  all  their  charming  variety, 
we  should  be  likely  to  compare  them  to  the  lovely  network  of  some  vast 
river-system,  which  gladdens,  and  fertilizes  all  the  land  that  lies  in  its 
way,  and  which,  like  a  reflex  of  heaven,  flashes  up  continuously  to  the 
skies,  as  so  much  outward  additional  light  and  song  and  glory  to  Him 
who  rules  on  high !  Ah  !  my  brethren,  what  exquisite  groups  of  the 
deep  mysteries  of  God's  beautifying  love  lie  sweetly  compressed  in  the 
Sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction  !  What  an  important  part  this  last  sacra- 
ment plays  every  day  at  the  hands  of  a  priest  in  his  apostolic  work  of 
saving  immortal  souls,  and  peopling  heaven  with  saints ! 

But,  my  brethren.  Extreme  Unction  also  gives  external  health.  It 
has  been  instituted  by  Christ  our  Lord  to  be  medicinal  not  alone  for  the 
soul,  but  medicinal  also  for  the  body.  The  Apostles  "  cast  out  many 
devils,  and  anointed  with  oil  many  that  were  sick  and  healed  them  "  (Mark 
vi.  13).  Hence,  when  administering  Extreme  Unction,  the  priest  prays 
that  the  sick  person  may  recover.  And  God  will  hear ^  this  prayer,  pro- 
vided He  sees  that  it  will  tend  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  sick  person. 
"  Nor  should  the  faithful,"  says  the  Council  of  Trent,  "  doubt  that  these 
holy  and  solemn  prayers  which  are  used  by  the  priest,  not  in  his  own  per- 
son, but  in  that  of  the  Church,  and  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  are  heard  by 

God However,  shQuld  the  sick  person  not  recover  it  (health)  in 

these  days,  that  is  to  be  attributed,  not  to  any  defect  of  the  Sacrament, 
but  rather  to  the  weaker  faith  of  a  great  part  of  those  who  are  anointed 
with  the  sacred  oil,  or  by  whom  it  is  administered ;  for  the  Evangelist 
bears  witness  that  the  Lord  '  wrought  not  many  miracles '  amongst  His 
own  'because  of  their  unbelief  "  (Matt.  xiii.  58). 

Extreme  Unction,  then,  is  calculated  to  hasten  the  recovery,  rather 
than  the  death  of  the  sick  person.  Hence,  all  well-instructed  Catholics, 
through  their  love  of  the  soul  and  It/e  of  their  sick  friend  or  neighbor, 
will  call  in  the  priest  as  soon  as  there  appears  a  probable  danger  of  death. 
Of  course,  if  the  anointing  be  put  off  too  long,  it  would  be  tempting  God 
to  expect  a  recovery  through  it ;  and,  moreover,  the  patient  would  there- 
by run  the  risk  of  dying  without  the  sacrament  altogether,  or  of  receiving 
it  when  he  is  insensible  or  unconscious.  It  is  well  to  understand  that  a 
sick  person  will  receive  the  grace  of  this  sacrament  in  more  abundant 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  503 

measure  when  his  mind  and  reason  are  unimpaired,  than  what  he  other- 
wise would. 

Here  the  springs  of  fraternal  love  are  called  into  play.  "  By  this," 
says  Christ,  "  shall  all  men  know  that  you  are  my  disciples,  if  you  have 
love  one  for  another"  (John  xiii.  35).  If  you  have  real  fraternal  love 
for  your  neighbor,  you  will  have  a  golden  opportunity  of  showing  it  to 
him  when  he  is  sick  and  in  need  of  help.  "A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend 
indeed  ";  and  so,  my  brethren,  as  soon  as  you  see  that  your  friend  is  in 
need  of  the  help  to  die  well,  you  will  get  it  for  him  at  once :  you  will  call 
in  the  priest.  I  am  sure  that  in  this  parish,  like  all  other  well-disciplined 
parishes,  when  giving  the  "  sick  calls  "  to  the  priest,  you  consult  for  his 
convenience  as  far  as  you  can. 

Extreme  Unction  cannot  be  administered  to  any  one  but  a  Christian 
in  danger  of  death  by  sickness,  and  who  has  already  committed  some  sin, 
or,  at  least,  has  been  capable  of  committing  it. 

When  receiving  this  sacrament  "  we  should  be  truly  sorry  for  our  sins, 
and  resigned  to  the  will  of  God."  A  person  dying  in  his  sin,  such  as  a 
man  dying  stupidly  drunk,  cannot  receive  Extreme  Unction.  Ah !  my 
brethren,  how  pained  I  felt  on  one  occasion  (in  another  country)  when  on 
the  mission  in  England,  I  was  called  in  to  administer  the  Sacrament  of 
Extreme  Unction  to  a  dying  man,  and  found  that  I  could  not,  for  he 
was  dying  stupidly  drunk,  and  so  was  incapable  of  receiving  any  sacra- 
ment. 

In  time  of  sickness  we  should  be  truly  resigned  to  the  sweet  will  of 
God.  Whatever  God  wills,  He  wills  it  for  the  best.  Hence,  the  sincere 
Christian  wishes  to  recover  from  his  sickness  only  in  order  to  do  penance 
for  his  sins,  to  improve  himself  in  virtue,  and  to  edify  all  around  him  by 
his  amendment  of  life. 

But,  my  brethren,  though  lawful  and  natural  for  any  one  to  wish  to 
recover  from  sickness,  what  advantage,  after  all,  is  it  to  recover  ?  Would 
it  not  be  as  sweet  to  the  soul  to  have  her  weary  pilgrimage  here  in  the 
body  at  an  end  ?  Would  it  not  be  as  desirable  to  be  dissolved  and  away 
with  Christ,  as  it  would  be  to  remain  longer  sojourning  in  this  valley  of 
tears?  What  pleasure  is  it  to  remain,  seeing  that  every  pathway  in  this 
world  has  its  brier,  every  rose  its  thorn,  and  every  honey-bee  its  sting  ? 
If  we  recover  from  one  sickness,  have  we  not  to  yield  to  another,  and  to 
death,  either  prepared  or  unprepared,  in  the  long  run  ?  St.  Augustine, 
commenting  upon  our  Saviour's  restoring  health  to  the  sick,  says :  "  The 
true  health  of  our  bodies,  which  we  expect  from  the  Lord,  will  only  then 
take  place  when  we  rise  again  the  last  day  from  the  grave.  Then  what- 
ever shall  live  will  die  no  more — whatever  shall  be  healed  will  be  sick  no 
more — whatever  shall  be  filled  shall  hunger  and  thirst  no  more — what- 


504  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ever  shall  be  renewed  will  never  grow  old  again.  But  at  present  in  these 
actions  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  which 
He  opened,  will  be  closed  again  in  death  ;  the  limbs  of  the  paralytic, 
which  He  braced  with  strength,  will  again  be  unnerved ;  whatever  He 
healed  of  our  mortal  bodies,  in  time,  will  all  of  them  fail  again  at  last. 
But  the  soul,  whose  infirmities  He  also  came  to  cure,  whose  sins  He  came 
to  forgive,  that  will  fail  no  more,  but  pass  to  a  life  which,  being  eternal, 
is  secure  against  all  the  assaults  of  death." 

Eighty  thousand  persons  die  every  day !  There  are  many  sick  in  Is- 
rael :  but  there  is  balm  in  Gilead,  there  is  a  physician  there.  There  is  a 
sacrament  in  the  Catholic  Church  which,  at  the  time  of  death,  when  it  is 
most  wanted,  will  change  all  the  wells  of  bitterness  in  the  soul  into  springs 
of  freshness  and  of  life. 

But  see  the  physician  of  the  soul,  the  good  Soggarth  Aroon,  how  he 
hastens  to  the  bedside  of  the  dying  man !  And  the  dying  man,  in  due 
course  \s  yourself .  He  hears  your  last  confession  ;  administers  to  you  the 
Viaticum  or  Blessed  Eucharist ;  and  th^n,  in  the  midst  of  significant,  rev- 
erential surroundings,  the  Last  Sacrament,  or  Extreme  Unction.  The 
Precious  Blood  is  at  work  in  its  congenial  sphere.  The  beauty  of  the  Di- 
vine Mind  seems  specially  suffused  around  it  now.  The  aroma  of  the  Root 
of  Jesse  invites,  the  angels  to  the  spot.  But,  meanwhile  your  attendants 
can  see  that  you  are  sinking — sinking — sinking !  The  light  of  this  world 
gradually  leaves  your  eyes,  and  gradually  instead  comes  the  unwonted 
light  of  another  world.  You  are  already  in  the  suburbs  of  heaven.  The 
interminable  vistas  of  Paradise  stretch  away  in  gleaming  grandeur  before 
you.  The  unfolding  beauty  of  the  City  of  God  melts  you.  Its  glory 
riiasters  you.  A  sweet  calmness  comes  over  you.  A  voice,  as  of  far-off 
music,  rises  up  from  some  deep  sanctuary  within  your  soul.  It  is  a  fore- 
taste of  the  glad  sentence,  each  word  of  which  is  beauteous  as  an  unex- 
pected sunrise :  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;  because  thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  place  thee  over  many  things. 
Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord  "  (Matt.  xxv.  23). 

The  Face  of  God,  the  Beatific  Vision,  bursts  full  and  clear  upon  your 
view.  The  Fingers  of  the  Eternal  sweep  down  the  keys  of  His  stupendous 
instruments  of  music  to  welcome  you  into  heaven,  and  to  ingrain  a  joy 
unutterable  upon  you  !  A  keen  thrill  runs  through  you  and  makes  you 
feel  like  unto  heaven  itself.  The  battle  is  fought  at  last ;  the  victory  is 
fairly  won,  and  heaven  is  the  prize,  and  heaven  forever !  A  crown  inlaid 
with  imperishable  diamonds  is  placed  with  acclaim  upon  your  now  royal 
brow.  A  shout  of  joy  from  the  Angels,  loud,  as  from  numbers  without 
number,  rises  aloft  and  rings  through  the  whole  heavens.  Your  name  and 
deeds  are  interwoven  with   the  rich  web  of  heaven's  music.     And  in 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE. 


605 


presence  of  all,  the  Blessed  God  gives  you  the  Kiss  of  Peace  forever- 


more 


But,  my  brethren,  fancy,  if  you  can,  how  your  soul,  now  enraptured 
in  ecstatic  bliss,  will  join  with  the  Angels  and  their  Queen,  in  singing 
aloud  the  mercies  of  the  Lord,  and  especially  His  great  mercy  in  having 
given  us  that  Last  Sacrament,  the  Extreme  Unction,  to  prepare  us  to 
enter  acceptably  into  the  presence  of  God,  and  to  share  in  His  glory,  and 
in  His  kingdom  in  heaven,  for  all  eternity.     Amen. 


ON  BAPTISM. 

"  And  they  asked  him,  and  said  to  him :  Why  then  dost  thou  baptize  ?  " — ^John  i.  25. 

jiDAM,  our  first  parent,  committed  sin  by  eating  the  forbidden 
fruit  in  the  Garden  of  Paradise,  and  in  this  sin  of  Adam  all 
his  children,  except  one,  have  sinned — "  And  in  Adam's  sin 
we  have  all  sinned."  Wherefore,  every  child  born  into  this 
world  is  born  an  enemy  of  God,  with  the  malignant  stain  of  original  sin, 
or  the  sin  inherited  from  our  first  parents,  full  and  deep  upon  his  soul. 
And  whilst  in  this  state  the  soul  cannot  enter  heaven ;  for  "  nothing 
defiled  shall  enter  heaven."  But  Almighty  God,  in  His  infinite  mercy 
for  man,  has  instituted  a  sovereign  remedy  in  the  sacrament  of  Baptism, 
whereby  original  sin  is  remitted.  And  thus  by  Baptism  we  are  "  born 
again  "  into  a  new  life  in  Jesus  Christ,  we  become  Christians  and  children 
of  God,  and  heirs  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  "  And  they  asked  him, 
and  said  to  him:  Why  then  dost  thou  baptize?"  Baptism  is  necessary 
for  salvation  ;  for,  says  our  Lord,  "  unless  a  man  be  born  again  of  water 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  "  (John 
iii.  5).  Hence,  children  who  die  unbaptized  cannot  enter  into  heaven, 
nor  shall  they  ever  see  the  face  of  God.  They  only  enjoy  the  highest 
degree  of  natural  felicity.  Martyrdom,  however,  supplies  the  place  of 
actual  baptism  where  the  sacrament  cannot  possibly  be  had.  So  also 
does  the  desire  of  baptism  united  with  perfect  repentance  in  the  case  of 
an  adult  who  dies  before  he  has  an  opportunity  of  receiving  actual  bap- 
tism. 

Jesus  Christ  instituted  the  sacrament  of  Baptism.  He  Himself, 
though  He  had  no  need  of  it,  yet,  for  our  example,  was  baptized  by  St. 
John,  in  the  river  Jordan:  "Then  cometh  Jesus  from  Galilee  to  the  Jor- 
dan, unto  John,  to  be  baptized  by  him And  Jesus  being  baptized, 

forthwith  came  out  of  the  water :  and  lo,  the  heavens  were  opened  to 
Him ;  and  He  saw  the  Spirit  of  God  descending  as  a  dove,  and  coming 
upon  Him.  And  behold  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying:  This  is  my 
beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  "  (Matt.  iii.  13,  etc.). 

The  Apostles  preached  the  doctrine  of  baptism  ;  they  personally  admin- 
istered it  to  all,  without  exception,  both  old  and  young,  that  were  con- 
verted to  Christianity.  They  regarded  the  administration  of  baptism  as 
(506) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  507 

an  essential  part  of  their  divine  commission :  "  Going,  therefore,  teach  all 
nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost"  (Matt. xxviii.  19).  The  Catholic  Church,  founded  upon 
the  Apostles,  is  still  without  change  in  teaching  the  necessity  of  Baptism 
as  an  indispensable  means  of  salvation,  and  as  the  source  of  every  grace 
and  blessing. 

Baptism  incorporates  us  into  the  mystic  body  of  Christ,  so  that  we 
are  made  by  it  members,  one  of  another,  with  Christ  for  our  Head. 
Through  Christ,  our  Head,  we  at  once  become  sons  and  heirs  of  God, 
and  joint-heirs  with  Christ  (John  i.).  "  We  are  translated,"  says  the 
Council  of  Trent,  "  by  the  laver  of  regeneration  from  that  state  in  which 
we  were  born  children  of  the  first  Adam,  into  the  state  of  grace  and  of 
the  adoption  of  the  sons  of  God  through  the  second  Adam,  Jesus  Christ 
our  Saviour."  Oh  !  how  boundless  and  unfathomable  is  the  love  displayed 
in  the  sacrament  of  Baptism,  whereby  wretched  man,  from  his  degraded 
state,  is  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  son  of  God,  made  a  member  and  a 
brother  of  Christ,  and  a  living  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost ! 

At  Baptism  our  souls  are  washed  from  all  stain  of  sin,  "  They  are 
cleansed,"  as  St.  Paul  says  (Ephes.  v.  26),  "  by  the  laver  of  water  in  the 
word  of  life."  This  water  and  word  are  the  outward  signs  of  that  itiward 
grace  by  which  the  soul  is  cleansed  and  sanctified,  and  they  form  an  essen- 
tial part  of  the  sacrament  of  Baptism.  The  Church  commissions  her 
priests  to  administer  Baptism.  But,  though  a  priest  is  the  ordinary  and 
proper  minister  of  Baptism,  yet,  in  cases  of  necessity,  that  is,  where  the 
child  to  be  baptized  is  in  danger  of  dying  before  the  priest  can  reach,  any 
layman  or  woman  can  baptize,  and  should  baptize.  Such  baptism  is 
C3.\\Qd  private  baptism.  Many  souls  now  in  heaven  owe  their  enjoyment 
of  the  Beatific  Vision  to  private  baptism.  You  will  ask  then :  what  is 
the  correct  way  for  administering  private  baptism  ?  It  is  simply  this : 
by  pouring  water  on  the  head  of  the  person  to  be  baptized,  saying  at  the 
same  time,  and  with  the  intention  of  doing  what  the  true  Church  does : 
**  I  baptize  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  Any  alteration  or  defect  in  this  form  of  words  would 
make  the  baptism  at  once  invalid.  Care  then  must  be  taken  that  the 
exact  form  be  used :  "  /  baptize  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  ana 
of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.''  The  word  "  Amen  "  is  not  a  part  of 
the  form.  The  words  must  be  said  by  the  person  who  baptizes,  and  said 
whilst  he  is  pouring  out  the  water  on  the  head  of  the  person  to  be  bap- 
tized. 

Now,  observe  the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  our  Blessed  Lord  in  the 
institution  and  administration  of  this  most  necessary  sacrament.  Seeing 
the  necessity  we  have  of  Baptism  in  order  to  enter  into  the  spiritual  life  of 


508  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

grace,  He  has  made  everything  about  it  simple  and  easy.  He  has  selected 
as  matter  for  the  sacrament  what  is  most  common  and  easy  to  be  found 
everywhere,  namely,  water — water  from  the  clouds  or  from  the  river,  from 
the  fountain  or  from  the  sea.  The  minister,  in  case  of  necessity,  can 
be  any  lay  person,  man  or  woman,  Catholic  or  non-Catholic,  Jew,  heretic, 
or  infidel,  provided  he  baptizes,  as  I  have  explained,  and  has  the  inten- 
tion of  doing  what  the  true  Church  does.  And  tht  form  is  the  simplest : 
"  I  baptize  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

At  Baptism  there  is  imprinted  on  the  soul  rf  character,  or  spiritual 
mark,  which  can  never  be  effaced.  This  mark  is  set  as  a  seal  either  for 
greater  glory  if  the  soul  be  saved,  or  for  greater  confusion  if  it  be  lost. 
It  is  a  mark  which  distinguishes  the  Christian  from  the  rest  of  mankind. 

At  Baptism  Satan  is  dislodged  from  the  soul :  "  Depart  from  him, 
unclean  spirit,"  says  the  priest  in  administering  Baptism,  "  and  make  room 
for  the  Holy  Ghost."  The  three  theological  virtues, — Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity, — are  infused  into  the  soul,  and  a  title  to  actual  graces  is  estab- 
lished, whereby  the  person  baptized  may  keep  his  baptismal  vows,  and 
live  always  in  a  state  of  grace. 

But,  though  all  stain  of  sin  is  entirely  removed  from  the  soul  at  Bap- 
tism, yet  there  remains  an  innate  concupiscence  which  continually 
prompts  to  sin.  This  concupiscence  is  not  a  sin  ;  nor  are  its  promptings 
or  workings  sinful,  unless  indeed  they  be  fully  and  deliberately  consented 
to.  "  Concupiscence,"  says  the  Council  of  Trent,  "  is  not  in  itself  a  sin." 
This  concupiscence  will  have  to  be  overcome  by  prayer ;  hence,  St. 
Thomas  says :  "  After  Baptism  continual  prayer  is  necessary  to  man  in 
order  that  he  may  enter  heaven ;  for,  though  by  Baptism  our  sins  are 
remitted,  there  still  remains  concupiscence  to  assail  us  from  within,  and 
the  world  and  the  devil  to  assail  us  from  without." 

The  title  of  "  Christian,"  which  we  receive  at  Baptism,  is  a  title  of 
honor,  of  dignity,  and  eminence.  It  is  a  title  far  beyond  all  earthly 
titles.  "All  the  titles  and  honors  of  the  world,"  said  the  Emperor 
Theodosius,  "  are  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  dignified  title  of 
Christian." 

Do  we  appreciate  our  title  of  "  Christian"?  Do  we  glory  in  that 
name?  Do  we  rejoice  at  being  called  aher  C/trist  ?  Do  we  sustain  the 
character  of  Christian  which  we  profess  to  be  our  calling?  Is  our  life 
truly  Christian?  Is  it  like  unto  that  of  Christ,  full  of  meekness  and 
humility :  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  humble  of  heart "  ?  (Matt, 
xi.  29),  Is  it  full  of  charity :  "  God  has  loved  us  and  delivered  Himself 
up  for  us  "  (John  iii.  16)  ?  Is  our  life  a  life  of  living  faith  ?  For,  "  Faith 
without  good  works  is  dead  "  (James  ii.  26).     Is  our  life  in  keeping  with 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 


509 


our  baptismal  vows  ?  Are  we  fighting  nobly  against  temptations  under 
the  standard  of  Christ  and  His  Church  ?  Have  we  deserted  our  colors 
for  the  sake  of  Satan,  and  the  world,  and  the  flesh  ?  Are  we  carrying  to 
the  judgment-seat  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  the  white  robe  of  Baptism 
unstained,  and  pure,  and  undefiled?  Dear  Christian,  keep  the  burning 
light  of  faith  always  in  your  heart,  keep  your  Baptism  without  reproof, 
observe  the  commandments  of  God,  and  when  the  Lord,  to  whom  you 
have  been  espoused  at  Baptism,  shall  come  to  His  nuptials,  you  will 
gladly  go  forth  to  meet  Him  together  with  all  the  saints  in  the  heavenly 
court,  and  you  will  taste  of  the  sweetness  of  heaven,  and  of  its  joys,  and 
its  glories  unparalleled  ;  and  you  will  lay  your  head  sweetly  to  rest  upon 
the  bosom  of  God,  there  to  feel  the  Sacred  Heart  throbbing  with  joy  and 
with  untold  love  for  you  unto  all  eternity. 


MORTAL   SIN. 

Behold,  a  leper  came  and  adored  Him,  saying:  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  Thou  canst 
make  me  clean.  And  Jesus,  stretching  forth  His  hand,  touched  him,  saying :  I 
will,  be  thou  made  clean.  And  forthwith  his  leprosy  was  cleansed." — Matt. 
vii.  2,  3. 

FTER  our  Lord  had  preached  His  sermon  on  the  Mount  a 
leper  came  to  Him,  and  said  :  "  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  Thou  canst 
make  me  clean."  Leprosy  was  a  common  disease  amongst 
the  Jews ;  it  was  a  most  loathsome  form  of  disease ;  it  dis- 
figured the  whole  body :  any  one  affected  with  it  was  banished  from 
society.  The  leprosy  was  a  figure  of  mortal  sin  in  the  soul;  for  mortal 
sin  makes  the  soul  loathsome  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  excludes  it  from 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Mortal  sin  is  a  grievous  offense  or  trans- 
gression against  the  law  of  God.  This  grievous  offense  may  be  com- 
mitted either  by  thought,  by  word,  by  deed,  or  by  omission.  To  consti- 
tute a  mortal  sin  the  internal  or  external  act  must  be  grievously  evil,  or 
considered  to  be  so  by  conscience ;  and,  furthermore,  the  act  must  be 
placed  with  full  advertence  and  full  consent.  If  any  one  of  these  condi- 
tions be  wanting,  the  sin,  which  otherwise  would  be  mortal,  becomes 
venial.  Any  number,  however  great,  of  venial  sins,  would  not  constitute 
a  mortal  sin.  Yet  venial  sins  lead  on  the  sinner,  step  by  step,  to  the  com- 
mission of  mortal  sin :  "  He  that  contemneth  small  things  shall  fall  by 
little  and  little  "  (Eccles.  xix.  i). 

Mortal  sin  is  so  called  because  it  kills  the  soul  by  depriving  it  of  its 
true  life,  which  is  sanctifying  grace,  and  because  it  brings  everlasting 
death  and  damnation  upon  the  soul :  "  The  soul  that  sinneth,  the  same 
shall  die "  (Ezech.  xviii.  20).  Mortal  sin  is,  therefore,  a  deplorable  evil. 
It  is  destructive  in  its  effects,  it  is  dismal  in  its  consequences.  It  carries 
with  it  the  gloomy  surroundings  of  death.  St.  Augustine  says  that,  "  a 
sinner  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin  carries  a  corpse  within  himself,  inasmuch 
as  he  carries  a  dead  soul  in  a  living  body." 

Mortal  sin  is  a  grievous  offense   against  God.     This   offense  is  im- 
measurable in  its  malice.     The  measure  of  an  offense  is  determined  by  the 
nature  of  the  offense  and  the  dignity  of  the  person  offended  in  relation  to 
the  dignity  of  the  person  who  offers  the  offense.     Therefore  mortal  sin 
(610) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.       .  511 

must  be  immeasurable  in  its  malice ;  for,  in  addition  to  the  offense  being 
of  its  own  nature  grievously  provoking,  it  is  offered  to  infinite  majesty, 
and  by  one  who  is  only  a  worm  of  the  earth  :  infinite  dignity  on  one  side, 
and  vileness,  and  dust,  and  ashes  on  the  other !  Who  could  think,  that 
man,  dependent,  insignificant  being  that  he  is,  would  thus  raise  himself 
up  in  defiance  of  the  Almighty?  and  strike  at  Him  who  sitteth  on  the 
throne  of  heaven  and  earth ! 

Mortal  sin  is  the  greatest  evil  upon  earth  or  in  hell.  Indeed,  it  is  the 
parent  of  all  evils,  it  is  the  parent  of  Satan,  it  is  the  parent  of  hell.  It  is 
a  monster  ravaging  the  world  and  causing  innumerable  souls  to  go  down 
into  the  gloomy  pit,  the  smoke  whereof  ascendeth  up  forever  and  ever ! 

Mortal  sin  committed  by  any  creature  of  God  is  sad  to  contemplate ; 
the  mortal  sin  committed  by  a  Christian,  however,  is  specially  enormous. 
A  Christian  at  his  baptism  makes  solemn  vows  to  renounce  Satan  and  all 
his  works  and  pomps,  and  agents ;  but  by  mortal  sin  he  violates  all  these 
vows  ;  he  deserts  his  colors,  he  crosses  over  to  the  camp  of  the  enemy ; 
he  joins  in  the  rebellion  against  God,  his  Leader  and  his  Captain ;  nay, 
more,  he  tramples  upon  the  Blood  of  his  Saviour,  he  prefers  Barabbas  to 
Jesus.  St.  Augustine  says  that,  "by  every  mortal  sin  that  a  Christian 
commits  he  sells  his  soul  to  the  devil,  and  for  his  salary  and  recompense 
he  receives  nothing  but  a  momentary  satisfaction,  a  brutal  pleasure,  a 
filthy  delight,  a  sordid,  perishable  interest." 

By  mortal  sin  the  sinner  laughs  at  God's  threats  and  despises  Him. 
Hence,  Almighty  God  complains  through  the  mouth  of  the  prophet  Isaias : 
**  I  have  brought  up  children  and  exalted  them ;  but  they  have  despised 
me  "  (Isai.  i.  2). 

The  Christian  who  commits  a  mortal  sin  is  guilty  of  ingratitude  to 
God ;  and  this  on  several  counts.  God  has  created  us,  and  conserved  us, 
and  watched  over  us  day  and  night,  and  clothed  us,  and  given  us  every 
breath  that  we  have  drawn.  He  has  prepared  a  kingdom  for  us  in  heaven, 
He  has  given  us  the  knowledge  of  it,  and  a  promise  of  it  if  we  remain 
faithful  to  Him ;  moreover,  the  Eternal  Son  of  God  has  come  down  in 
pure  mercy  and  love  for  us  from  His  throne  in  heaven,  and  taken  on 
Himself  our  human  nature,  with  our  slave-chains,  and  our  crimes,  and 
treasons,  and  sins  against  His  Father,  the  great  King.  He  has  merci- 
fully substituted  Himself  in  our  place,  and  generously  laid  down  His  life 
for  us  in  order  to  open  heaven  for  us,  and  to  rescue  us  from  sin  and  hell. 
We  are,  therefore,  bound  by  great  and  countless  titles  to  feel  gratitude, 
and  to  show  the  same  to  God.  But  when  mortal  sin  is  committed,  oh ! 
where  is  the  gratitude  ?  Alas !  mortal  sin  is  the  expression  of  ingrati- 
tude, base,  black,  and  shameful! — even  the  irrational  animal  will  show 
gratitude  for  a  morsel  of  food.     And  the  sinner,  by  committing  mortal 


512  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

sin,  shows  not  only  ingratitude,  but  "  crucifies  again  the  Son  of  God  and 
makes  a  mockery  of  Him  "  (Heb.  vi.  6).  It  is  of  this  that  the  Lord  com- 
plains in  the  words  of  David;  "If  my  enemy  had  reviled  me  I  would 

verily  have  borne  with  it But  thou,  my  friend  and  familiar,  who 

didst  take  sweetmeats  with  me  "  (Ps.  liv.  13). 

The  malignity  of  mortal  sin  appears  from  the  injury  which  it  does  to 
the  soul.  It  strips  the  soul  of  the  incomparable  advantages  and  beauties 
of  grace.  A  soul  in  the  state  of  grace  possesses  a  heavenly  beauty,  a 
nameless  charm,  a  halo  of  glory,  an  odor  of  sweetness.  There  is  nothing 
on  earth  to  compare  with  the  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  a  soul  in  a  state  of 
grace ;  it  is  the  reflex  of  God's  beauty.  The  surpassing  loveliness  of  God 
is  fully  mirrored  in  it ;  like  as  in  the  summer,  when  the  joyous  brilliancy 
of  the  noonday  sun  is  reflected  in  the  bosom  of  some  placid  lake.  In  the 
expressive  language  of  Scripture  a  soul  in  the  state  of  grace  is  a  "  queen," 
a  "  spouse  of  Christ,"  a  "  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  a  "  daughter  of  the 
King."  "  Hearken,  O  daughter,  and  see,  and  incline  thine  ear,  and  the 
King  shall  greatly  desire  thy  beauty,  for  He  is  the  Lord  thy  God.  All 
the  glory  of  the  King's  daughter  is  within,  in  golden  borders  clothed 
round  with  varieties."  A  soul  in  the  state  of  grace  shares  in  the  com- 
munion of  saints,  has  its  name  written  in  golden  characters  in  the  Book 
of  Life,  and  is  united  to  God  Himself  by  a  golden  link  of  love.  But  the 
moment  the  will  deliberately  consents  to  a  mortal  sin  the  link  of  love  is 
broken,  God's  friendship  is  lost,  the  beauty  of  grace  is  gone,  and  its  sweet- 
ness and  splendor  and  all  the  merit  of  its  good  works :  "  All  his  justices 
which  he  hath  done  shall  not  be  remembered  "  (Ezech.  viii.  24).  The 
sinner's  name  is  struck  out  from  the  Book  of  Life ;  he  is  robbed  of  his 
title  to  heaven,  which  without  sin,  neither  malice  of  man  nor  rage  of 
devils  can  rob  him  of.  He  is  disinherited  ;  he  is  degraded  ;  his  soul  be- 
comes a  black,  vile,  loathsome  thing,  an  abominable  slave  of  Satan,  a 
habitation  of  unclean  spirits,  an  object  of  God's  wrath.  God  is  dethroned 
in  the  soul,  and  the  *'  abomination  of  desolation  "  stands  in  the  temple  of 
the  living  God.     Oh  !  sad,  sad  is  the  havoc  of  mortal  sin  ! 

Again,  the  punishments  inflicted  by  God  upon  mortal  sin  show  how 
great  must  be  its  malice.  I  speak  not  now  of  the  devouring  fire  of  hell 
kindled  by  the  breath  of  God  in  punishment  of  mortal  sin,  I  speak  merely 
of  the  temporal  punishments.  And  these  have  been  swift,  and  signal, 
and  terrible.  It  was  for  mortal  sin  that  our  first  parents  were  driven  out 
of  Paradise,  stripped  of  original  justice  and  innocence,  and  condemned  to 
death  with  all  their  posterity.  It  was  for  mortal  sin,  the  murder  of  his 
brother,  that  Cain  was  cast  a  fugitive  upon  the  earth ;  and  at  last  sent 
down  a  victim  to  burn  in  hell ;  it  was  for  mortal  sin  that  the  flood-gates 
of  heaven  were  open,  and  the  foundations  of  the  great  deep  broken  up, 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  513 

and  all  the  human  race,  except  a  chosen  few,  summarily  swept  away 
from  the  face  of  the  earth;  it  was  for  mortal  sin  that  the  fire  and 
brimstone  fell  upon  the  two  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrha;  it  was  for 
mortal  sin  that  the  earth  opened  out  and  swallowed  down  Cor6  and  his 
wicked  companions  alive  into  hell ;  it  was  for  mortal  sin  that  the  Jews 
were  led  more  than  once  into  captivity ;  it  is  for  mortal  sin  that  God 
sends  wars  and  famines,  and  plagues  and  sickness,  and  nameless  miseries 
and  death. 

But,  again,  is  there  not  a  stupendous  fact  on  record  which,  trumpet- 
tongued,  speaks  forth  the  awful  malice  of  mortal  sin  ?  And  that  fact  is 
the  Passion  and  Death  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  Every 
stroke  of  the  hammer  which  drove  the  nails  through  the  hands  and  feet 
of  the  Man-God  tells  what  the  malice  of  mortal  sin  must  be ;  every  shud- 
der which  the  Saviour  suffered  in  His  agony  tells  what  the  malice  of 
mortal  sin  must  be ;  every  drop  of  His  Blood  which  marked  the  royal 
road  from  Gethsemani  on  to  Calvary,  tells  what  the  malice  of  mortal  sin 
must  be.  Yea,  more,  every  sentence  pronounced  upon  the  reprobate  by 
Him  wh6  tempers  justice  with  mercy  tells  of  the  malice  of  mortal  sin  ; 
every  fruitless  tear  of  agonizing  fire  shed  by  the  damned  below,  tells,  and 
shall  tell  for  all  eternity,  what  the  malice  of  mortal  sin  must  be ! 

These  truths  are  sufficient  to  convince  us  of  the  enormous  malice  of 
mortal  sin  ;  they  are  sufficient  to  strike  a  Christian  with  utter  horror  of 
it.  But  there  is  another  truth,  solemn  in  its  significance,  which,  taken  in 
conjunction  with  the  malice  and  punishment  of  mortal  sin,  is  enough  to 
arouse  the  guilty  sinner  from  his  lethargy  of  sin,  and  that  is  the  awful 
uncertainty  of  death.  You  know  not  the  day  nor  the  hour,  for  death 
will  come  like  a  "  thief  in  the  night  when  you  least  expect  him " 
(Matt.  xxiv.  43). 

The  all-merciful  God  promises  forgiveness  to  every  repentant  sinner, 
but  He  does  not  promise  to  give  time  or  all-moving  grace  for  repentance, 
if  the  conversion  be  put  off  from  day  to  day.  "  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Living  God."  "  They  shall  cry  to  the  Lord, 
when  it  is  too  late,  and  He  will  hide  His  face  from  them  at  that  time." 
'*  He  will  laugh  at  their  destruction.  They  shall  die  in  their  sins." 
"  Behold,  now  is  the  acceptable  time,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation  "  (2 
Cor.  vi.  2). 

If,  to-day,  you  hear  the  Lord's  voice  calling  you  to  do  penance,  harden 
not  your  hearts.  Resolve,  generously  and  wisely,  to  avoid  mortal  sin,  to 
fliy  from  it  as  from  the  face  of  a  serpent,  or  the  eye  of  a  basilisk.  Resolve 
to  do  full  penance  for  any  grievous  sin  which,  in  your  life,  you  may  have 
committed.  Make  no  delay  in  doing  penance.  Delays  are  dangerous. 
They  only  rivet  the  chains  of  the  enemy,  and  aggravate  the  disease  of 


514 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


sin.  If  robbers  had  plundered  your  house,  and  carried  off  everything 
precious  and  valuable,  how  speedily  you  would  pursue  them  in  order  to 
recover  what  they  had  carried  off.  If  you  were  attacked  by  a  dangerous 
disease  do  you  wait  till  the  last  moment  to  call  in  a  physician  ?  How 
gladly  you  submit  to  the  most  painful  cures,  and  bear  the  sharpest  opera- 
tions of  physic  and  surgery ;  make,  therefore,  no  delay  in  doing  penance. 
There  is  balm  in  Gilead,  there  is  a  physician  there.  There  is  full 
forgiveness  awaiting  you  at  the  tribunal  of  confession ;  there  you  will  be 
taken  kindly  and  gently ;  be  not  afraid  of  anything  but  remaining  away 
in  sin.  Oh !  joy  untold  when  the  lost  sheep  is  found,  when  the  prodigal 
child  returns  home,  and  the  best  robe  is  put  upon  him.  There  was  joy 
in  heaven  when  Peter  rose  from  his  fall ;  there  was  joy  there  when  Mary 
Magdalen  forced  her  way  through  all  obstacles  and  ran  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus,  and  kissed  them,  and  washed  them  with  her  tears  of  repentance 
and  wiped  them  with  her  hair.  Oh !  there  is  more  joy  in  heaven  over 
one  sinner  that  does  penance  for  his  mortal  sin  than  over  "  ninety-nine 
just  who  need  not  penance  "  (Matt.  xv.  7). 


DUTY    OF    PARENTS. 

Every  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit,  and  the  evil  tree  bringeth  forth  evil 

fruit." — Matt.  vii.  17. 

jT.  LIGUORI  says  that  from  this  parable  we  are  to  learn  that 
a  good  father  brings  up  good  children.  This  rule,  no  doubt, 
like  all  other  rules,  admits  of  exceptions ;  but  they  are  few. 
Hence,  we  see  how  necessary  it  is  for  parents  to  be  really 
good  themselves,  to  educate  their  children  properly,  and  to  bring  them 
up  in  the  fear  and  love  of  God.  "  Every  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good 
fruit." 

From  the  very  beginning  all  civilized  nations  have  looked  upon  the 
education  of  children  as  an  object  of  the  greatest  importance.  In  every 
country  and  in  every  age  institutions  have  been  erected  for  the  education 
of  youth.  Kings  and  Emperors  have  considered  such  institutions  as  neces- 
sary for  the  safety  and  well-being  of  the  State,  and  have  justly  believed 
that  without  them  they  could  have  neither  good  citizens  nor  useful  mem- 
bers of  society. 

The  education  of  children  has  been  ever  regarded  by  the  Church  with 
the  greatest  solicitude.  St.  Chrysostom  says :  "  We  have  a  great  deposit 
in  children  ;  let  us  attend  to  them  with  great  care."  They  are  the 
"  lambs  "  of  the  flock  which  the  Good  Shepherd  loves,  and  desires  to  see 
fed  as  well  as  the  sheep.  Children  are  specially  dear  to  Him  who- in- 
structed them  with  His  own  divine  lips.  "  Suffer  the  little  children," 
said  He,  "  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not "  (Mark  x.  14). 

To  parents  especially  belongs  the  duty  of  educating  their  children. 
With  them  the  children  spend  most  of  their  time.  Children  are  given 
by  God  to  parents,  not  as  a  present  which  they  can  dispose  of  at  pleasure, 
but  as  a  trust  for  which  a  very  strict  account  must  be  given  to  God.  St. 
Paul  strongly  rebukes  those  parents  who  neglect  the  careful  education  of 
their  children :  "  If  any  man,"  says  he,  "  have  not  care  of  his  own,  and 
especially  of  those  of  his  house,  he  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse 
than  an  infidel"  (i  Tim.  v.  8).  Some  parents  foolishly  imagine  that  they 
•do  their  duty  toward  their  children  if  they  provide  for  their  temporal 

(515) 


516  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

wants,  and  settle  them  down  comfortably  in  the  world.  But  this  is  a 
great  mistake ;  for  it  is  not  for  this  alone  that  children  are  given  by  God 
to  parents,  but  for  a  higher  object  far :  they  are  given  in  order  to  be 
trained  up  in  the  fear  and  love  of  God.  Upon  the  due  fulfilment  of  this 
duty  then  depends,  in  a  large  measure,  the  eternal  as  well  as  the  temporal 
welfare  of  both  parents  and  children. 

In  what,  therefore,  consists  the  proper  education  of  children?  St. 
Paul  sums  it  up  in  a  few  words.  He  says  it  consists  in  discipline  and  correc- 
tion. "And  you,  fathers,"  he  says,  "provoke  not  your  children  to 
anger,  but  bring  them  up  in  the  discipline  and  correction  of  the  Lord  " 
(Eph.  vi.  4).  A  good  father  should  frequently  gather  his  children  around 
him,  and  carefully  instil  into  their  young  susceptible  minds  the  "  disci- 
pline "  of  the  Lord,  the  holy  fear  and  love  of  God.  He  should  teach 
them  as  far  as  he  can  the  principal  mysteries  of  religion,  the  Unity  and 
Trinity  of  God,  the  Incarnation,  Death,  and  Resurrection  of  our  Saviour. 
He  should  teach  them  their  prayers,  explain  to  them  the  Commandments 
of  God  and  of  His  Church,  their  duty  as  Christians  to  God  and  His 
priests,  their  duty  to  their  parents  and  to  their  neighbors.  He  should 
explain  to  them  the  sacraments,  and  the  great  necessity  there  is  of 
receiving  especially  the  sacraments  of  Penance  or  the  Blessed  Eucharist 
frequently  and  always  worthily.  The  father  should  point  out  to  his 
children  the  dangers  as  to  faith  and  morals  to  which  youths  are  exposed 
in  these  evil  days  in  which  we  live,  and  how  impossible  it  is  for  any  one 
to  escape  perdition  unless  he  be  well  grounded  in  the  principles  of  virtue 
and  religion.  Nor  is  it  the  father  alone  who  is  bound  to  teach  the  child 
— the  mother  is  also  equally  bound. 

But  it  is  not  sufficient  for  parents  to  instruct  their  children  merely  by 
words,  they  must  teach  them  likewise  by  example ;  they  must  illustrate 
their  words  by  example,  practice  and  theory  must  go  hand  in  hand  to- 
gether ;  example  is  more  powerful  than  words ;  words  sound,  but  ex- 
ample thunders ;  words  teach,  but  example  draws.  What  effect  can  a 
parent's  words  have  upon  a  child,  when  the  child  sees  them  contradicted 
by  example  ?  Children  believe  their  eyes  rather  than  their  ears,  and  they 
take  the  parent's  example,  whether  good  or  bad,  as  the  test  of  sincerity. 
Children  are  influenced  much  by  their  parents'  lives :  hence,  we  some- 
times hear  them  say :  "  We  don't  want  to  be  better  than  our  parents." 
Nature  prompts  them  to  take  their  parents  as  their  particular  models, 
and  thus  the  lives  of  parents  are  reproduced  in  their  children.  What  a 
blessing  for  a  child  to  have  good  parents  !  With  what  irresistible  force 
does  that  good  parent  speak  to  his  child,  who  practices  what  he  preaches ! 
How  the  teaching  of  all  tjjie  virtues,  religious,  social,  and  domestic,  pre- 
vails from  his  lips  with  double  force  !     Parents,  if  your  children  see  you 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  517 

frequent  the  sacraments,  assist  regularly  at  Holy  Mass  and  at  sermons, 
abstain  from  all  unnecessary  intoxicating  drink ;  if  they  see  you  fly  from 
detraction,  and  quarrelling,  and  obscene,  double-meaning  words ;  if  they 
see  you  avoid  all  bad  company,  and  discountenance  those  vile,  dangerous 
books  and  novels,  then,  indeed,  your  children  will  go  often  to  Holy  Com- 
munion ;  they  will  be  regular  in  their  attendance  at  Holy  Mass  and  at 
sermons,  they  will  shun  bad  company  and  avoid  bad  books.  Oh  !  what 
an  alarming  deluge  of  bad  literature  there  is  in  the  world!  how  the  in- 
nocent minds  and  pure  hearts  of  children  are  corrupted  by  the  bad  books 
and  bad  novels  of  the  present  day ;  how  many  young  souls  have  been 
robbed  through  these  books  of  their  beautiful  baptismal  innocence ! 
What  a  vast  number  of  persons  Satan  has  at  work  in  the  garrets  and 
cellars  of  large  cities  writing  these  novels  according  to  his  suggestions ! 
What  an  immense  number  of  agents  he  has  circulating  them  throughout 
the  world  !  Indeed,  wherever  you  go,  you  find  the  press  teeming  with 
those  dangerous,  filthy  novels,  and  licentious  infidel  works.  They  stare 
you  from  the  windows  in  every  town ;  their  pages  are  full  of  insidious 
poison  ;  to  read  them  is  to  inhale  that  fatal,  abominable  miasma  which 
kills  the  soul.  Against  such  vile  and  dangerous  works  no  efforts  on  the 
part  of  parents  can  be  too  great  in  order  to  protect  the  faith  and  morals 
of  their  children.  A  parent  should  at  once  burn  any  such  book  that  he 
finds  in  the  house.  Oh  !  how  children  will  accuse  their  parents  in  the 
day  of  judgment  for  their  neglect  in  this  particular. 

Correction  forms  an  important  part  of  a  parent's  duty.  The  parent 
who  neglects  to  correct  his  child  is  guilty  of  sin,  and  brings  down  God's 
anger  upon  himself  and  his  posterity.  We  read  in  the  sacred  Scripture 
(i  Kings  ii.  23),  that  Heli  neglected  the  due  correction  of  his  sons,  and  for 
this  Almighty  God  severely  punished  him  and  all  his  posterity.  The  correc- 
tion of  a  child  is  the  mark  of  love:  "  He  that  spareth  the  rod,"  says  Sol- 
omon, "  hateth  his  son  ;  but  he  that  loveth  him,  correcteth  him  betimes  " 
(Prov.  xiii.  24).  "  Folly  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child,  and  the  rod 
of  correction  shall  drive  it  away"  (Prov.  xii.  15).  "The  child  that  is  left 
his  own  will  bringeth  his  mother  to  shame"  (Prov.  xxix.  15). 

Now,  how  is  this  correction  to  be  given,  for  there  is  room  for  too 
much  as  well  as  for  too  little  ?  A  good  Christian  parent  will  always 
temper  severity  with  mildness,  will  never  use  the  hard  word  when  the 
gentle  would  do.  Whenever  you  see  there  is  a  prudent  necessity  for  cor- 
recting your  children,  always  correct  them  with  mildness  and  calmness, 
and  uniform  gentleness  and  love.  Gentleness  is  the  master-key  of  every 
heart.  Show  your  children  that  you  correct  them  only  for  their  own 
good  ;  never  let  them  see  you  in  a  passion  or  anger  when  correcting  them. 
If  you  be  in  a  passion  at  their  conduct,  wait  until  the  passion  is  all  over, 


518  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

and  then  firmly  and  dutifully  correct  them,  otherwise  the  correction  will 
lose  its  value.  It  may  be  too  severe,  and  thus  be  sinful ;  and,  rnoreover, 
the  children  will  think  it  is  given  rather  through  anger  than  through  a 
real  desire  for  their  advantage  or  improvement.  The  father  and  mother 
should  always  act  in  concert  when  correcting  their  children :  they  should, 
as  far  as  possible,  be  of  one  mind  and  of  one  word,  and  they  should  be 
ever  and  always  guided  by  reason  and  religion. 

It  is  while  the  child  is  young  especially  that  the  good  parent  should 
be  busy  in  correcting  him,  otherwise  the  child  will  not  be  corrected  in 
time ;  after-remedies  come  too  late — the  twig  may  be  easily  bent,  but  the 
tree  cannot.  The  heart  of  a  child  is  like  wax  near  a  fire,  you  can  easily 
shape  it  as  you  please ;  it  is  like  a  well-cultivated  field :  if  you  sow  good 
seed  in  it,  it  will  in  due  time  produce  fruit  a  hundred-fold ;  it  is  like  a 
clean  sheet  of  paper,  you  can  write  on  it  good  things  or  bad,  and  when 
once  written  they  are  hard  to  be  effaced.  As  the  child  is,  such  is  the 
man :  "  A  young  man,"  says  Solomon,  "  according  to  his  way,  even  when 
he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it "  (Prov.  xxii.  6). 

God  has  attached  a  premium  or  reward  to  the  proper  education  of 
children,  inasmuch  as  the  parents'  virtues  and  good  dispositions  are  re- 
produced in  their  children.  A  child  will  generally  have  his  parents'  ways  : 
"  Instruct  thy  son,"  says  Solomon,  "  and  he  shall  refresh  thee,  and  give 
delight  to  thy  soul  "  (Prov.  xxix,  17). 

Oh,  what  a  delight  good  parents  take  in  teaching  their  children  ! 
how  carefully  they  point  out  to  them  their  duties ;  how  they  tell  them 
what  is  right  from  what  is  wrong ;  how  carefully  they  keep  their  chil- 
dren to  school  every  day,  and  prepare  them  for  their  first  Confession 
and  first  Communion,  and  for  their  Confirmation.  They  do  not  leave 
their  children's  education  altogether  in  the  hands  of  strangers,  for  they 
wisely  say  to  themselves :  "  Who  has  a  better  right  to  teach  the  child 
than  the  paVent  has  ?  who  is  nearer  to  the  child  ? "  Indeed,  it  must 
not  be  forgotten,  that  the  parent  has  opportunities  of  teaching  the  child 
which  no  one  else  has.  A  priest  may  preach,  and  exhort,  and  reprove, 
but  all  his  zealous  efforts  will  be  in  vain  unless  they  be  seconded  by 
the  exertions  of  the  parents.  He  cannot  prevent  the  harvest  of  ignor- 
ance, and  vice,  and  sin,  which  will  inevitably  come  through  the  neglect 
of  parents :  nor  can  he  easily  protect  such  parents  from  the  woe  which 
will  surely  visit  their  neglect.  Speaking  to  fathers  and  mothers,  St. 
Augustine  says :  "  As  it  is  our  duty  to  announce  the  Word  of  God  to 
you  in  church,  so  in  like  manner  it  is  your  duty  to  announce  it  at 
home  to  your  children  and  domestics."  And  St.  Chrysostom  says: 
"  Be  not  deceived ;  it  is  your  duty  to  instruct  your  children,  and  to 
kindle  the  fire  of  divine  love  in  their  hearts ;   your  mouth  and  your 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE. 


51» 


lips  are  their  books ;  you  are  their  teachers  and  preachers,  their  min- 
isters and  apostles." 

Oh  !  how  God  will  bless  the  efforts  of  good  parents,  how  He  will 
pour  down  His  graces  upon  themselves  and  upon  their  children  ;  and  how 
He  will  give  to  good  parents  to  see  their  children  surrounding  them  in 
bliss,  and  covered  with  glory,  and  majesty,  and  beauty,  and  splendor, 
in  the  magnificent  halls  of  heaven  ! — "  And  every  good  tree  bringeth  forth 
good  fruit." 


ON   SCANDAL. 

'  Woe  to  that  man  by  whom  scandal  cometh." — Matt,  xviii.  7. 

|HE  soul  of  man  has  been  created  by  God,  and  made  by  Him 
unto  His  own  image  and  likeness.  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  loves  souls.  He  gave  His  life-blood  away  as  a  purchase- 
money  for  them.  No  tongue  can  tell  the  length  and  breadth 
and  depth  of  the  love  of  Jesus  for  souls ;  His  heart  is  a  fire  burning  with 
love  for  the  souls  of  men.  He  came  down  to  cast  fire  upon  the  earth, 
and  what  wills  He  but  that  it  be  enkindled?  Through  love  for  souls  He 
has  sent  the  Paraclete,  the  Comforter,  who  came  as  a  Tongue  of  Fire  up- 
on the  Apostles.  From  all  eternity,  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Blessed 
Trinity,  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  have 
loved  the  souls  of  men,  and  they  yearned  with  infinite  yearning  for  them, 
and  drew  plans  of  infinite  wisdom  for  their  salvation,  and  prepared  king- 
doms and  pleasures,  and  glories  for  them  in  heaven.  But  scandal  robs 
God  the  Father  of  the  souls  which  He  has  lovingly  created,  it  robs  Jesus 
Christ  of  the  souls  which  He  has  purchased  with  His  own  Precious  Blood, 
and  it  interferes  with  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost — the  salvation  of 
souls. 

By  scandal  is  meant  any  word,  action,  or  omission,  bearing  at  least 
the  appearance  of  evil,  which  may  cause  our  neighbor  to  fall  into  sin. 
When  you  do  or  say  something  with  the  intention  of  leading  another  into 
sin,  you  commit  direct  scandal ;  when  you  do  or  say  something,  which 
you  have  reason  to  believe  will  be  an  occasion  of  sin  to  another,  though 
you  have  no  intention  or  desire  to  induce  him  to  commit  sin,  you  give 
indirect  scandal.  Grave  scandal,  whether  direct  or  indirect,  is  a  great  sin, 
for  it  opposes  the  designs  of  God,  destroys  the  beauty  of  God's  image  in 
the  soul,  keeps  back  the  soul  from  heaven,  and  plunges  it  into  hell !  As 
an  ambassador  of  Him  who  loves  souls,  and  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  I  have 
an  account  to  give,  and  hence  my  duty  and  real  love  of  speaking  on  this 
important  subject  in  plain  and  simple  language,  which,  I  hope,  will  have 
God's  blessing  going  with  it  to  your  hearts.  I  am  earnestly  determined, 
by  God's  grace,  to  take  every  step  to  destroy  scandals. 

By  scandal  the  devil  gets  done  for  him  what  he  could  not  do  himself; 
for  if  he  were  to  appear  visibly  all  would  fly  from  him,  so  hideous  is  he 
(520) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  621 

and  so  abominable.  Hence,  in  every  town  and  city  and  county,  and  in 
every  country  of  the  world,  the  devil  has  his  agents:  men  who  give  scan- 
dal to  their  neighbors,  who  do  or  say  something,  having  at  least  the  ap- 
pearance of  evil,  which  causes  the  neighbor  to  fall  into  sin.  But  upon  all 
these  God  has  pronounced  His  woe  and  His  curse:  "Woe  to  the  man  by 
whom  scandal  cometh ;  better  for  him  that  a  mill-stone  were  hanged 
around  his  neck,  and  that  he  were  thrown  into  the  depths  of  the  sea." 
The  scandal-giver  may  be  plausible,  and  apparently  respectable,  but  in  the 
eyes  of  God  he  is  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing. 

Scandal  is  committed  in  all  classes  and  ranks  of  society,  and  it  is  com- 
mitted in  many  and  various  ways.  It  is  committed  by  words  of  double 
meaning,  or  by  immodest  language,  by  cursing,  swearing,  or  blaspheming, 
or  by  bad  example,  especially  in  parents  and  others  who  should  set  a 
good  example.  Scandal  is  committed  by  drunkenness  and  by  the  sins 
which  are  caused  by  drunkenness,  and  which  can  neither  be  named  nor 
numbered,  so  detestable  and  so  innumerable  are  they.  Oh !  wasn't  that 
a  piercing  cry  which  came  from  the  scaffold  a  few  weeks  ago,  when,  as 
the  victim  of  drink  was  being  led  to  death  for  the  murder  of  his  wife, 
with  clasped  hands  and  on  bended  knees  he  thus  expressed  himself  to  the 
chaplain  who  attended  him :  "  I  have  one  request,  sir,  to  make  of  you 
before  I  die,  and  it  will  be  my  last.  When  I  am  gone,  write  to  the  Tem- 
perance Association,  and  beg  of  them  to  carry  on  their  good  work,  and 
may  God  bless  them  in  it."  Ah !  my  dear  friends,  how  many  "  weaker 
brethren  "  are  led  into  temptation  and  scandalized  by  seeing  the  drunken 
habits  of  their  neighbor.  How  can  they  escape?  How  can  any  one  ex- 
pect the  divine  special  protection  for  himself  or  his  imitators,  who  with- 
out necessity,  physical  or  moral,  chooses  to  lead  or  to  follow  in  the  path 
of  danger?  Rising  above  the  level  of  personal  considerations  to  the 
higher  ground  of  true  Christian,  fraternal  love,  we  find  it  is  expedient 
sometimes  to  abstain  even  from  what  is  lawful:  "All  things  are  lawful 
to  me,  but  all  things  are  not  expedient"  (i  Cor.  vi.  12).  St.  Paul  said 
that  if  the  eating  of  flesh  meat  should  prove  to  be  a  scandal  to  his  weaker 
brother  he  would  abstain  from  it  altogether :  "  Wherefore,"  said  he,  "  if 
meat  scandalize  my  brother  I  will  never  eat  meat,  lest  I  should  scandalize 
my  brother"  (i  Cor.  viii.  13).  And  the  same  he  said  about  "drink." 
Let  the  moderate  drinker,  then,  as  well  as  the  habitual  drunkard,  take 
heed  lest  by  any  means  this  liberty  of  his  should  be  so  used  as  to  encour- 
age the  weaker  brethren  to  drink,  and  thus,  perhaps,  prove  to  be  a  stum- 
bling-block and  a  scandal.  Is  your  example  a  safe  model  for  the  weaker 
brethren  ?  or  would  it  be  too  much  to  forego  your  claims,  and  "  deny " 
yourselves,  rather  than,  perhaps,  destroy  by  your  unnecessary  and  dan- 
gerous drink,  one  of  those  souls  for  whom  Christ  suffered  the  parching 


522  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

"  thirst "  and  died  ?  "  Let  us  not,  therefore,  judge  one  another  any 
more,  but  judge  this  rather:  that  you  put  not  a  stumbling-block  or  a 
scandal  in  your  brother's  way"  (Rom.  xiv.  13). 

We  should  not  endanger  our  brothers,  for,  are  we  not  "  our  brothers' 
keepers"  ?  Listen  to  the  archbishops  and  bishops  of  Ireland,  assembled 
in  national  council  at  Maynooth :  "  With  deepest  pain,"  said  they,  "  and 
after  the  example  of  the  Apostle  weeping,  we  say  that  the  abominable 
vice  of  intemperance  still  continues  to  work  dreadful  havoc  among  our 
people,  marring  in  their  souls  the  work  of  religion,  and,  in  spite  of  their 
rare  natural  and  supernatural  virtues,  changing  many  of  them  into  *  ene- 
mies of  the  cross  of  Christ,  whose  end  is  destruction,  whose  God  is  their 
belly,  and  whose  glory  is  in  their  shame.'  Is  it  not,  dearly  beloved,  an 
intolerable  scandal,  that  in  the  midst  of  a  Catholic  nation  like  ours,  there 
should  be  found  so  many  slaves  of  intemperance,  who  habitually  sacrifice 
to  brutal  excess  in  drinking  not  only  their  reason,  but  their  character,  the 
honor  of  their  children,  their  substance,  their  health,  their  life,  their  souls,, 
and  God  Himself?  .  .  .  Against  an  evil  so  wide-spread  and  so  pernicious^ 
we  implore  all  who  have  at  heart  the  honor  of  God  and  the  salvation  of 
souls,  to  be  filled  with  holy  zeal.  We  warn  parents  and  employers  that 
they  are  bound  to  set  in  their  own  persons  an  example  of  temperance  to 
those  who  are  subject  to  them,  and  to  watch  lest  through  their  own  neg- 
ligence those  entrusted  to  their  charge  should  fall  victims  to  drink 

We  bless  from  our  hearts  those  zealous  ecclesiastics  and  others  who,  in 
accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  Church,  devote  their  time  and  energies 
to  forwarding  the  cause  of  temperance."  I  may  add,  that  the  immortal 
Pontiff,  Pius  IX.,  has  recently  blessed  the  temperance  movement,  and 
every  one  who  takes  a  part  in  forwarding  it  in  any  way. 

Drink  is  the  powerful  engine  employed  by  Satan  in  this  age  for  wreck- 
ing homes,  breaking  family  ties,  making  widows  and  orphans,  filling 
100,000  dishonored  graves  every  year,  peopling  workhouses  and  asylums 
and  prisons,  forcing  man  into  exile,  and  sending  down  into  everlasting 
fire,  I  know  not  how  many  of  those  for  whom  Jesus  died. 

Scandal  is  committed  by  ridiculing  piety  and  virtue  in  others.  It  is 
committed  by  tale-bearing,  and  disturbing  neighbors  who  are  at  peace 
with  one  another.  "  The  tale-bearer  shall  defile  his  own  soul,  and  shall 
be  hated  by  all"  (Ecclus.  xxi.  31).  Scandal  is  committed  by  him  who 
wilfully  and  openly  neglects  to  observe  the  rules  of  the  Church.  It  is 
committed  by  showing  contempt,  stubbornness,  ill-will,  or  disobedience 
to  parents,  or  to  superiors ;  it  is  committed  by  injurious  words,  and  by 
refusing  to  ask  pardon  of  those  whom  we  have  offended  ;  it  is  committed 
by  him  who,  through  temporal  motive,  or  through  pride,  or  because  he 
thinks  he  is  made  of  better  clay  than  other  men,  or  through  any  other 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  52a 

insufficient  reason,  neglects  to  receive  the  Blessed  Eucharist  at  least  once 
a  year,  and  that  in  his  own  parish  and  from  his  own  pastor. 

Scandal  is  committed  by  writing,  or  by  circulating  bad  papers,  bad 
journals,  bad  books,  or  bad  novels.  Oh !  how  deplorable  is  the  damage 
caused  to  faith  and  good  morals  in  this  age  by  bad  books !  Oh !  how 
innocent  souls  are  sickening  and  dying  from  the  poisonous  breath  of  the 
serpent  which  issues  from  the  pages  of  bad  books  !  Bad  books  have  been 
justly  classed  amongst  the  four  chief  gates  leading  into  hell ;  the  other 
three  are  hatred,  injustice,  and  impurity.  A  bad  book  is  a  false  light, 
which  blinds  the  intellect  to  the  things  of  God.  It  is  an  enemy  in 
disguise.  It  is  an  insidious  serpent  which,  if  admitted  into  your  house^ 
will  surely  kill.  It  is  a  golden  cup  full  of  abomination.  A  bad  book  is  a 
bad  companion,  and  a  bad  companion  is  one  through  whom  "  scandal 
Cometh."  Better  for  you  to  pluck  out  your  right  eye  than  to  allow  it  to 
scandalize  you  by  reading  a  bad  book:  better  for  you  to  cut  off  your 
right  hand  than  to  allow  it  to  scandalize  you  by  receiving  with  it  a  bad 
book,  or  lending,  or  selling,  or  circulating  a  bad  book.  "  Woe  to  that 
man  by  whom  scandal  cometh ;  better  for  him  that  a  mill-stone  were 
hanged  around  his  neck,  and  that  he  were  thrown  into  the  depths  of  the 
sea,  than  to  scandalize  one  of  the  little  ones  for  whom  Christ  died." 

Scandal  has  one  special  characteristic  feature  which  makes  it  frightful 
to  contemplate.  And  that  is,  the  ease  with  which  it  is  committed,  and 
yet  the  difficulty  of  making  reparation.  If  you  have  unjustly  taken  your 
neighbor's  property  or  possessions  you  may  have  some  compensation  to 
make,  but  if  by  scandal  you  precipitate  an  immortal  soul  into  perdition, 
what  compensation  can  you  make  ?  Verily,  my  brethren,  no  compensation 
can  be  made;  for  out  of  hell  there  is  no  redemption.  If  you  scandalize 
one  man  you  infect  him,  and  he  in  his  turn  will  infect  all  others  with 
whom  he  comes  in  contact  during  life,  and  they,  all  others  again,  with 
whom  they  come  in  contact,  and  so  on,  and  the  responsibility  of  all  will 
ultimately  lie  at  your  door !  You  will  be  held  responsible  for  all  the  sins 
which  will  come  through  your  sin  of  scandal. 

The  sin  of  scandal  lives  and  breeds  in  the  world  long  after  the 
impenitent  scandal-giver  has  gone  down  to  hell.  Does  it  not  live  in  bad 
books,  and  bad  pictures,  and  bad  words,  and  bad  example?  Who  can 
tell  for  how  many  generations  our  bad  example  may  be  handed  down  ? 
Who,  then,  can  tell  all  the  sins  of  scandal,  known  and  unknown,  that  shall 
be  brought  in  judgment  against  us?  Two  young  persons  corrupt  each 
other  in  early  youth,  they  separate,  and  the  wide  world  comes  between 
them,  and  they  meet  again  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  Oh  !  how 
they  will  there  accuse  each  other,  and  cry  out  for  each  other's  condemna- 
tion !     The  blood  of  Abel,  which  was  spilt  upon  the  ground  cried  out  to 


624  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

heaven  for  vengeance  against  Cain.  Oh !  how  the  soul  of  him  that  is 
scandaHzed  will  cry  out  as  if  in  tones  of  thunder  against  him  that 
scandalized  it !  And,  perhaps,  there  is  some  one  in  hell  at  this  moment 
crying  out  for  vengeance  on  one  of  us  that  scandalized  him,  and  sent  him 
down  to  that  dreadful  abyss !  Let  him  that  is  innocent  thank  God  for  it, 
and  at  the  same  time  "  let  him  take  heed  lest  he  fall "  (i  Cor.  x.  12). 

And  now,  seeing  that  scandal  is  a  great  sin ;  that  it  kills  in  our 
neighbor  what  is  of  more  value  than  the  body  ;  that  it  is  a  common  sin, 
and  that  it  is  easy  to  be  committed,  but  difficult  to  be  repaired ;  that 
it  opposes  God  the  Father,  and  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ;  that  it 
interferes  with  the  work  of  the  Church  for  the  salvation  of  souls ;  that 
it  robs  Jesus  Christ  of  what,  to  our  knowledge.  He  values  more  than  His 
life,  and  that  scandal  brings  down  the  "  woe "  pronounced  upon  the 
scandal-giver:  let  us  conceive  a  horror  for  scandal,  and  let  us  make  a  firm 
resolution,  never  by  God's  grace,  to  commit  scandal.  If  any  of  you  have, 
unfortunately,  scandalized  your  neighbor,  and  if  you  feel  that  you  have 
robbed  Jesus  Christ  of  one  or  more  of  those  souls  which  He  purchased 
for  Himself  on  the  cross,  yet  despair  not;  even  for  the  scandal-giver  there 
is  pardon,  if  he  sincerely  repents  and  goes  to  Confession.  "  As  I  live," 
saith  the  Lord,  "  I  desire  not  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  rather  that  the 
wicked  be  converted  from  his  way  and  live  "  (Ezech.  xxxiii.  1 1).  God's 
mercy  is  above  all  His  other  works.  He  has  invested  His  priests  with 
His  own  Royal  powers  of  forgiving  all  sin:  "Whose  sins  you  shall 
forgive  they  are  forgiven  "  (John  xx.  28).  "  He  has  come  to  call  not  the 
just  but  sinners  to  repentance"  (Luke  v.  32).  There  is  no  one  more 
welcome  to  Confession  than  the  sinner.  Come,  then,  be  not  afraid 
or  ashamed ;  kindness  awaits  you  evermore  at  the  tribunal  of  Con- 
fession ! — "  Though  your  sins  were  as  red  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  made 
as  white  as  snow"  (Is.  i.  18).  The  Precious  Blood,  that  is  able  to 
wash  away  all  sin,  is  still  flowing  for  you  in  the  Sacrament  of  Penance. 
Come  to  it  then,  Jesus  lovingly  invites  you,  and  wash  your  souls  in 
its  bright  red  Baptism.  It  will  wash  away  every  stain  of  sin  from  you. 
It  will  make  you  clean  and  white,  and  innocent  once  more,  such  as  you 
lay,  after  Baptism,  on  your  mother's  arm,  when  the  angels  of  God  looked 
upon  you  and  loved  you,  and  prophesied  good  things  and  great  things 
about  you,  and  wished  for  the  day  of  your  admission  into  heaven,  there 
to  see  the  things  of  surpassing  beauty  and  loveliness,  there  to  hear  the 
voice  of  Mary,  sweet  as  the  key-note  of  heaven's  music,  "there  to 
possess  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  since  the  foundation  of  the  world '' 
(Matt.  XX.  34) ;  there  to  enjoy  the  Beatific  Vision — the  Face  of  God — for 
ever  and  ever.    Amen. 


CHRISTMAS    DAY. 

'  And  the  angel  said  to  them :  Fear  not,  for  behold  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of 
great  joy  that  shall  be  to  all  the  people ;  for  this  day  is  bom  to  you  a  Saviour, 
who  is  Christ  the  Lord,  in  the  city  of  David ! " — Luke  ii. 

MMEDIATELY  after  the  fall  of  our  first  parents  God,  in  His 
infinite  mercy,  promised  a  Redeemer,  by  whose  merits  man 
should  be  saved  from  sin  and  the  eternal  punishments  due  to 
it,  and  also  restored  to  his  primitive  right  to  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  But  this  promise  God  chose  not  to  fulfil  for  4,000  years.  This 
He  did  in  order  that  all  mankind  might  become  more  sensible  of  their 
misery,  and  that  they  might  more  ardently  desire  the  coming  of  the 
Redeemer.  Those  years  were  felt  slow,  and  dreary,  and  dismal,  and  even 
dreadful  by  reason  of  the  Deluge,  which  well-nigh  swept  away  the  whole 
human  race;  and,  again,  by  reason  of  the  lurid  fire  which  fell  upon  the 
sinful  cities  of  the  Plain,  and  instantly  burned  all  their  inhabitants ! 
During  those  years  many  a  sigh  and  prayer  was  offered  up  for  the  coming 
of  the  Messias.  The  ancient  patriarchs  and  prophets  prayed  that  the 
heavens  would  open  and  let  down  the  Just  One,  and  that  the  earth  would 
open  and  bud  forth  the  Saviour.  In  the  words  of  Isaias  they  prayed  : 
"Drop  down,  ye  heavens,  from  above,  and  let  the  clouds  rain  the  Just: 
let  the  earth  be  opened  and  bud  forth  a  Saviour;  and  let  Justice  spring 
up  together  "  (Is.  xlv.). 

But  at  length  the  "  plenitude  of  time  "  had  come,  the  seventy  weeks 
of  years  foretold  by  the  Prophet  Daniel  had  elapsed,  the  royal  sceptre 
Kad  passed  away  from  the  House  of  Judah,  and  "  tidings  of  great  joy 
were  brought  to  all  the  people,"  the  heavens  opened  and  flowed  with 
honey,  the  long-expected  Messias  came,  and  He  was  born  as  an  infant  in 
the  stable  of  Bethlehem !  "  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great 
joy  that  shall  be  to  all  the  people ;  for  this  day  is  born  to  you  a  Saviour, 
who  is  Christ  the  Lord,  in  the  city  of  David !  " 

The  Gospel  tells  us  the  circumstances  of  our  Saviour's  birth.  Caesar 
Augustus  was  at  the  time  Emperor  of  Rome  and  all  the  provinces,  in- 
cluding Judea.  He  was  a  proud  man,  and,  like  David,  he  wished  to  num- 
ber his  people.  And,  so,  he  commanded  that  all  his  subjects  should  go 
to  be  enrolled,  each  into  his  own  city.     And  in  obedience  to  this  decree, 

(525) 


526  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Joseph  and  Mary,  his  espoused  wife,  who  was  with  child,  set  out  from 
Nazareth  to  Bethlehem.  The  distance  was  ninety  miles.  They  walked 
all  the  way  on  foot,  and  when  they  reached  Bethlehem  no  one  would  give 
them  lodging.  "  There  was  no  room  for  them."  They  tried  everywhere 
about  the  village,  but  all  in  vain,  till  at  length  they  met  with  an  old  stable 
in  which  there  was  an  ox  and  an  ass.  And  into  this  stable  'Mary  and 
Joseph  went  for  shelter  from  the  cold  of  the  night. 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  when  they  were  there  Mary's  days  were  ac- 
complished that  she  should  be  delivered,  and  at  midnight  she  brought 
forth  her  first-born  Son,  and  wrapt  Him  in  swaddling-clothes,  and  laid  Him 
in  a  manger.  And  this  child  was  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour.  Thus  on 
Christmas  night,  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  seventy-nine  years  ago, 
the  long-expected  Messias,  the  Redeemer  of  us  all,  was  born.  And  forth- 
with the  heavens  burst  forth  with  joyous  strain,  and  the  angels  sang  with 
loud  celestial  voices :  "  Glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  on  earth  peace  to 
men  of  good  will ! " 

And  there  were  shepherds  out  on  the  snowy  hills  of  Judea  that  night 
watching  their  flocks.  "  And  behold  an  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  by  them, 
and  the  brightness  of  God  shone  round  about  them  ;  and  they  feared  with 
a  great  fear.  And  the  angel  said  to  them :  Fear  not,  for  behold,  I  bring 
you  good  tidings  of  great  joy  that  shall  be  to  all  the  people ;  for  this  day 
is  born  to  you  a  Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord,  in  the  city  of  David  !  " 

And  the  shepherds  went  over  with  haste  to  Bethlehem,  and  there  they 
found  Mary  and  Joseph,  with  the  Infant  Saviour  wrapt  in  swaddling- 
clothes,  and  lying  in  a  manger !  Oh !  who  can  tell  the  feelings  of  those 
humble  shepherds  as  they  looked  and  gazed  upon  the  new-born  Babe  ? 
How  His  little  cry  thrilled  through  their  ears,  and  touched  their  hearts 
to  tenderest  emotion !  How  overjoyed  they  must  have  felt  as  they 
thought  that  He  at  last  had  come  who  was  to  release  them  from  the 
slavery  of  sin  and  the  torments  of  hell,  and  who  was  to  make  them  par- 
takers of  the  joys  and  glories  of  heaven !  Oh,  what  deep  feelings  of 
homage  and  confidence,  and  gratitude  and  love  they  must  have  felt  on 
that  occasion  !  How  their  souls  were  rapt  with  astonishment  at  actually 
seeing  "  the  Word  made  Flesh  !  "  the  immense  God  of  heaven  narrowed 
within  the  compass  of  a  little  Babe !  Indeed,  well  might  they  have  ex- 
claimed :  "  Oh  !  the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  God !  How  incomprehensible  are  His  judgments,  and  how  un- 
searchable His  ways !  "  (Rom.  ii.  33). 

But  observe  the  striking  features  in  the  circumstances  of  His  birth. 
He  is  born  in  the  depth  of  winter,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  in  a  cold, 
comfortless  stable,  and  He  appears  first  of  all  (if  we  except  His  Mother 
and  St.  Joseph)  to  humble,  poor  shepherds.     Did  these  circumstances 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  '  527 

happen  by  mere  chance,  or  was  there  a  meaning  in  them  ?  Why  is  He 
not  born  in  some  one  of  the  gorgeous  palaces  of  the  earth,  in  the  midst 
of  riches  and  comforts?  Why  did  our  Lord  select  a  stable  as  the  place 
of  His  birth?  It  was  in  order  to  confound  the  pride  of  the  world.  It 
was  in  order  to  cure  the  haughty  and  the  proud-hearted.  It  was  in  order 
to  reduce  the  honors  and  distinctions  of  this  world  to  nought.  It  was  in 
order  to  lessen  the  boasting  of  the  high-born,  and  to  make  humility  ap- 
pear at  once  honorable  and  beautiful,  by  leading  the  way  in  His  own 
Royal  Person.  "  Learn  of  me,"  He  says  in  His  first  lesson,  "  to  be  meek 
and  humble  of  heart "  (Matt.  xi.  29).  He  was  born  in  poverty,  in  order 
to  teach  us  detachment  from  the  things  of  the  world.  He  honored  poor 
shepherds  with  His  first  interview,  and  He  said  for  the  comfort  of  the 
humble  poor,  and  of  the  rich  also  who  are  poor  in  spirit :  "  Blessed  are  the 
poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven !  "  (Matt.  v.  3). 

Let  us  ask  of  Jesus  to-day  to  give  us  grace  to  learn  the  great  lesson 
which  He  has  come  to  teach,  to  be  "  meek  and  humble  of  heart."  Let 
us  ask  of  Him  to-day,  as  a  birthday  present,  the  grace  whereby  we  may 
carry  on  vigorously  the  great  work  of  our  salvation  which  He  has  so  lov- 
ingly begun,  that  we  may  renounce  all  pride,  and  vanity,  and  self-seeking, 
that  we  may  seek  Him  who  through  His  ministers  forgives  the  sinner  in 
the  tribunal  of  Confession,  that  we  may  adore  and  worthily  receive  Him 
who  resides  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  who  was  born  as  a  sweet  little 
Babe  at  Bethlehem,  and  whose  birth  is  celebrated  with  universal  joy 
throughout  all  Christendom  to-day.  "  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings 
of  great  joy  that  shall  be  to  all  the  people ;  for  this  day  is  born  to  you  a 
Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord,  in  the  city  of  David ! " 


CORPUS  CHRISTI. 

And  the  Bread  which  I  will  give  is  my  Flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world." — ^John  vi.  52. 

I  HIS  day  has  been  set  apart  by  the  Catholic  Church  as  a  special 
day  for  celebrating  the  venerable  and  sublime  mystery  of  the 
Blessed  Eucharist.  It  is  called  the  Feast  of  Corpus  Christi, 
which  two  Latin  words  mean  the  Body  of  Christ,  for  Christ's 
Body  is  present  in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist.  When  the  Church 
was  celebrating  the  institution  of  this  Sacrament  on  Holy  Thursday,  she 
was  plunged  at  the  time  in  deep  sorrow  for  the  sufferings  of  our  Re- 
deemer, and  so  could  then  give  only  a  passing  smile  through  her  tears  of 
sorrow ;  but  on  this  day  she  exults  and  rejoices  with  her  whole  heart. 
She  calls  all  her  children  to  unite  with  her  in  celebrating  the  great  feast 
with  all  befitting  pomp,  and  splendor,  and  magnificence.  Hence  through- 
out the  whole  Catholic  world  to-day  there  is  joy  in  every  heart  and  joy 
upon  every  tongue.  The  bells  are  everywhere  ringing  for  joy,  the  organs 
are  pealing  gladness,  the  altars  are  decorated  with  rich  ornaments  and 
fair  flowers,  and  are  lighted  up  with  brilliant  lights.  Odoriferous  incense 
waves  within  the  sanctuary  and  ascends,  like  prayer,  up  to  the  Most  High. 
The  ministers  of  God  are  vested  in  the  costliest  robes,  and  with  grateful 
hearts  and  reverent  hands  carry  in  triumphal  procession  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  who  from  under  the  white  veil  around  Him  looks  upon  all  the 
scene,  and  graciously  blesses  His  people  as  He  passes. 

The  faithful  in  the  majesty  of  their  numbers  surround  the  altar  to- 
day ;  their  respectful  and  becoming  demeanor  in  church  speaks  in  silent 
yet  eloquent  language  of  the  faith  which  is  in  them :  they  believe  in  the 
Real  Presence  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist.  This  was  the 
faith  of  our  Celtic  forefathers;  they  received  it  as  a  gift  from  God, 
through  St.  Patrick,  1,400  years  ago,  and  they  have  lovingly  clung  to  it 
ever  since  ;  through  weal  and  through  woe  they  have  clung  to  it ;  they 
have  loved  it  with  a  love  even  greater  than  their  intense  love  of  national- 
ity. Irish  kings  with  an  enlightened  love  have  fought  for  it,  and  Irish 
men  and  women  have  nobly  laid  down  their  lives  in  the  defense  of  it. 
Thus  has  it  been  triumphantly  preserved  from  generation  to  generation, 
down  to  our  day.  And  indeed  it  is  well  worth  preserving,  for  it  is  the 
(528) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  529 

true  faith  taught  by  the  universal  Church  of  Christ  from  the  very  begin- 
ning, and  resting  upon  God's  own  infallible  words  :  "  The  Bread  which  I 
will  give  is  my  Flesh  "  (John  vi.  52).    "  This  is  my  Body''  (Matt.  xxvi.  26). 

It  was  at  His  Last  Supper  that  Jesus  appeared  under  the  form  of 
bread  for  the  first  time.  "  Knowing  that  His  hour  was  come  that  He 
should  pass  out  of  this  world  and  go  to  the  Father,  having  loved  His 
own  who  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  to  the  end"  (John  xiii.  i). 
Love  for  His  Father  called  Him  to  heaven,  love  for  nian  invited  Him  to 
remain.  And  so,  by  a  mystery  transcending  all  finite  intelligence  and 
power.  He  satisfied  His  love  for  both.  Wherefore,  He  took  bread  into 
His  sacred  and  venerable  hands,  and  blessed  it,  and  broke  it,  and  gave  it 
to  His  Apostles,  saying:  "Take  ye  and  eat:  This  is  my  Body"  (Matt, 
xxvi.).     "  If  any  man  eat  of  this  Bread  he  shall  live  forever :  and  the 

Bread  that  I  will  give,  is  my  Flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world He 

that  eateth  my  Flesh  and  drinketh  my  Blood  hath  everlasting  life :  and  I 
will  raise  him  up  in  the  last  day  "  (John  vi.  52,  55). 

You  perceive  that  under  the  form  of  bread  Jesus  gave  Himself  to  the 
Apostles  on  that  occasion.  For  He  said  to  them  :  ^^  Take  ye  and  eat:  This 
is  my  Body  !  "  Nor  let  any  one  say  with  the  unbelievers  :  "  How  can  this 
man  give  us  his  Flesh  to  eat?  Is  not  such  a  thing  impossible?"  Now, 
is  it  right,  or  even  reasonable,  for  any  human  being  who  has  only  a  finite 
intelligence  to  put  limits  to  the  hifinite  ?  Are  not  all  things  possible 
with  God,  no  matter  whether  we  understand  them  or  not  ?  He  can  make 
the  lilies  grow  though  we  do  not  understand  how  He  does  it  ;  and  if  this 
in  the  natural  order,  what  can  He  not  do  in  the  supernatural?  It  is  the 
duty,  then,  of  every  Christian  to  submit  his  reason  to  the  words  of  God, 
and  to  say  humbly,  like  St.  Peter :  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ;  Thou 
hast  the  words  of  eternal  life?"  (John  vi.  69).  Thou  hast  said  that  the 
Blessed  Eucharist,  which  to  our  senses  appears  to  be  bread  and  wine,  is 
Thy  Body  and  Blood  ;  we  bow  down  and  believe  that  it  is.  There  is  no 
man  more  intelligent  than  he  who  rises  above  the  earth  and  believes  in 
the  Unseen.  This  is  the  glory  of  our  faith,  and  its  merit  that  we  believe 
though  we  do  not  see  nor  understand.  "  Blessed  are  they  who  have  not 
seen  and  yet  have  believed  ! "  (John  xx.  26). 

When,  then,  the  bread  and  wine  are  changed  into  the  Blessed  Eucha- 
rist, the  whole  substance  of  the  bread  is  changed  into  the  Body  of  Christ, 
and  the  whole  substance  of  the  wine  into  His  Blood.  This  change  is 
called  Transiibstantiation.  And  though  no  part,  or  even  atom,  of  the  sub- 
stance of  the  bread  or  of  the  wine  remains,  yet  the  appearances  of  both 
are  permitted  purposely  to  remain  in  order  to  veil  the  dazzling  splendor^ 
of  the  Divinity,  which  none  but  the  Blessed  can  see  and  live. 

God,  by  His  great  Omnipotence,  directed  by  wisdom  and  love,  changes 


530  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

those  substances  as  easily  as  He  changed  the  waters  of  Cana  into  wine, 
or  the  waters  of  Egypt  into  blood,  or  the  dead  rod  of  Aaron  into  the 
living  flesh  and  blood  of  a  serpent.  But  perhaps  some  one  may  say  that 
in  those  instances  every  one  could  perceive  a  change,  but  in  the  Blessed 
Eucharist  no  one  can  see  any  change.  Before  what  is  called  Transub- 
stantiation  our  senses  testified  to  bread  and  wine,  and  they  testified  to 
the  same  after.  Are  we,  then,  to  believe  our  senses,  or  do  they  deceive  us? 
Well,  in  answer  to  this  plausible  objection,  which  is  a  fair  sample  of  the 
many  objections  raised  by  man  against  God,  I  need  only  say  that  our 
senses  do  not  deceive  us ;  for  they  can  never  testify  to  the  substance  of 
things :  the  most  they  can  do  is  to  testify  to  appearances.  Had  we  been 
present  when  the  Holy  Ghost  visibly  descended  upon  the  Apostles,  at 
Whitsuntide,  our  senses  would  have  testified  to  parted  tongues  of  fire ; 
and  had  we  been  present  again  when  the  same  Holy  Ghost  descended  upon 
our  Saviour  in  the  waters  of  the  Jordan,  our  senses  would  have  testified 
to  a  dove ;  yet  faith  assures  us  that  in  neither  case  was  it  a  parted  tongue 
of  fire  that  was  present,  or  a  dove^  but  the  self-same  Holy  Ghost.  Nor 
would  our  senses  have  deceived  us,  for  those  appearances  were  really 
present,  and  with  the  substance  underlying,  our  senses  had  nothing  what- 
soever to  do.  And  as  in  the  case  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  so  also  in  the  case 
of  Jesus  Christ  under  His  own  selected  appearances  in  the  Blessed  Eu- 
charist. Our  senses  do  not,  therefore,  deceive  us ;  for,  whilst  they  testify 
nothing  about  the  substance,  they  testify  correctly  to  the  appearances. 

Jesus  Christ,  then,  at  His  Last  Supper,  changed  bread  and  wine  into 
his  Body  and  Blood.  And,  forthwith.  He  gave  his  Apostles  then  present, 
and  to  their  lawful  successors,  that  is  the  priests  of  the  Catholic  Church 
for  all  time,  "01X0. power  to  do  the  same;  and  not  only  the  power,  but  also 
the  command  to  do  the  same:  "Z>^  this"  said  He,  "  in  commemoration  of 
me"  (Luke  xxii.  19).  This  power,  no  less  than  the  vow  of  chastity,  and 
the  sweet  power  of  forgiving  sin,  constitutes  part  of  the  mysterious  at- 
tractiveness of  the  priesthood.  Thus  is  Christ  the  invisible  High  Priest, 
continuated  visibly  in  His  priests  upon  earth  ;  they  have  always,  and  shall 
always,  exercise  this  power  given  them.  Such  is  the  belief  which  has 
been  held  by  the  faithful  in  all  ages.  In  the  sixth  session  of  the  Second 
Council  of  Nice  the  Fathers  assembled  said  these  expressive  and  infal- 
lible words :  "  Neither  Christ,  nor  the  Apostles,  nor  the  Fathers,  ever  said 
that  the  unbloody  sacrifice  which  is  offered  by  the  priest  was  an  image, 
but  His  very  Body  and  His  very  Blood  ;  for  this  was  not  what  the  Apostles 
learned  from  Him.  He  did  not  say  to  them,  *  Take  and  eat  the  Image  of 
my  Body,'  but,  *  Take  and  eat,  this  is  my  Body'  It  is  true  the  Fathers 
called  the  gifts  autitypes,  but  after  sanctification  they  are  properly  called 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ"    Again,  in  the  Fourth  General  Council  of 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  531 

Lateran,  it  was  decreed  that,  "  The  universal  Church  of  the  faithful  is  one, 
outside  of  which  no  one  is  saved ;  in  which  Jesus  Christ  Himself  is  the 
(invisible)  Priest  and  Sacrifice,  whose  Body  and  Blood,  under  the  appear- 
ances of  bread  and  wine,  are  truly  contained  in  the  Sacrament  of  the  altar, 
the  bread  being  transubstantiated  into  the  Body,  and  the  wine  into  the 
Blood." 

St.  Augustine,  comparing  the  hands  of  the  priest  to  the  chaste  womb 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  exclaims :  **  Oh,  venerable  dignity  of  priests,  in 
whose  hands  the  Son  of  God  is  continually  incarnated  !  "  And  St.  Chr>'- 
sostom  sublimely  adds :  "When  the  priest  is  celebrating  Holy  Mass  the 
skies  open,  and  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  angels  come  down 
from  heaven  to  assist  at  the  Divine  Sacrifice ! " 

Passages  innumerable  might  be  adduced  from  the  writings  of  the  early 
Fathers,  from  the  councils  of  the  Church,  and  from  the  sacred  Scriptures ; 
and  all  these,  united  with  the  great  voice  of  universal  tradition,  speak 
trumpet-tongued  in  all  ages  and  through  all  lands  of  the  Real  Presence  of 
Him  who  said  in  His  own  true  words  and  clear :  **  This  is  my  Body"  .... 
^'  The  Bread  that  I  give  is  my  Flesh  I  " 

Behold  the  mystery  by  which  Jesus  has  satisfied  His  twofold  love !  He 
has  satisfied  His  love  for  His  Father  by  ascending  into  heaven,  and  His  love 
for  man  by  remaining  on  earth  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist !  "  O  love  not 
loved !  O  love  not  known !  "  O  ye  heavens,  be  astonished  at  God's  in- 
comprehensible love  for  man  !  O  earth,  rejoice  and  be  glad,  for  great  is 
He  who  is  in  the  midst  of  thee,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel ! 

Jesus,  then,  remains  forevermore  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist ;  He  re- 
mains to  be  the  food  and  nourishment  of  our  souls.  He  invites  all  to 
come  and  receive  Him :  "  Come  to  me,"  He  says  in  His  own  loving  way, 
*'  come  to  me  all  you  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  burdened,  and  I  will 
refresh  you  "  (Matt.  xi.  28).  "  Take  ye  and  eat  "  (i  Cor.  xi.  24).  "  If  any 
man  eat  of  this  Bread  he  shall  live  forever."  "  And  the  Bread  that  I  give 
is  my  Flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world  "  (John  vi.).  Through  His  love  He 
desires  to  be  united  with  us,  for  union  is  the  property  of  love.  He  desires 
to  give  us  Himself  and  all  that  He  has:  His  Divinity,  and  Soul,  and 
Body,  and  Blood,  even  the  very  blood  which  He  received  in  the  chaste 
womb  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  Hence  He  justly  resents  His  love 
being  slighted  by  us.  He  even  commands  us,  under  pain  of  eternal  death^ 
to  approach  and  receive  Him.  "  Except,"  He  says,  "you  eat  the  Flesh 
of  the  Son  of  man  and  drink  His  Blood,  you  shall  not  have  life  in  you  '' 
(John  vi.  54).  It  is  no  less  certain  death,  then,  to  stay  away  from  this 
Divine  Sacrament  than  it  is  to  receive  it  unworthily !  Let  us  resolve, 
therefore,  to  correspond  with  the  loving  invitation  of  our  dear  Lord,  by 
going    to   receive    Him   in    Holy   Communion    frequently   and   always 


532  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

worthily.  St.  Liguori,  the  doctor  of  the  Universal  Church,  strongly 
recommends  all  the  faithful  to  go  to  Holy  Communion  at  least  once  a 
month.  The  Council  of  Trent  recommends  frequent  Communion.  "  For 
the  Blessed  Eucharist,"  it  says,  "  is  a  powerful  antidote  to  deliver  us  from 
our  daily  faults,  and  to  preserve  us  from  mortal  sin.  Oh !  how  our  fore- 
fathers loved  to  receive  the  Blessed  Eucharist  often.  Even  in  the  days 
of  dread  persecution,  when  a  price  was  set  upon  the  head  of  a  priest,  and 
it  was  a  crime  to  be  a  Catholic,  even  then  the  Irish  priest  laid  aside  his 
priestly  dress  and  faithfully  remained  in  disguise  with  his  people,  labor- 
ing with  them  as  an  ordinary  man,  and  when  Sunday  came  both  priest 
and  people  stole  away  to  some  distant  lonely  glen,  and  there  was  offered 
up  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  and  the  people  received  from  their 
Soggarth  Arooriy  often  in  the  year,  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Resolve,  I  beseech  of  you,  to  receive  the  Blessed  Eucharist  often. 
Show  forth  to  the  world  that  you  have  the  high  degree  of  refined  intelli- 
gence whereby  to  appreciate  as  you  ought  the  great  gift  of  God.  Value 
a  single  Holy  Communion  far  above  all  silver  and  gold,  and  worldly 
honors,  and  even  "  the  world  itself."  What  can  you  ever  receive  from 
the  hands  of  man  equal  to  the  Blessed  Eucharist  ?  Resolve  also  to  receive 
the  Blessed  Eucharist  always  worthily.  "  For,  whosoever  receives  un- 
worthily shall  be  guilty  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord,  and  eats  judg- 
ment, that  is,  damnation  to  himself,  not  discerning  the  Body  of  the  Lord  " 
(i  Cor.  xi.  29).  Secure  this  condition  by  making  a  good  Confession  before 
Holy  Communion.  Nor  let  any  one  be  afraid  or  ashamed  to  draw  near  to 
the  tribunal  of  Penance ;  for,  strange  to  say,  whilst  the  convicted  culprit 
is  condemned  at  all  other  tribunals,  he  is  only  acquitted  at  the  tribunal  of 
Penance.  The  priest  hearing  Confessions  holds  the  place  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
his  heart  is  modelled  on  the  merciful  Heart  of  Him  who  forgave  Peter, 
and  Magdalen,  and  the  Penitent  Thief.  Oh  !  would  that  I  could  describe 
to  you  how  the  heart  of  a  confessor  melts  with  tenderness  and  joy  when 
he  absolves  the  sinner,  and  says  to  him:  "  C^  in  peace,  thy  sins  are  for- 
given thee  !  "  Oh,  how  I  pity  the  man  who  remains  in  sin  whilst  there  is 
such  a  means  of  forgiveness !  Oh,  how  I  could  hang  upon  his  neck  and 
weep  !  No  matter  how  enormous  your  sins  may  be,  if  you  confess  them 
with  sorrow  they  shall  be  all  forgiven.  "  If  your  sins  be  as  scarlet  they 
shall  be  made  white  as  snow!"  (Is.  i.  18).  "Whose  soever  sins,"  says 
Christ  to  His  priests,  "you  shall  retain,  they  are  retained  ;  but  whose  so- 
ever sins  you  shall  forgive,  they  are  forgive?i  !  "  "  Whose  sins  you  shall 
forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them,  and  whose  sins  you  shall  retain,  they  are 
retained !  "  (John  xx.  23^ 

Thus  by  a  good  Confession  you  will  secure  to  yourselves  a  state  of 
grace;  and  in  this  state  approach  confidently,  with  a  lively  faith  and  an 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  533 

ardent  love,  to  receive  Him  who  is  the  "  Living  Bread  which  came  down 
from  heaven,  whereof  if  any  man  eat  he  shall  live  forever!  "  Jesus  will 
abide  with  you  and  transform  you  into  Himself.  He  will  be  united  with 
you,  so  that  you  shall  be  two  in  one.  "  This  union,"  says  St.  Chrysostom, 
"  is  the  same  as  if  two  species  of  wax  were  melted  into  each  other." 
Through  this  union  He  will  produce  in  you  great  and  wonderful  effects : 
He  will  strengthen  you  against  temptations,  He  will  fill  you  with  every 
grace,  for  He  is  the  Author,  and  the  Source,  and  the  fountain  it.=elf  of 
all  grace,  He  will  support  you  on  your  journey  to  heaven.  The  bread 
which  the  angel  ordered  the  Prophet  Elias  to  eat  in  the  desert  sustained 
him  on  his  journey  to  the  mountain  of  Horeb  ;  the  blood  of  the  Paschal 
Lamb,  sprinkled  on  the  doorpo§ts,  protected  the  Israelites  from  the  de- 
stroying angel ;  Zaccheus,  the  Publican,  was  promised  salvation  for  lodg- 
ing the  Saviour  under  his  roof  ;  a  woman  afflicted  with  a  certain  disease 
for  many  years  was  immediately  cured  by  touching  the  hem  of  the 
Saviour's  garment.  What,  then,  must  be  the  effect  of  the  Blessed 
Eucharist  in  the  soul?  Oh!  how  eloquently  does  Jesus  Himself  express 
it:  "If  any  man,"  He  says,  "eat  of  this  Bread,  he  shall  live  forever:  and 

the  Bread  that  I  will  give,  is  my  Flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world He 

that  eateth  my  Flesh,  and  drinketh  my  Blood,  hath  everlasting  life:  and 
I  will  raise  him  up  in  the  last  day  "  (John  vi.  52,  55). 

O  Jesus !  I  adore  Thee  present  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  of  the  altar. 
Thy  Holy  Presence  amongst  us  here,  my  Lord  and  my  God,  is  cause  for 
the  liveliest  rapture.  Thou  dost  remain  with  us  to  be  visited,  and  Thou 
dost  invite  us  all  to  visit  Thee  ;  and  who,  O  Lord,  is  so  worthy  of  a  visit 
from  us,  or  indeed  of  all  our  visits,  as  Thou  art  ?  Whose  society  can  we 
be  in  so  honorable,  or  so  profitable,  or  so  sweet  as  Thine  ?  Thou  art  the 
Friend  of  the  friendless,  the  Father  of  the  fatherless,  the  Consoler  of  the 
afflicted,  the  source  from  which  every  good  that  we  can  expect  is  to  come. 
Thou  art  the  most  amiable  of  all,  and  Thou  art  only  too  happy  to  receive 
all  who  come  to  visit  Thee.  Thou  dost  send  no  one  away  empty.  "  Come 
to  me,"  Thou  sayest,  "  all  you  that  labor  and  are  burdened,  and  I  will  re- 
fresh you  ! " 

O  Jesus,  grant  that  we  may  know  how  to  love  thee!  Grant  that  we 
may  know  how  to  show  forth  to  the  world  our  love  of  Thee,  that  we  may 
win  all  hearts  to  love  Thee  during  life  ;  so  that  at  death  God  may  welcome 
us  all  to  His  happy  home,  and  press  us  to  His  Sacred  Heart,  and  put 
aside  the  white  veil  of  the  Host,  and  show  us  His  sweet  face,  which  for 
all  eternity  is  to  be  "  a  Thing  of  Beauty  !  "  "  If  any  man  eat  of  this  Bread, 
he  shall  live  forever :  and  the  Bread  that  I  give,  is  my  Flesh  for  the  life 

of  the  world He  that  eateth  my  Flesh,  and  drinketh  my  Blood,  hath 

everlasting  life :  and  I  will  raise  him  up  in  the  last  day  "  (John  vi.  52,  55). 


ON   LOVE  OF  OUR  NEIGHBOR. 

'  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  you  are  my  disciples,  if  you  have  love  one  for 

another." — ^JOHN  xiii.  35. 

OVE  for  his  neighbor  is  the  characteristic  of  a  true  Christian  : 
"  By  this,"  says  Christ,  "  shall  all  men  know  that  you  are  my 
disciples,  if  you  have  love  one  for  another"  (John  xiii.  35). 
The  heathens  knew  all  the  early  Christians  by  this  mark :  "  See 
those  Christians,"  they  said,  "  how  they  love  one  another  !  "  They  seemed 
to  have  but  one  heart  and  one  soul.  Christ  Himself  took  special  care  ta 
inculcate  this  lesson  of  love  upon  all  His  followers:  "This  is  my  Com- 
mandment," He  said,  "  that  you  love  one  another,  as  I  have  loved  you  " 
(John  XV.  12).  "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself"  (Matt.  xxii. 
39).  "  Love  your  enemies,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you.  Bless  them 
that  curse  you,  and  pray  for  them  that  calumniate  you  "  (Luke  vi.  2"],  28). 
St.  John  was  never  satisfied  but  when  he  was  preaching  on  fraternal  love ; 
even  in  his  old  age,  when  he  was  no  longer  able  to  entertain  his  audience 
with  a  longer  discourse,  he  would  content  himself  with  this  brief  exhor- 
tation :  "  My  brethren,  love  one  another."  And,  when  a  friend  asked 
him  why  he  repeated  this  sermon  so  often,  he  replied,  says  St.  Jerome, 
"  Love  of  our  neighbor  is  the  command  of  the  Lord,  and  the  observance 
of  it  alone  suffices  for  life  everlasting."  And  St.  Paul  says :  "  All  the  law 
is  fulfilled  in  one  word  :  *  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself ' "  (Gal. 

V.  13)- 

No  one  can  love  God  without  loving  his  neighbor.  St.  John  writes  : 
"  If  any  man  say,  I  love  God,  and  hateth  his  brother,  he  is  a  liar.  For 
he  who  loveth  not  his  brother,  whom  he  seeth,  how  can  he  love  God  whom 
he  seeth  not  ?  "  (John  iv.  20).  And  again  :  "  He  that  loveth  not,  abideth 
in  death  "  (i  John  iii.  14).  St.  Augustine  adds,  that  such  a  person  is  dead, 
not  only  because  he  is  stricken  with  the  wound  of  a  grievous  sin,  but  be- 
cause the  root  of  every  sin  is  planted  in  his  soul.  Without  love  of  the 
neighbor,  neither  prayer,  nor  alms,  nor  sacraments,  nor  sacrifice  is  of  any 
avail  before  God.  God  distinctly  says :  "  If,  therefore,  thou  offer  thy  gift 
at  the  altar,  and  there  thou  remember  that  thy  brother  hath  anything 
against  thee,  leave  there  thy  offerings  before  the  altar,  and  go  first  to  be 
reconciled  to  thy  brother,  and  then  coming,  thou  shalt  ofifer  thy  gift  '* 
(534) 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE.  535 

(Matt.  V.  23,  24).  Though  you  should  distribute  all  your  goods  to  feed 
the  poor,  though  you  should  deliver  your  body  to  be  burned,  and  have 
not  love  for  your  neighbor,  it  will  all  profit  you  nothing.  Love,  then,  is 
the  fulfilment  of  the  law.  "  Love,"  says  St.  Ambrose,  "  is  the  root  of 
every  good  deed." 

Now,  what  is  the  standard  of  true  fraternal  love?  What  should  be 
the  model  of  true  love?  St.  Paul  says,  that  the  love  of  our  neighbor 
should  be  modelled  upon  the  love  and  union  that  exists  between  the 
members  of  the  human  body.  "  The  body  is  one,  and  hath  many  mem- 
bers  So  also  is  Christ"  (i   Cor.  xii.  12).     As  all  the  members  of 

the  body  mutually  help  and  assist  each  other,  so  should  all  the  members 
of  the  human  race  mutually  help  and  assist  each  other.  We  should  then 
relieve  the  distressed,  we  should  console  the  afflicted,  we  should  pray  for 
the  wicked ;  in  a  word,  we  should  take  care  of  our  neighbor.  God  has 
committed  to  each  of  us  the  care  of  his  neighbor.  We  should  take  care 
of  our  neighbor's  soul  as  well  as  of  his  body.  St.  Bernard,  on  this  subject, 
says :  "  The  ass  falls  and  is  soon  raised  up  again  ;  a  soul  perishes  and  no 
one  attends  to  it." 

Again,  the  love  of  our  neighbor  should  be  modelled  upon  the  love 
that  we  have  for  ourselves.  Every  man  loves  himself  with  a  true  and 
sincere  love :  a  love  that  is  tender,  constant,  and  active ;  and  it  is  a  love 
like  this  that  we  should  have  for  our  neighbor.  We  should  never  injure 
our  neighbor  in  his  person,  property,  or  character ;  we  should  wish  well 
%o  him,  and  speak  kindly  of  him ;  we  should  pray  for  him,  and  always 
assist  him  as  far  as  we  are  able  in  his  spiritual  and  corporal  necessities. 
We  should  do  to  our  neighbor  as  we  would  wish  he  should  do  to  us.  As 
"you  would,"  says  Christ,  "that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  you  also  to 
them  "  (Matt.  vii.  12).  We  should  take  care  to  love  our  neighbor,  not  in 
word  or  in  tongue,  but  in  deed  and  in  truth. 

Finally,  our  love  for  our  neighbor  should  be  modelled  upon  the  love 
that  Christ  has  for  us.  Christ  has  given  His  life  for  us.  "  In  this  we 
have  known  the  charity  of  God,  because  He  has  given  His  life  for  us ; 
and  we  ought  also  to  give  our  life  for  our  brethren "  (1  John  iii.  16). 
Christ  has  loved  us  in  God  and  for  God ;  therefore,  we  should  love  our 
neighbor  in  God  and  for  God.  The  love  of  our  neighbor  must  come 
through  our  love  of  God ;  it  must  grow  out  of  it,  as  a  tree  from  its  root. 

Our  love,  like  Christ's,  must  extend  to  all  men,  good  and  bad ;  there 
is  no  exception  to  be  made,  even  of  those  who  differ  from  us  in  religion, 
or  those  who  inflict  injuries  upon  us.  We  must  love  those  who  injure  us 
as  well  as  those  who  benefit  us ;  "  For,"  says  Christ,  "  if  you  love  them 
that  love  you,  what  reward  shall  you  have ;  do  not  even  the  pub- 
licans this  ?  "  (Matt.  V.  46).    God  wishes  that  we  love  our  enemies  as  well 


536 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


as  our  friends.  "  Love  your  enemies,"  says  Christ ;  "  do  good  to  them 
that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that  persecute  and  calumniate  you  " 
(Matt.  V.  44).  If  your  neighbor  has  injured  and  insulted  you,  remember 
he  has  to  the  same  extent,  and  infinitely  more,  insulted  God ;  yet  God 
loves  him  ;  why,  then,  should  you  not  love  him  too  ?  God's  sun  shines 
upon  the  just  and  the  unjust  ;  God's  refreshing  rains  fall  upon  the  inno- 
cent and  the  guilty ;  God's  love,  therefore,  extends  even  to  your  enemy. 
Is  it  too  much  to  expect  that  you  should  love  him  whom  God  thus 
loves  ?  Ah,  my  brethren,  I  fear  we  are  sadly  wanting  in  real  love  for  our 
neighbor !  I  fear  we  are  too  ready  at  detracting,  and  backbiting,  and 
calumniating  our  neighbor.  St.  Augustine  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  a 
detractor.  He  had  always  hung  up  on  the  walls  of  his  dining-room  the 
remarkable  inscription  :  '■^No  detractors  are  allowed  at  this  table  !  "  The 
Sacred  Scriptures  condemn  the  tale-bearer  in  the  strongest  language. 
"**  The  tale-bearer  shall  defile  his  own  soul,  and  shall  be  hated  by  all :  and 
he  that  shall  abide  with  him  shall  be  hateful :  the  silent  and  wise  man 
shall  be  honored"  (Ecclus.  xxi.  31).  "The  detractor  is  the  abomination 
of  men  !  "  (Prov.  xxiv.  9).  St.  Liguori  boldly  says  that,  "  He  who  speaks 
uncharitably  of  his  neighbor  has  the  devil  in  his  mouth,  and  he  who  list- 
ens to  him  has  the  devil  in  his  ear !  " 

Let  us,  then,  love  our  neighbor  with  a  true  and  sincere  love.  Let  us 
love  him  with  the  love  which  we  should  have  for  one  who  has  been  made 
to  the  image  and  likeness  of  God,  and  redeemed  with  the  Precious  Blood 
of  Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  love  him  as  we  should  love  one  who  has  beer> 
created,  like  ourselves,  to  enjoy  God  for  all  eternity  in  heaven ! 


PCg  '^xiU  is  ^ttttsfee^. 


ON   DEATH. 

"  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die ! " — Heb.  ix.  27. 

jHE  frequent  and  serious  consideration  of  death  is  well  cal- 
culated to  produce  the  most  salutary  effects  in  the  soul. 
Hence,  every  wise  man  thinks  frequently  over  his  death.  The 
very  Pagans  made  death  the  subject  of  their  frequent  reflec- 
tion :  they  even  preserved  the  ashes  of  their  departed  friends  in  order  to 
remind  them  of  this  great  truth.  The  Roman  victors  in  their  triumphal 
march  were  reminded  of  death  by  heralds  who  proclaimed  aloud  :  *'  RE- 
MEMBER THAT  THOU  ART  TO  DIE ! "  The  Grecian  Emperors  at  their 
coronation  were  emphatically  reminded  that  they  were  to  die ;  the  Egyp- 
tians at  their  public  feasts  had  striking  emblems  of  death  placed  before 
them ;  and  all  this  both  Romans  and  Grecians  and  Egyptians  did  in 
order  that  they  should  never  lose  sight  of  death.  At  the  coronation  of 
every  new  Pope  it  is  still  usual  to  burn  flax  or  stubble  to  remind  him  that 
he  is  but  mortal.  And  the  Church  on  Ash-Wednesday  reminds  her 
children  of  death  by  placing  ashes  upon  their  foreheads,  and  addressing 
them  in  the  solemn  words  pronounced  by  Almighty  God  upon  our  first 
parents  after  their  fall :  "  Remember,  man,  '  thou  art  but  dust,  and  into 
dust  thou  shalt  return!'"  (Gen.  iii.  19). 

"  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die  !  "  The  irrevocable  sentence 
of  ^'■Death  "  has  been  already  pronounced  by  God  against  all  men,  old  and 
young,  rich  and  poor,  just  and  unjust,  learned  and  unlearned.  There  is 
no  one  that  doubts  he  shall  die  ;  thus  death  is  certain.  As  all  the  great 
heroes  of  antiquity,  and  the  mighty  men  of  old,  kings  and  warriors  and 
renowned  statesmen,  have  died,  so,  too,  shall  their  successors  die.  As  all 
the  generations  in  the  past  have  died,  so  shall  we  too.  In  a  few  years 
hence,  perhaps  in  a  much  shorter  time,  we  shall  die ;  our  bodies  shall  be- 
come pale  and  stiff,  and  even  loathsome ;  they  shall  be  wrapped  in  a 
shroud,  inclosed  in  a  coffin,  and  carried  away  to  be  buried  in  the  earth, 
there  to  be  eaten  up  by  worms,  and  to  moulder  away  into  dust.  For  it  is 
written :  "  Dust  thou  art,  and  into  dust  thou  shalt  return !  "  (Gen.  iii.  19). 
No  man  can  resist  the  stroke  of  death.  St.  Augustine,  writing  on  the 
twelfth  Psalm,  says :  "  Fires,  waters,  and  the  sword  are  resisted ;  kings  are 
resisted  ;  death  comes  ;  who  resists  it  ?  "    We  cannot  put  off  our  death 

(537) 


538  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

even  for  one  moment.  An  hour  shall  strike,  and  beyond  that  moment 
we  cannot  extend  our  life.  "  The  days  of  man  are  short,  and  the  number 
of  his  months  is  with  Thee :  Thou  hast  appointed  his  bounds,  which  can- 
not be  passed  "  (Job  xiv.  5).  These  "  bounds  "  are  narrow  indeed  ;  "  For 
what  is  your  life  ?  It  is  a  vapor  which  appeareth  for  a  little  while " 
(James  iv.  15).  "My  days,"  says  Job,  ix.  25,  "have  been  swifter  than  a 
post !  "  And  again,  "  Man  born  of  a  woman,  living  for  a  short  time,  is 
filled  with  many  miseries.  Who  cometh  forth  like  a  flower  and  is  de- 
stroyed! "  (Job  xiv.  2).  "All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory  thereof  as 
the  flowers  of  the  field  "  (Is.  xl.  6). 

Everything  in  this  world  helps  to  remind  us  of  death :  the  pictures  of 
our  deceased  friends,  their  books,  and  clothes,  and  furniture ;  the  houses 
which  they  built,  the  farms  which  they  purchased,  the  beads  upon  which 
they  said  their  prayers,  the  bench  in  the  church  on  which  they  knelt  on  the 
Sundays  long  ago.  Are  we  not  reminded  of  death,  too,  when  we  see  the 
leaves  fall  off  from  the  trees  in  autumn,  when  we  see  the  grass  and  plants 
and  flowers  wither  and  decay  ?  Do  not  the  deaths  of  our  neighbors  and 
friends  around  us  perpetually  remind  us  that  we,  too,  must  die?  The 
clouds  that  come  and  go  in  the  sky  remind  us  of  death ;  the  waters  that 
come  from  the  sea  and  return  again  remind  us  of  death.  The  woman  of 
Thecua  correctly  remarked  to  David :  "  We  all  die,  and  like  waters  that 
return  no  more,  we  fall  down  into  the  earth ! "  (2  Kings  xiv.  14). 
Every  breath  that  we  draw  reminds  us  of  our  last  breath,  every  step  that 
we  take  reminds  us  of  our  last  step,  which  shall  be  into  the  grave  !  "  It 
is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die  !  "     Thus  death  is  most  certain. 

Death  is  also  uncertain.  It  is  uncertain  as  to  time,  and  place,  and 
circumstances.  No  one  can  tell  when  he  is  to  die,  nor  where,  nor  how : 
whether  he  is  to  die  this  year,  or  next,  or  how  soon  ;  whether  he  shall  die 
on  the  road,  or  in  the  field,  or  in  the  house ;  whether  he  shall  die  after  a 
lingering  illness  and  fortified  with  the  rites  of  the  Church,  or  die  on  a 
sudden.  We  know  not  whether  at  death  we  shall  be  ushered  into  the 
presence  of  God  in  a  state  of  grace,  or  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin.  God  has 
purposely  concealed  all  things  from  us  in  order  that  we  may  lead  good 
lives  and  be  always  prepared  for  death.  "  Of  death,"  says  St.  Gregory^ 
"  we  are  uncertain,  that  we  may  be  found  always  prepared  for  death  !  " 
Jesus  Christ  Himself,  anxious  for  our  salvation,  reminds  us  of  the  uncer- 
tainty of  death.  "  Be  you  then  also  ready,"  He  says,  "  for  at  what  hour 
you  think  not  the  Son  of  Man  will  come !  "  (Luke  xii.  40).  And  again  : 
"  Watch  ye,  therefore,  because  ye  know  not  what  hour  your  Lord  will 
come ;  but  this  know  ye,  that  if  the  good  man  of  the  house  knew  at 
what  hour  the  thief  would  come,  he  would  certainly  watch,  and  would 
not  suffer  the  house  to  be  broken  open.     Wherefore,  be  you  also  ready^ 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  539 

because  at  what  hour  you  know  not  the  Son  of  Man  will  come !  "  (Matt, 
xxiv.  42).  It  is  then  but  reasonable  and  wise  to  expect  death  at  every 
time  and  at  every  place.  "  Death,"  says  St.  Bernard,  "  waits  for  thee 
everywhere  ;  do  thou  everywhere  wait  for  it." 

The  moment  of  death  will  decide  our  fate  for  all  eternity.  As  the 
tree  falls  so  shall  it  lie  !  "  If  the  tree  fall  to  the  south,  or  to  the  north, 
in  what  place  soever  it  shall  fall,  there  shall  it  lie  !  "  (Eccles.  xi.  3).  If  we 
die  well  we  shall  be  happy  for  all  eternity,  but  if  we  die  in  mortal  sin  we 
shall  be  forever  miserable.     And  the  loss  will  be  our  own. 

Death  is,  as  it  were,  the  echo  of  life ;  at  death  all  the  good  and  bad 
deeds  of  our  whole  life  shall  come  out  for  judgment.  God  will  judge  all 
the  thoughts,  and  words,  and  actions,  and  omissions  of  our  life.  He  will 
require  an  exact  account  of  our  stewardship :  how  we  have  used  the 
talents,  and  graces,  and  the  worldly  goods  which  He  gave  us !  how  we 
have  used  the  faculties  of  our  soul,  and  the  powers  of  our  body ;  for  our 
body,  and  our  soul,  and  our  worldly  goods  are  all  God's  property,  given 
to  us  in  trust,  and  are  therefore  to  be  accounted  for.  And  woe  to  the 
man  who  neglects  to  use  all  his  faculties  and  powers  in  the  service  of 
God !  The  man  in  the  Gospel  who  buried  his  talent  was  cast  into  ex- 
terior darkness ;  the  "  tree,"  also,  that  produced  no  fruit  was  ordered  to 
be  cut  down  and  cast  into  the  fire ! 

To  the  man  whose  heart  is  set  upon  the  riches  and  honors  of  this  world 
death  appears  terrible.  On  whatever  side  he  looks,  he  finds  only  torture  ; 
his  innumerable  sins  stare  him  in  the  face ;  when  he  was  committing  these 
sins  he  thought  little  of  them,  but  now  they  are  like  swords  which  pierce 
the  soul  with  terror.  The  dying  sinner  remembers  the  graces  resisted 
and  abused,  the  sacraments  neglected,  or,  what  is  worse,  received  sacri- 
legiously ;  his  bad  deeds  outweigh  his  few  good  ones  ;  his  heart  trembles 
within  him,  and  he  exclaims :  "  The  sorrows  of  death  have  compassed  me, 
and  the  perils  of  hell  have  found  me ! "  (Ps.  xciv.  3).  As  fishes  are 
allured  by  the  bait,  so  are  sinners  captured  by  Satan.  **  As  fishes  are  taken 
by  the  hook,  and  as  birds  are  caught  with  the  snare,  so  men  are  taken  in 
the  evil  time!  "  (Eccl.  ix.  12).  That  is,  they  die  whilst  they  are  actually 
offending  God.  Nor  is  there  much  comfort  for  the  sinner  who,  during 
life,  puts  off  his  conversion  from  day  to  day,  and  in  the  end  spends  only 
his  few  last  days  in  preparing  himself  for  death.  St.  Liguori  says: 
"  And  I  assert,  that  all  who  ordinarily  neglect  to  unburthen  their  con- 
science, die  without  preparation,  even  though  they  should  have  seven  or 
eight  days  to  prepare  for  2l  good  death  ;  for  it  is  very  difficult  during  these 
days  of  confusion  and  terror  to  settle  accounts  with  God  and  to  return  to 
Him  with  sincerity.  But  I  repeat,  that  death  may  come  upon  you  in 
such  a  manner,  that  you  shall  not  have  time  even  to  receive  the  sacra- 


540  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ments."     "A   hard   heart,"  says    Ecclus.  (iii.  27),  "shall  fare  evil  at  the 
last,  and  he  that  loveth  the  danger  shall  perish  in  it ! " 

The  just  man,  on  the  other  hand,  feels  no  terror  at  the  approach  of 
death :  for  him  death  has  no  sting,  nor  torment.  "  The  souls  of  the 
just,"  says  the  Scripture,  "  are  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  the  torments  of 
death  shall  not  touch  them  ! "  (Wisd.  iii.  i).  The  just  man  looks  upon 
death  as  a  golden  gate  leading  from  this  vale  of  misery  into  the  land  of 
eternal  happiness.  "  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the"  Lord  is  the  death  of  His 
saints  "  (Ps.  cxv.  15).  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.  From 
henceforth  now,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labors ! " 
(Apoc.  xiv.  13).  Death  delivers  the  just  man  from  his  sufferings  in  this 
life,  from  temptations  and  actual  sins,  and  from  the  danger  of  falling 
into  hell ;  death  is,  therefore,  welcomed  by  the  just  man. 

.  The  sincere  penitent  rejoices  at  the  approach  of  death  ;  for  though  he 
may  have  committed  many  and  grievous  sins  during  his  life,  yet  he  knows 
that  he  has  by  God's  mercy  received  pardon  for  them  in  the  tribunal  of 
penance.  He  knows  that  though  his  sins  were  as  red  as  scarlet  they  are 
at  that  tribunal  made  whiter  than  snow  !  And,  moreover,  the  true  peni- 
tent has  performed  good  works,  and  he  knows  that  these  good  works 
follow  him.  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.  From  hence- 
forth now,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labors :  for 
their  works  follow  them!"  (Apoc.  xiv.  13).  The  just  man  is  filled  with 
sweet  comfort  when  the  Viaticum  is  brought  to  him  at  the  hour  of 
death,  and  he  rejoices  at  the  thought  of  soon  tasting  of  the  ineffable 
pleasure  of  seeing  the  entrancing  beauty  of  the  face  of  God  ! 

Let  us,  then,  live  well  in  order  that  we  may  die  well,  and  escape  the 
dangers  which  beset  the  death  of  the  sinner.  "  Oh,  my  dearly  beloved, 
from  how  great  a  danger  mayest  thou  deliver  thyself,  from  how  great 
a  fear  mayest  thou  be  freed,  if  thou  wilt  but  now  be  always  fearful  and 
looking  for  death !  Strive  now  so  to  live,  that  in  the  hour  of  thy  death 
thou  mayest  rather  rejoice  than  fear !  Learn  now  to  die  to  the  world, 
that  then  thou  mayest  begin  to  live  with  Christ !  Learn  now  to  despise 
all  things,  that  then  thou  mayest  freely  go  to  Christ !  Chastise  thy 
body  now  by  penance,  that  thou  mayest  then  have  an  assured  confi- 
dence ! "     ("  Imit.  of  Christ,"  B.  I.,  ch.  xxiii.) 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT. 

"  Let  us,  therefore,  cast  off  the  works  of  darkness  and  put  on  the  armor  of  light ! " 

— Rom.  xiii.  12. 

HE  Church,  my  brethren,  commences  her  ecclesiastical  year  on 
this  day,  the  First  Sunday  of  Advent :  and  her  first  concern  is 
to  prepare  with  due  care  for  the  great  approaching  festival  of 
Christmas.  She  sets  apart  a  certain  time  for  this  purpose,  and 
calls  it  Advent,  or  the  coming  of  the  Lord.  She  earnestly  desires  to 
have  all  her  children  prepare  themselves  well  during  this  time,  so  that 
Christ  Jesus  may  be  spiritually  born  in  their  souls  at  Christmas,  and  that 
they  may  receive  that  "  peace  "  which  is  promised  to  "  men  of  good  will." 
"  Prepare,"  she  says  to  her  children,  "  prepare  ye  the  ways  of  the  Lord^ 
make  straight  His  paths  ! "  (Luke  iii.  4).     "  Know  ye  that  it  is  now  the 

hour  to  arise  from  the  sleep  of  sin Let  us  walk  honestly  as  in  the 

day,  not  in  rioting  and  drunkenness,  not  in  chambering  and  impurities, 
not  in  contention  and  envy,  but  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ"  (Rom. 
xiii.  11).  "Let  him  that  is  just  become  more  and  more  just,  and  him 
that  is  holy  become  more  and  more  holy."  "Cast  off  the  works  of  dark- 
ness, and  put  on  the  armor  of  light "  (Rom,  xiii.  12). 

And,  my  brethren,  lest  her  gentle  admonitions  should  prove  insuffi- 
cient to  move  obstinate  sinners  to  give  up  their  evil  ways,  and  to  prepare 
as  they  ought  by  a  true  conversion,  she  thoughtfully  and  deliberately  lays 
before  them  to-day  the  dreadful  picture  of  the  General  Judgment.  By 
this  she  wishes  to  inspire  them  with  a  salutary  fear  unto  the  desired  wis- 
dom ;  for  "  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom." 

And,  indeed,  the  General  Judgment  is  sufficient  to  strike  fear  and 
terror  into  every  one  who  believes  that  he  shall  have  to  stand  before  the 
Judgment-seat  of  God  on  that  day,  and  there  receive,  in  the  presence  of 
the  whole  human  race,  his  eternal  sentence  of  either  "  heaven,"  or  "  hell." 
The  thought  of  it  is  sufficient  to  fill  the  most  hardened  sinners  with 
withering  fear.  **  And  there  shall  be  signs  in  the  sun,  and  in  the  moon^ 
and  in  the  stars ;  and  upon  earth  distress  of  nations,  by  reason  of  the 
confusion  of  the  roaring  of  the  sea  and  of  the  waves.  Men  withering 
away  from  fear,  and  expectation  of  what  shall  come  upon  the  whole 
world  "  (Luke  xxi.  25,  26). 

(541) 


542  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

But,  my  brethren,  if  these  signs  which  shall  precede  the  General 
Judgment  be  so  alarming  as  to  cause  men  "  to  wither  away  for  fear," 
what  must  the  effect  caused  by  the  Judgment  itself  be?  "Oh,  terrible 
hour ! "  exclaims  St.  Ephraim ;  "  who  shall  relate,  or  who  shall  bear  to  » 
hear  this  last  and  fearful  rehearsal  ?  "  "  What  shall  I  do,"  says  holy  Job, 
"  when  God  shall  rise  to  judge,  and  when  He  shall  ask  and  examine,  what 
shall  I  answer  Him  ?....!  know  that  if  man  will  contend  with  God, 
he  cannot  answer  Him  one  good  thought,  or  word,  or  deed,  for  a  thousand 
(bad  ones)  "  (Job  ix.). 

On  the  Day  of  Judgment  the  last  trumpet  shall  sound:  ^^ Arise  ye, 
dead,  and  come  to  Judgment ! "  Each  note  shall  sound  louder  than 
thunder.  It  shall  reverberate  through  all  the  graves  of  the  dead.  And 
in  a  moment,  *'  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye"  the  land  and  sea  shall  yield  up 
the  corpses  which  they  contain,  and  heaven,  and  purgatory,  and  hell  will 
give  up  the  souls  which  they  possess,  in  order  to  be  reunited  respectively 
to  the  same  bodies  which  they  had  in  this  life.  Oh !  joyful  reunion  of 
the  souls  and  bodies  of  the  just.  But,  alas !  sad  reunion  of  the  repro- 
bate souls  with  the  hideous  bodies  which  during  life  had  been  their  com- 
panions in  guilt !  And  all  mankind  shall  stand  together  in  the  Valley  of 
Josaphat  to  be  judged! 

*'  And,  behold,  the  sign  of  the  Cross  shall  appear,  and  the  Son  of  Man 
shall  be  seen  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  with  great  power  and 
majesty,  and  all  the  angels  with  Him."  His  Five  Wounds,  suffered  for 
the  Redemption  of  the  human  race,  shall  shine  like  five  brilliant  suns, 
and  shall  strike  the  reprobate  with  terror  and  dismay,  but  the  just  they 
shall  sweetly  comfort  and  gladden.  The  just  shall  be  caught  up  in  ecstasy, 
as  it  were,  in  the  air  to  meet  the  Judge,  but  the  wicked  who  crucified  the 
Son  of  Man  by  their  sins,  and  did  not  repent,  "  shall  wither  away  for 
fear."  They  shall  call  upon  the  mountains  to  fall  upon  them,  and  the 
rocks  to  hide  them  from  the  face  of  the  angry  Judge. 

"  The  Judgment  sat,  and  the  books  were  opened !  "  (Dan.  vii.  lo). 
The  guilty  are  on  their  trial ;  they  have  no  advocate  to  plead  in  their 
behalf.  The  Judge  is  inexorable :  He  will  make  no  distinction  of  per- 
sons ;  He  will  judge  with  the  strictest  justice ;  the  hidden  things  of  dark- 
ness shall  be  brought  to  light.  Jerusalem  shall  be  searched  with  lamps, 
the  abominations  which  are  now  hidden  shall  then  be  exposed  to  the 
view  of  the  whole  human  race ;  parents  shall  look  on,  and  friends  and 
enemies.  "  The  unfortunate  sinner  shall  see,"  as  St.  Augustine  says,  "  all 
his  sins  ranged  before  him  in  exact  order,  day,  and  date,  and  circumstances 
will  be  given  !  " 

All  our  thoughts,  and  words,  and  deeds,  and  sinful  desires  shall  un- 
failingly start  up  for  judgment;   sins  of  hatred,   and   detraction,   and 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  543 

revenge,  and  jealousy;  sins  of  drunkenness  and  impurity,  sins  of  injus- 
tice and  injury  to  our  neighbor,  sins  of  scandal  and  bad  example,  and 
wilful  abuse  of  graces ;  all  these  sins,  and  all  others  shall  be  publicly  ex- 
posed, and  scrutinized,  and  judged.  Who  is  there,  my  brethren,  with 
life  so  innocent,  or  soul  so  pure,  as  to  escape  on  that  searching  day?  "If 
the  just  man,"  says  St.  Peter,  "  shall  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the 
ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  ?  "  (i  Peter  iv.  i8). 

We  shall  be  weighed  to  a  nicety  in  the  scales  of  the  sanctuary,  and 
our  good  works  shall  be  put  into  one  scale  and  our  evil  deeds  into  the 
other.  The  mere  name  of  being  "  Christian,"  or  "  Catholic,"  will  be  of 
no  avail  unless  you  have  good  works  to  correspond.  Nay,  it  will  only 
add  to  the  condemnation :  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  that  had  the  fire  and 
brimstone  rained  upon  them  for  their  sins,  shall  be  treated  more  favor- 
ably; Tyre  and  Sidon  will  find  it  more  tolerable  than  the  negligent 
Catholic. 

Christ  will  say  to  the  wicked :  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  accursed,  into 
everlasting  fire,  which  was  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels !  "  (Matt, 
xxi.  41).  Each  word  will  fall  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  unfortunate 
reprobate,  and  he  shall  sink  under  it  down  into  the  gloomy  abyss  of  un- 
quenchable fire !  Nor  shall  the  echo  of  his  sentence  soon  die  away,  but 
it  shall  repeat  itself,  and  multiply  itself  forever  in  his  ears. 

The  wicked  shall  go  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  just  into 
life  everlasting.  To  the  just  the  Judge  will  say :  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of 
my  Father,  possess  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you !  "  (Matt.  xxv.  34). 
Oh,  sweet  words,  full  of  music  and  joy  in  the  ears  of  the  just !  Oh, 
happy  the  place  of  the  just  beside  the  throne  of  God  in  heaven !  Make 
for  that  place,  my  brethren ;  lead  a  good  life,  do  penance  for  any  sin 
which  you  may  have  unfortunately  committed,  get  it  forgiven  as  soon  as 
possible  at  the  tribunal  of  confession,  live  always  in  a  state  of  grace,  in 
friendship  with  God,  and  in  peace  with  your  neighbor. 

Thus,  my  brethren,  you  will  receive  on  earth  that  peace  which  is 
promised  to  men  of  good  will,  and  you  will  pass  through  the  Valley  of 
Josaphat  with  good  heart  and  glad,  and  you  will  enter  with  glorious  and 
immortal  bodies  into  Life  Everlasting,  there  to  be  encircled  forever  with 
glories  and  with  joys  far  beyond  what  the  mind  can  conceive,  or  the 
tongue  can  tell.  "  Cast  off,  therefore,  the  works  of  darkness  and  put  ye 
on  the  armor  of  light !  "  (Rom.  xiii.  12).     Amen. 


ON  PURGATORY. 

'  It  is  therefore  a  holy  and  a  wholesome  thought  to  pray  for  the  dead  that  they  may 
be  loosed  from  sins." — 2  Mach.  xii.  46. 

IINCE  the  coming  of  Christ  our  Lord  there  are  four  difTerent 
places  assigned  for  the  souls  of  the  dead :  Heaven  for  all  those 
who  die  in  perfect  friendship  with  God,  without  sin  or  stain 
upon  their  souls  ;  hell  for  those  who  die  in  mortal  sin ;  Limbo 
for  infant  children  who  die  without  Baptism  ;  and  Purgatory  for  all  those 
who  die  in  venial  sin,  or  who  die  before  they  have  fully  atoned  for  the 
temporal  punishment  due  to  their  mortal  sin,  the  guilt  and  eternal  pun- 
ishment of  which  have  been  remitted  in  this  life  by  penance. 

Now,  my  brethren,  though  many  die,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  in  a  state  of 
grace,  yet  all  do  not  die  so  stainless  as  not  to  require  to  be  cleansed  in 
the  fires  of  Purgatory.  Indeed,  it  is  the  common  opinion  of  theologians 
that  the  great  bulk  of  people  who  die  in  a  state  of  grace  shall  have  at 
least  some  little  speck  or  stain  on  their  souls  when  they  die,  and  so,  all 
such,  though  in  a  state  of  grace,  cannot  immediately  pass  into  heaven, 
where  "  nothing  defiled  shall  enter."  They  have  first  to  pass  through 
the  fires  of  Purgatory  until  they  are  cleansed  and  purified  for  heaven. 

The  Catholic  Church  has  from  the  very  beginning  taught  the  doctrine 
of  Purgatory  to  her  children.  She  has  constantly  and  clearly  explained 
to  them  that  the  suffering  souls  in  Purgatory  are  relieved  by  the  Masses, 
prayers,  alms,  fasts,  communions,  and  other  suffrages  which  the  faithful 
on  earth  offer  up  for  them  to  God. 

"  The  Catholic  Church,"  says  the  Council  of  Trent,  "  instructed  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  has,  from  the  Sacred  Writings,  and  the  ancient  Tradition  of 
the  Fathers,  taught  in  Sacred  Councils,  and  very  recently  in  this 
OEcumenical  Synod,  that  there  is  a  Purgatory,  and  that  the  souls  therein 
detained  are  helped  by  the  suffrages  of  the  faithful,  but  principally  by  the 
acceptable  sacrifice  of  the  altar  "  (Sess.  25). 

And,  again  :  "  If  any  one  says  that  after  justification  and  the  remission 
of  the  eternal  suffering  due  to  mortal  sin,  there  remains  no  temporal  pain 
to  suffer  either  in  tjiis  world,  or  in  Purgatory,  before  entering  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  let  him  be  anathema."  St.  Chrysostom  says  :  "  The  dead 
may  be-  helped  by  prayers,  and  alms,  and  offerings,  because  they  were  not 
(544) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  545 

instituted  in  vain,  let  us  therefore  help  them."  St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem 
says :  "  We  pray  for  all  those  amongst  us,  thinking  it  to  be  the  greatest 
help  to  their  souls  to  have  the  holy  and  dread  sacrifice  of  the  altar  offered 
in  supplication  for  them."  And  St.  Augustine,  who  always  prayed  for 
his  own  deceased  mother  at  the  altar,  says :  "  By  the  prayer  of  the  holy- 
Church  and  the  wholesome  sacrifice  and  aims,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but 
that  the  dead  are  assisted,  so  that  God  deals  more  mercifully  with  them 
than  their  sins  deserved  ;  for  we  have  learned  from  our  Fathers  that  it  had 
been  the  universal  practice  of  the  Church  to  pray  and  offer  sacrifice  for 
those  who  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 
These  are  not,  however,"  he  carefully  adds,  "beneficial  to  all  the  dead,  but 
only  to  those  that  lived  so  before  their  death,  that  they  might  be  a  help 
to  them  after  it." 

The  souls  in  Purgatory  suffer  the  most  intense  pain.  They  realize  the 
truth  of  the  words  of  Scripture :  "  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  living  God  !  "  "  They  shall  be  saved,  yet  so  as  by  fire  !  " 
St.  Thomas  and  many  other  saints  hold  that  this  fire  of  Purgatory  is  the 
same  as  the  fire  of  hell,  except  that  the  fire  of  hell  is  eternal  in  its  dura- 
tion and  the  fire  of  Purgatory  is  not.  This  fire  would  melt  a  mountain 
of  bronze  in  an  instant :  it  is  an  instrument  of  God's  wrath ;  it  sets  the 
entire  soul  in  agonizing  torments.  But  the  soul  in  Purgatory  suffers  from 
more  than  fire :  it  suffers  by  the  privation  of  the  Beatific  Vision ;  it 
suffers  at  the  thought  of  having  those  things  which  in  life  it  considered 
to  be  so  slight  visited  with  such  fearful  punishments ;  it  suffers  at  the 
thought  of  having  during  life  neglected  to  atone  for  those  sins  by  little 
meritorious  actions  and  by  indulgences;  it  suffers  at  the  monstrous  in- 
gratitude of  children  and  relatives  and  friends  who  offer  no  suffrage  nor 
alms  nor  sacrifice  to  free  the  soul  from  its  pain ;  finally,  it  suffers  through 
regret  at  not  having  itself  during  life  made  sure  provision  for  such 
suffrages.  And  so,  in  vain,  it  cries  out  with  piteous  cries :  "  Have  pity 
on  me,  have  pity  on  me,  at  least  you,  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  hath  touched  me !  "  It  is  certain  that  the  pains  of  Purgatory  may 
last  for  many  years,  and  even  to  the  day  of  judgment. 

Now,  my  brethren,  who  are  they  who  suffer  thus  in  the  fires  of  Purga- 
tory ?  Who  are  they  who  cry  out  to  us :  "  Have  pity  on  me,  have  pity 
on  me  !  "  They  are  the  souls  of  our  brethren  in  the  faith.  Perhaps  they 
are  the  souls  of  our  parents,  of  our  friends,  and  benefactors ;  or,  it  may 
be,  the  souls  of  those  whom  we  ourselves  have  caused  to  commit  sin. 
How  can  we  see  these  dear  souls  in  this  pain  without  extending  a  hand 
to  help  them  ? 

We  can  easily  help  them,  and  even  rescue  them  from  their  pains ;  and 
this  we  can  do  by  applying  to  them  the  benefit  of  our  prayers,  and  fasts. 


546  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

and  alms-deeds,  and  Holy  Communions,  and  indulgences,  and  Masses, 
The  power  or  fruit  of  the  Mass  is  infinite,  and  it  has  this  power  by  its 
own  intrinsic  nature,  apart  from  him  who  says  it  or  gets  it  said. 

I  am  not  at  liberty  to  abstain,  through  any  mistaken  delicacy,  from 
preaching  the  salutary  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  efficacy  of  Masses  offered 
up  for  the  souls  suffering  in  Purgatory.  In  the  Mass  Christ  offers  Him- 
self in  sacrifice  to  His  Eternal  Father,  and  through  the  merits  of  this 
sacrifice  He  asks,  and  not  without  effect,  for  the  deliverance  of  the  souls 
in  Purgatory !  Hence,  St.  Augustine  praised  his  deceased  mother,  not 
because  she  wished  to  have  her  body  sumptuously  buried,  or  embalmed, 
but  because  she  desired  that  her  memory  might  be  made  at  God's  altar. 
We  read  in  history  that  there  were  seventeen  hundred  Masses  offered  up 
for  Margaret,  the  wife  of  King  Philip  HI.  of  Spain,  on  the  day  of  her 
funeral ;  and  that  this  intelligent  and  pious  queen  gave  order  in  her  will 
that  one  thousand  Masses  be  said  for  her  soul,  and  the  king  ordered 
twenty  thousand  more  to  be  offered  up  for  her. 

Isabel,  the  wife  of  the  Archduke  Albertus,  got  forty  thousand  Masses 
said  for  her  husband  at  his  death,  and  for  the  same  purpose  heard  ten 
Masses  every  day  for  thirty  days.  "  Stir  yourselves  up,  then,"  says  St. 
Bernard,  "  to  the  help  of  the  souls  in  Purgatory,  intercede  for  them  by  your 
sighs,  multiply  for  them  your  prayers,  offer  for  them  the  august  sacrifice 
of  the  holy  altar." 

Thus,  my  brethren,  we  are,  as  it  were,  the  sovereigns  of  the  immense 
and  suffering  kingdom  of  Purgatory;  we  hold  in  our  hands  the  keys  of 
its  deep  dungeon  of  fire  ! 

We  can  very  much  assist  the  souls  in  Purgatory  by  offering  up  for 
them  what  is  called  "  The  Heroic  Act  of  Charity."  This  consists  in 
offering  in  behalf  of  the  souls  in  Purgatory  the  personal  fruits  of  all 
works  of  satisfaction  performed  by  any  one  of  the  faithful  during  his 
life,  as  well  as  all  the  suffrages  which  shall  be  offered  for  him  after  his 
death.  "  This  Heroic  Act,"  says  a  great  authority  (Father  Mumford), 
"  is  so  highly  meritorious  of  grace  and  glory,  that  the  loss  of  the  fruit  of 
our  satisfactions  is  nothing  to  be  valued  in  regard  of  the  gain  which  we 
purchase." 

By  delivering  the  souls  in  Purgatory  we  greatly  benefit  our  own  souls. 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy  ! "  And  again  : 
"With  the  same  measure  that  we  mete  to  others  it  shall  be  measured 
to  us  again  ! "  The  assistance  which  we  give  these  suffering  souls  now 
will  be  an  effectual  means  to  move  God  to  stir  up  others  to  give  the 
same  assistance  to  us  in  case  we  be  condemned  to  the  same  place  here- 
after, and  on  the  contrary,  "  judgment  without  mercy  to  him  that  shows 
no  mercy ! " 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE. 


547 


The  souls  in  Purgatory  are  the  beloved  spouses  of  Christ,  united  to 
Him  by  grace,  and  therefore  any  relief  given  to  them  is  taken  by  God  as 
if  given  to  Himself.  God  says:  "As  long  as  you  did  it  to  the  least  of 
these,  you  also  did  it  to  me ! "  God  does  not  let  a  cup  of  cold  water, 
given  for  His  sake,  even  to  an  enemy  of  His,  go  without  its  reward. 

The  souls  delivered  from  Purgatory  by  your  prayers  and  suffrages  will 
be  powerful  advocates  for  you  in  heaven.  As  you  prayed  for  them,  so  will 
they  in  their  turn  pray  for  you.  And  you  shall  sweetly  experience  the 
fruits  of  your  charity  toward  the  souls  in  Purgatory ;  you  will  have  made 
ior  yourselves  true  friends  and  real  in  the  court  of  Heaven,  friends  who 
will  pray  for  your  salvation  and  rejoice  in  your  glory  and  in  your  com- 
panionship with  themselves  close  to  the  throne  of  the  Eternal,  where  all 
the  Elect  shall  forevermore  bask  in  the  lovely  sunshine  of  God's  presence ! 
Amen. 


ON  GRACE. 

'  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am." — i  CoR.  xv.  lo. 

|E  have  been  made,  my  brethren,  to  know,  and  love,  and  serve 
God  here  on  earth,  and  hereafter  to  be  happy  with  Him  for- 
ever in  heaven.  But  we  are  utterly  unable  by  our  own  natural 
powers  to  do  these  things,  or  to  attain  this  end.  It  is  by 
God's  grace  alone  we  can  expect  to  gain  eternal  life.  Without  God's 
help  or  grace  we  cannot  avoid  evil  or  do  the  least  good.  "  Without  me," 
says  Christ,  "you  can  do  nothing"  (John  xv.  5).  "  No  man  can  say  the 
Lord  Jesus,  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost  "  (i  Cor.  xii.  3).  "  No  man  can  come 
to  me,"  says  Christ,  **  except  the  Father,  who  hath  sent  me,  draw  him  " 
(John  vi.  44).  "We  can  neither  think  a  good  thought,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"  nor  speak  a  good  word  which  can  be  useful  towards  our  salvation, 
without  the  assistance  of  God  "  (2  Cor.  iii.  5).  And  again,  he  says  :  "  By 
the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am  "  (i  Cor.  xv.  10). 

By  grace  is  meant,  as  you  know,  a  "supernatural  gift  destinedby  God 
for  our  sanctification,  and  to  enable  us  to  merit  heaven."  There  are  two 
kinds  of  grace — actual  and  sanctifying.  Actual  grace  is  a  supernatural 
help  given  to  us  by  God  to  avoid  evil  and  to  do  good.  Actual  grace 
operates  in  the  soul  by  enlightening  it,  so  that  the  soul  can  see  what  is 
good  and  what  is  evil :  to  choose  what  is  good  and  reject  what  is  evil. 

Natural  actions,  no  matter  how  good  in  themselves,  can  have  no  merit 
before  God  unless  they  be  elevated  by  grace.  For  our  works  become 
meritorious  only  through  the  merits  of  Christ,  and  Christ's  merits  cannot 
be  applied  to  us  without  grace. 

God  gives  to  all  men,  even  to  the  most  hardened  and  blinded  sinners,  a 
sufficiency  of  grace  to  work  out  their  salvation.  The  words,  "  My  grace 
is  sufficient  for  thee,"  apply  to  all  men.  "  As  I  live,"  saith  the  Lord,  "  I 
desire  not  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  rather  that  the  wicked  be  con- 
verted from  his  evil  ways  and  live."  "  Destruction  is  thy  own,  O  Israel ; 
thy  help  is  only  in  me"  (Osee  xiii.  9).  "To  every  man  is  given  grace" 
(Eph.  iv.  7). 

But  all  men  have  not  the  same  amount  of  grace  g^ven  them :  some 
have  more,  some  have  less ;  yet  all  have  sufficient  grace.     Indeed,  he  who 
(548; 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  549 

has  least  has  more  than  enough  for  salvation  if  he  only  corresponds  with 
it.  God  requires  of  us  to  correspond  with  the  graces  which  He  gives  us, 
otherwise  we  shall  not  be  saved.  "  God,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  who 
made  us  without  our  concurrence,  will  not  save  us  without  our  concur- 
rence." 

God  expects  that  no  one  will  reject  His  graces;  and  woe  to  him  who 
does  reject  them.  "  Woe  to  thee  Corozain,  woe  to  thee  Bethsaida ;  for 
if  in  Tyre  and  Sidon  such  things  had  been  wrought,  long  since  they 
would  have  done  penance  in  sackcloth  and  ashes."  When  a  sinner 
repeatedly  rejects  the  grace  of  God,  then  God  becomes  provoked,  and 
withdraws  His  more  poiverful  graces  (though  He  does  not  withdraw  all 
His  graces),  and  the  sinner  becomes  hardened  and  blinded  even  as  a 
reprobate.  "  Knowest  thou  not  that  the  benignity  of  God  calleth  thee 
to  penance,  but  according  to  thy  hardness  and  impenitent  heart  thou 
treasurest  up  to  thyself  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  the  revela- 
tion of  the  just  judgment  of  God  "  (Rom.  ii.  4).  We  are  accountable  to 
God  not  only  for  all  the  graces  we  have  received  from  Him,  but  also  for 
all  the  other  graces  which  He  would  have  conferred  upon  us  had  we  not 
put  an  obstacle  to  them. 

We  may,  as  you  know,  put  an  obstacle  to  grace,  for  grace  does  not  in- 
terfere with  our  liberty.  It  does  not  take  away  our  free  will,  nor  does  it 
force  us  to  do  anything  contrary  to  our  will ;  but  it  enables  us  to  will  and 
to  do  that  which  we  could  neither  will  nor  do  without  grace.  Hence 
liberty,  or  free-will,  which  is  an  essential  part  of  our  nature,  is  in  no  way 
interfered  with  by  grace.  Our  experience,  indeed,  only  too  well  teaches 
us  how  often  we  have  resisted  the  motions  of  grace.  God  declares  that 
man  "  blessed,  that  could  have  transgressed,  and  hath  not  transgressed ; 
that  could  do  evil  things  and  hath  not  done  them  "  (Eccles.  i.  10).  Grace, 
therefore,  does  not  destroy  our  free  will,  but  it  strengthens,  and  rectifies, 
and  perfects  it. 

Sanctifying  grace  is  "  that  grace  which  sanctifies  the  soul  and  makes 
it  pleasing  to  God."  The  moment  we  receive  the  precious  gift  of  sancti- 
fying grace  we  pass  from  the  state  of  sin  to  the  state  of  grace.  "  The 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin  "  (i  John  i.  7). 
"  God  will  turn  again  and  have  mercy  on  us ;  He  will  put  away  our 
iniquities,  and  He  will  cast  all  our  sins  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea."  "  Re- 
pent ye,  therefore,  and  be  converted,  that  your  sins  may  be  blotted  out " 
(Acts  iii.  19).         ' 

Sanctifying  grace  gives  us  a  title  as  sons  and  heirs  to  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  makes  us  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  gives  a  merit  to  all  our 
good  works,  beautifies  the  soul,  and  clothes  it  with  the  habit  of  all  the 
Christian  virtues — with  faith,  hope,  and  charity.     St.  Paul  says  that  sane- 


560 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


tifying  grace  is  "  the  charity  of  God  poured  forth  in  our  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Ghost "  (Rom.  v.  5).  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  says :  "  The  gift  of  grace 
excels  every  other  gift  that  a  creature  can  receive,  since  grace  is  a  partic- 
ipation of  the  very  nature  of  God."  A  soul  in  a  state  of  grace  enjoys  a 
perpetual  feast,  for  it  enjoys  "  the  peace  of  God  which  surpasseth  all  un- 
derstanding." By  grace  Christ  communicates  to  us  the  same  splendor 
which  He  received  from  God  :  "  The  glory  which  Thou  hast  given  me," 
says  Christ,  "  I  have  given  to  them  "  (John  xvii.  22).  St.  Bridget  said 
that  no  one  could  behold  the  beauty  of  a  soul  in  a  state  of  grace  without 
dying  of  joy.  The  full  beauty  of  the  Blessed  Trinity  dwells  in  a  soul  in 
the  state  of  grace.  "If  any  man  love  me,  my  Father  will  love  him,  and 
we  will  come  to  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him  "  (John  xiv.  23). 

You  see  what  an  immense  treasure  is  the  grace  of  God.  Kingdoms 
and  thrones  are  not  to  be  compared  with  it ;  neither  are  riches,  nor 
honors,  nor  gold,  nor  silver,  nor  health,  nor  beauty.  You  see  what  a 
powerful  and  necessary  instrument  of  our  salvation  it  is;  for  it  is  by  grace 
we  are  delivered  from  our  past  sins,  and  preserved  from  sins  in  the  time 
to  come.  Let  us,  then,  frequently  pray  to  God,  and  always  through  the 
intercession  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  for  an  increase  of  sanctifying  grace. 
Prayer  is  the  key  of  the  treasury  of  God's  grace.  "  Ask,  and  ye  shall  re- 
ceive" (John  xvi.  24).  Have  also  frequent  ■  recourse  to  the  sacraments, 
for  they  are  the  divinely  instituted  channels  through  which  God  has  or- 
dained that  His  graces  should  flow  into  our  souls.  It  was  by  this  means 
that  the  saints  obtained  not  only  graces  for  themselves,  but  also  the  grace 
of  conversion  for  their  neighbors.  It  is  by  this  means  we  can  keep 
ourselves  from  falling  into  pride,  and  all  other  sins  to  which  man  is  sub- 
ject. It  is  by  prayer  and  the  sacraments  that  we  can  obtain  that  clear 
light  of  grace  by  which  to  see  ourselves  always  as  we  ought,  so  that  we 
may  say  as  St.  Paul  said :  "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am." 


ON    HUMILITY. 

"  And  they  said  to  him :  Who  art  thou  ?  "—John  i.  19. 

HIS  Gospel  represents  to  us  John  the  Baptist  baptizing  on  the 
borders  of  the  river  Jordan,  and  edifying  all  Judea  by  the  splen- 
dor of  his  doctrine,  the  sanctity  of  his  life,  and  the  lustre  of 
his  virtues.  The  Jews  were  so  struck  by  his  austere  life  that 
they  sent  to  inquire  whether  he  was  the  promised  Messias ;  those  sent 
from  the  Sanhedrim  asked  him  the  question :  "  W/io  art  thou  ?  " 

This  is  the  question,  my  brethren,  which  we  should  frequently  put  to 
ourselves;  for  the  true  answer  to  it  will  fill  us  with  a  sense  of  real  humil- 
ity, and  it  is  therefore  necessary  for  all  men.  This  knowledge  of  one's 
self  is  the  most  sublime  and  useful  of  all  the  sciences ;  it  is  far  beyond 
the  sciences  which  treat  of  the  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  or  the 
course  of  the  planets. 

The  pagans  regarded  the  knowledge  of  one's  self  as  an  elementary 
lesson  in  philosophy :  the  words,  "  KNOW  THYSELF,"  were  inscribed  in 
golden  letters  over  the  gate  of  the  temple  of  Apollo.  Without  a  proper 
knowledge  of  ourselves  we  are  apt  to  fall  into  self-sufficiency  and  empty 
pride ;  it  is  through  want  of  this  knowledge  that  many  think  themselves 
above  their  equals,  and  vainly  desire  that  others  should  think  them  so 
too.  Who  can  enumerate  the  evils  that  are  caused  every  day  through 
want  of  this  knowledge?  How  many  children  pretend  to  be  wiser 
than  their  parents !  How  many  parents,  too,  and  others  in  authority, 
abuse  their  authority  and  indulge  in  tyranny  or  superciliousness !  How 
many  quarrels,  contentions,  and  jealousies  spring  from  the  same  source  \ 
how  much  pride  in  all  its  forms  and  degrees!  It  is  a  salutary  question, 
then,  to  put  betimes  to  ourselves :  "  Who  art  thou  f"    . 

St.  John  the  Baptist  manifested  a  true  knowledge  of  himself  when  he 
was  asked  this  question  :  "  Who  art  thou  ?  "  He  might  have  said  many 
things  in  praise  of  himself ;  he  had  been  born  in  a  state  of  grace,  he  had 
been  selected  to  be  the  Precursor  of  the  Lord,  he  had  it  even  said  of  him 
by  Christ  Himself  that  "  among  the  born  of  women  there  has  not  arisen 
a  greater  than  John  the  Baptist  ";  yet,  he  said  that  he  was  "  unworthy  to 
loose  the  latchet  of  our  Saviour's  shoes,"  that  he  was  but  the  "  voice  of 

(551) 


552  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

one  crying  in  the  wilderness,"  that  he  was  a  mere  "  voice  "  and  nothing 
more.  Behold,  my  brethren,  the  teacher  of  humility  answering  the  ques- 
tion put  to  him  :  "  Who  art  thou  ?  "  Behold  the  example  which  the  Gos- 
pel deliberately  places  before  us  to-day  for  our  imitation ! 

But  let  us  form  a  correct  knowledge  of  ourselves.  Whatever  virtues, 
and  good  qualities,  and  properties  we  possess  come  to  us  from  God,  they 
are  God's  gifts.  And  "  every  best  gift,"  says  St.  James  (i.  17.),  "  and  every 
perfect  gift  is  from  above,  coming  down  from  the  Father  of  lights  !  "  You 
only  hold  them  in  trust ;  they  are  talents  for  which  you  shall  have  to 
render  an  account,  and  much  shall  be  required  of  those  to  whom  much 
has  been  given  :  "  If  you  have  received,  why  do  you  glory  as  if  you  had 
not  received  ?  "  (i  Cor.  iv.  7).     "  Who,  then,  art  thou  ?  " 

Again,  consider  the  weakness  and  imperfections  of  our  human  nature : 
our  bodies  are  subject  to  sickness,  disease,  death,  and  corruption ;  this  is 
the  lot  of  all  men,  and  in  this,  man  differs  but  little  from  the  irrational 
animals  that  perish.  Who,  then,  can  pride  out  of  his  strength  or  his 
beauty?  What  has  man  to  glory  in  but  his  infirmities?  "What  can 
dust  and  ashes  be  proud  of?"  (Eccl.  x.  9).  "  Whoever,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"thinks  himself  something,  whereas  he  is  nothing,  deceives  himself" 
(Gal.  vi.  3). 

Moreover,  there  was  a  time,  and  that  not  so  long  ago,  when  you  had 
no  existence  at  all.  In  that  state  of  non-existence  you  might  have  re- 
mained yet,  and  for  all  eternity,  had  not  God  in  His  infinite  goodness 
called  you  into  existence,  and  gratuitously  given  you  your  life  and  all  that 
you  have.  The  length  of  your  life  upon  earth,  too,  is  uncertain  ;  you 
cannot  promise  yourself  a  day,  nor  even  an  hour.  Each  moment  has  to 
be  specially  granted  to  you  by  God,  or  else  you  would  instantly  collapse 
into  nothing  :  "  Who,  then,  art  thou  ?  "  Such,  my  brethren,  is  what  you 
are  as  to  your  body ;  now  let  us  consider  what  you  are  as  to  your  soul. 

Your  soul,  though  it  raises  you  above  all  the  other  visible  works  of 
creation,  is,  on  account  of  the  sin  of  our  first  parents,  more  prone  to  vice 
than  to  virtue,  more  prone  to  error  than  to  truth,  more  apt  to  fall  into  sin 
than  to  atone  for  it  when  committed.  It  is  slow  to  do  good  and  disin- 
clined to  co-operate  with  the  grace  of  God.  It  is  not  fully  conscious  to 
itself  of  being  pleasing  to  God ;  for  "  no  man  knoweth  whether  he  be 
worthy  of  love  or  hatred  "  (Eccl.  ix.  i).  Let  every  man,  then,  seriously 
ask  himself  the  question  :  "  Who  art  thou  ?  " 

What,  then,  has  man  to  be  proud  of  ?  Verily,  my  brethren,  I  know  not ; 
for  there  is  nothing  that  man  can  call  his  own^  excepting  only  his  sins. 

And  perhaps  we,  my  brethren,  have  committed  many  sins,  and  even 
mortal  sins  ;  and  if  so,  have  we  not  deserved  the  thunderbolts  of  God's 
anger,  have  we  not  deserved  the  punishment  of  hell-fire,  have  we  not  de- 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE.  653 

served  to  be  trampled  upon  by  all  of  God's  creatures  ?  What  wonder  if 
all  God's  creatures  rose  up  against  us,  and  struck  us  down  for  having  by 
our  sins  outraged  the  majesty  of  their  Great  Creator !  Let  the  sinner, 
then,  frequently,  in  presence  of  God,  and  of  God's  creatures,  ask  himself 
the  question  :  "  Who  art  thou  ?  " 

But  it  may  be  said  that  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  washes  away  all 
sin,  and  therefore  for  our  sins  there  is  no  need  to  be  humble.  Yes,  surely, 
the  Sacrament  of  Penance  does  wash  away  all  sin,  but  it  does  so  only  when 
the  sinner  has  genuine  humility.  "God  resists  the  proud,  and  gives  His 
grace  only  to  the  humble  "  (James  iv.  6).  God  forgives  those  only  who 
ask  pardon  with  the  proper  dispositions.  Are  you  sure  that  you  have 
had  these  proper  and  necessary  dispositions,  and  that  your  sins  are  there- 
fore fully  pardoned  ?  Remember,  God  says :  "  No  man  knows  whether 
he  be  worthy  of  love  or  hatred  !  "  (Eccl.  ix.  i). 

And  suppose  you  did  know  that  your  sins  were  pardoned  and  that 
you  were  in  a  state  of  grace  at  present,  who  can  tell  how  long  you  will 
continue  so  ?  Samson  fell,  and  Solomon  fell,  and  David  fell,  and  even 
Peter  the  Apostle,  who  was  considered  to  be  firm  as  a  rock,  fell  into  sin. 
"  There  can  be  no  security  here  upon  earth,"  says  St.  Bernard,  "  after  the 
first  angel  has  been  lost  in  heaven,  the  first  man  lost  in  Paradise,  and 
Judas  the  Apostle  lost  in  the  school  of  Jesus  Christ."  It  is  possible  that 
he  who  is  in  sin  to-day  may  humble  himself  and  go  to  Confession  to- 
morrow ;  and  you  who  are  in  a  state  of  grace  to-day  may  fall  to-morrow, 
and  through  pride  never  rise  any  more.  God  forbid  such  a  case,  but  it  is 
possible  unless  you  have  humility.  "  Let  him  that  standeth  take  heed 
lest  he  fall !  "  Day  by  day  we  march  toward  the  grave  and  the  judgment- 
seat,  and  we  know  not  what  will  be  our  lot  for  all  eternity  in  the  other 
world  !  It  is  therefore  wise  to  put  to  ourselves  betimes  the  thoughtful 
question  :  "  Who  art  thou  ?  " 

These  considerations,  my  brethren,  lead  us  to  a  true  knowledge  of  our- 
selves ;  they  help  us  to  see  our  unworthiness,  our  nothingness,  and  sinful- 
ness ;  they  show  us  what  a  right  we  have  to  be  humble. 

In  what,  then,  does  humility  briefly  consist?  It  consists  in  a  true 
knowledge  by  which  we  consider  ourselves  really  contemptible  in  our  own 
eyes.  Humility  is  indispensably  necessary  for  salvation  ;  without  humility 
it  is  utterly  impossible  for  us  to  please  God  ;  for,  "  God  resists  the  proud, 
and  giveth  His  grace  only  to  the  humble."  We  cannot  expect  to  be  among 
the  number  of  the  elect,  unless  we  conform  to  the  image  of  Him  who  is 
"  meek  and  humble  of  heart."  "  Those,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  whom  God 
^predestinated'  to  be  among  the  number  of  the  elect  must  be  made  con- 
formable to  the  image  of  His  Son  "  (Rom.  viii.  29),  that  is,  they  must  be 
"  humble  of  heart." 


554  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Humility  is  required  rn  all  persons,  no  matter  what  state  or  condition- 
of  life  they  may  be  in.  It  is  the  entrance  to  religion,  it  is  the  root  and 
foundation  of  all  virtues.  As  you  cannot  have  a  house  without  a  founda- 
tion, so  neither  can  you  have  a  virtue  without  humility.  St.  Augustine 
says:  "  Humility  is  not  only  the  foundation,  but  it  is  the  perfection  of 
virtue."  Humility  is  a  grand  and  stately  edifice  which  rises  high  in  pro- 
portion as  the  foundation  is  laid  low,  so  that  all  the  virtues  increase  or 
decrease  just  in  proportion  to  one's  humility.  The  Holy  Fathers  com- 
pare humility  to  those  fruitful  valleys  which  are  irrigated  by  the  streams, 
which  ever  flow  through  them,  whilst  the  proud  hills  are  dried  up  by  the 
burning  sun,  and  the  parching  winds,  and  so  produce  neither  fruit  nor 
verdure. 

St.  Augustine  proposes  and  answers  the  following  questions :  "  What 
is  the  first  thing  in  all  religion  ? — Humility.  What  is  the  second  ? — 
Humility.  What  is  the  third  ? — Humility."  Humility  is  then  the  virtue 
of  virtues. 

Humility  was  the  favorite  virtue  of  all  the  saints.  The  more  that 
God  rewarded  their  merit  with  His  grace  the  more  they  sincerely  humbled 
themselves  in  His  sight,  and  the  more  they  humbled  themselves  the  more 
again  they  were  exalted,  for  God  exalts  the  humble.  John  the  Baptist 
humbled  himself,  and  for  this  Christ  Himself  declared  that  ''  among  the 
born  of  women  there  has  not  arisen  a  greater  than  John  the  Baptist." 
The  Blessed  Virgin  humbled  herself,  and  the  Scripture  says :  "  Because 
He  hath  regarded  the  humility  of  His  handmaid ;  for  behold  from  hence- 
forth all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed !  "  (Luke  i.  48).  Humility  was- 
the  prominent  characteristic  of  our  Blessed  Lord ;  it  was  the  constant, 
uniform  virtue  which  shone  out  in  His  life  ever  and  always.  His  other 
virtues  He  manifested  only  occasionally,  such  as  His  wisdom  among  the 
Jewish  doctors.  His  bounty  in  the  desert.  His  power  at  Cana,  His  charity 
during  His  public  life,  but  His  humility  appeared  always.  All  the  acts 
of  His  life  were  but  as  links  in  an  unbroken  chain  of  humility.  Humility 
was  the  darling  virtue  of  His  heart,  the  virtue  which  He  wished  His  dis- 
ciples specially  to  copy  from  Him  :  "  Learn  of  me,"  said  He,  "  to  be  meek 
and  humble  of  heart."  "O  humility,  humility  !  "  exclaimed  St.  Bernard,. 
"  how  precious,  how  amiable,  and  how  dear  shouldst  thou  be  to  us  for 
such  an  example,  since  the  Eternal  Son  of  the  Living  God  was  pleased  to 
be  Incarnated  with  thee  and  to  expire  in  thy  arms  on  the  Cross !  " 

But,  that  we  may  the  better  know  the  value  of  humility,  let  us  give  a 
glance  at  the  opposite  vice,  pride.  Pride,  my  brethren,  as  you  know, 
brought  Lucifer,  the  prince  of  the  angels,  from  his  exalted  place  in 
heaven,  down  to  the  infernal  regions,  there  to  suffer  tortures  without  end  ; 
pride  made  a  heretic  of  Luther,  pride  brings  infamy  and  disgrace  upoa 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  555 

the  brows  of  the  proud,  pride  makes  those  who  have  it  the  scorn  and 
contempt  of  men,  and  more,  it  makes  them  abominations  in  the  sight  of 
God.  The  proud  man  is  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God.  "God 
resists  the  proud."  He  brings  about  changes  in  circumstances  whereby 
the  proud  man  meets  with  some  unexpected  and  unwelcome  disgrace, 
and  so  what  was  an  object  of  pride  becomes  an  object  of  shame  and 
confusion. 

True  humility  receives  a  twofold  reward :  honor  before  men  and  grace 
before  God.  The  humble  man  is  universally  respected,  he  is  honored 
everywhere,  he  is  a  favorite  in  society,  his  humility  gives  him  a  noble 
aspect  and  a  winning  grace  ;  it  is  beautiful  as  the  costliest  jewel ;  like  a 
otar,  it  trembles  as  it  shines,  and  yet,  through  its  trembling,  it  brighter 
seems  to  be.  Humility  makeS  a  man  truly  generous  and  brave ;  by  it  he 
overcomes  not  only  what  is  most  difficult,  but  he  even  conquers  himself. 
Whilst  the  proud  man  is  fettered  with  a  dread  of  humiliation,  the  humble 
man  marches  on  courageously ;  he  relies  not  upon  himself,  but  exchanges 
his  own  strength,  and  puts  on  the  strength  of  God :  with  this  strength  he 
can  do  all  things. 

God  rewards  humility  with  His  grace:  "He  giveth  His  grace  to  the 
humble  ";  He  gives  the  grace  of  repentance  to  the  greatest  sinner  that 
sincerely  humbles  himself.  King  David  humbled  himself,  and  God 
mercifully  looked  down  upon  his  humility,  and  forgave  even  his  sins  of 
adultery  and  murder.  Achab  humbled  himself,  and  thereby  stopped  the 
hand  of  the  Almighty  uplifted  to  strike  him.  Nabuchodonosor  humbled 
himself  before  the  Lord,  and  for  that  he  was  restored  to  the  throne,  after 
he  had  been  reduced  by  Almighty  God  to  the  level  of  a  beast,  and  had 
been  seven  years  living  and  sleeping  upon  the  grass  of  the  forest.  Mary 
Magdalen  humbled  herself  and  cast  herself  down  at  the  feet  of  our 
Saviour,  and  begged  His  mercy  and  pardon,  and  God  forgave  her  all  her 
sins,  though,  indeed,  they  were  many  and  grievous,  and  not  even  fit  to 
be  named  except  at  Confession. 

Let  us,  then,  my  brethren,  frequently  and  earnestly  beg  of  God  to 
grant  us  this  all-important  amiable  virtue  of  humility ;  let  us  ask  it  of  Him 
in  the  words  of  St.  Augustine :  "(9  Lord,  teach  me  to  know  Thee  and  to 
know  myself;  to  know  Thee  that  I  may  love  and  glorify  Thee  alone  in  all 
things ;  and  to  know  myself,  that  I  may  never  even  secretly  confide  in 
myself  or  ascribe  anything  to  myself,  or  my  own  merits !  "    Amen. 


THE  ANGELS. 

"There  shall  no  evil  come  to  thee,  nor  shall  the  scourge  come  near  thy  dwelling,  for 
He  hath  given  His  angels  charge  over  thee  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways.  In 
their  hands  they  shall  bear  thee  up  lest  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone. 
Thou  shalt  walk  upon  the  asp  and  the  basilisk,  and  thou  shalt  trample  under 
foot  the  lion  and  the  dragon." — Psalm  xc.  io,  13. 

T  is  fitting  that  we  should  pay  honor  and  veneration  to  the  holy- 
angels  of  God.  The  praise  which  we  give  to  the  angels  does 
not  in  any  way  lessen  the  praises  due  to  Almighty  God ;  on 
the  contrary  we  praise  God  in  a  way  that  is  specially  dear  to 
Him  when  we  praise  His  holy  angels;  for  they  are  the  beautiful 
works  of  His  hands,  and  the  wonderful  instruments  of  His  mercy  and 
goodness.  When  we  praise  the  angels  we  honor  the  King  not  only  in 
His  person,  but  even  in  His  servants.  Many  of  the  Holy  Fathers  went 
about  from  city  to  city,  and  from  village  to  village,  publishing  the  praises 
of  God  by  preaching  on  the  subject  of  the  Angels. 

The  angels  are  pure  spirits  without  a  body,  created  to  adore  and  enjoy 
God  in  heaven;  the  angels  are  often  sent  as  messengers  from  God  to. 
man,  hence  the  name  of  "  angel,"  or  messenger.  They  are  also  appointed 
by  God  as  our  guardians :  "  He  hath  given  His  angels  charge  over  thee 
to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways ! "  The  greatness  of  the  angels  is  what  no 
tongue  can  adequately  tell,  no  mind  can  think;  their  nature  is  tran- 
scendently  sublime,  their  excellences  are  like  the  ocean,  boundless  and 
fathomless. 

The  angels  are  all  intelligence,  they  know  things  without  labor,  with- 
out delay,  and  without  the  least  doubt  or  uncertainty ;  they  thoroughly 
understand  everything  at  a  glance ;  things  utterly  unknown  to  the  greatest 
human  mind  sare  intimately  known  to  the  angels.  The  Sacred  Scriptures 
describe  the  angels  as  robed  in  garments  of  brightness  and  of  fire :  "  And 
the  living  creatures  (that  is,  the  angels)  ran  and  returned  like  flashes  of 
lightning"  (Ezech.  i.  14).  Their  brightness  far  surpasses  the  brightness 
of  the  sun.  St.  Anselm  says  that  the  brightness  of  one  angel  would 
eclipse  the  brightness  of  as  many  suns  as  there  are  stars  in  the  sky.  The 
angels  enjoy  God  in  heaven,  they  perpetually  adore  Him,  they  practice  a 
constant  and  perfect  fidelity  to  Him,  they  burn  with  love  for  Him,  and 
(556) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  557 

sweetly  sing  His  praises  evermore ;  from  out  the  nine  choirs  of  angels  there 
comes  unceasingly  a  strain  of  music,  sweet  and  thrilling,  and  enrapturing. 

Almighty  God  has  given  immense  power  to  the  angels,  hence  in 
Scripture  they  are  called  the  "  powers "  and  the  "  hosts  "  of  the  Lord, 
"  mighty  in  strength,  executing  His  word."  One  single  angel  could  de- 
feat millions  of  the  bravest  men ;  nay,  even  all  the  men  in  the  world 
together.  The  angels  can  cause  hurricanes  and  thunderstorms,  and 
shipwrecks,  and  earthquakes ;  they  can  stop  the  course  of  rivers,  inflict 
incurable  disorders,  or  cure  the  worst  maladies;  they  can  produce  a 
famine  or  bestow  abundance :  and  any  of  these  marvellous  effects 
they  can  cause  in  almost  a  moment  of  time.  The  angels  can  liberate 
from  prison,  as  in  the  case  of  St.  Peter  (Acts  xii.  7);  they  can 
rescue  from  lions,  as  in  the  case  of  Daniel  (Dan.  vi.  22) ;  they  can  rescue 
from  calumny,  as  in  the  case  of  Susannah  (Dan.  viii.  55);  and  from  the 
sword,  as  in  the  case  of  Isaac  (Gen.  xx.  1 1) ;  they  can  heal  from  disease, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  "  sick,  and  the  blind,  and  lame,"  who  were  cured  at 
Jerusalem  by  an  angel  moving  the  waters  of  the  Probatica  (John  v.  4). 

God  has  adorned  the  angels  with  beauty ;  their  beauty  far  surpasses  all 
the  beauties  of  art,  or  of  nature.  Indeed,  if  all  the  beauty-spots  of  this 
world  were  put  together — the  beauty  of  the  brilliant  sun,  which  shines 
out,  as  it  were,  from  the  bosom  of  the  Great  Creator  ;  the  azure  beauty  of 
the  sparkling  skies ;  the  graceful  outlines  of  the  distant  mountains,  the 
cliffs,  and  sea ;  the  beauty  of  hill,  and  dale,  and  pompous  grove,  and 
ancient  woodland ;  the  beauty  of  summer  flower,  and  green  field,  and 
lovely  river,  and  ancient  abbey,  and  stately  palace,  and  gorgeous  cathedral 
with  graceful  spire  pointing  untired  finger  to  Him  on  high;  if  all  these 
beauties,  and  all  others  that  the  mind  can  imagine,  were  placed  in  pano- 
ramic view  before  you,  they  would  not  form  even  a  degree  of  comparison 
with  the  surpassing  beauty  of  the  angels.  The  angels'  beauty  is  celestial ; 
it  is,  as  it  were,  a  web  woven  of  beauty  and  loveliness.  The  faces  of  the 
angels  are  like  resplendent  mirrors  set  round  about  and  having  a  common 
focus — the  FACE  OF  God  ! — each  one  reflects  in  itself  the  eternal  beauty 
of  God,  and  this  indescribable  image  on  each  one  and  in  all  is  mirrored 
in  God,  and  again  reflected  back  through  all  without  end.  And  this 
bright,  joyous,  and  ever-multiplying  vision  is  carried  on  for  eternity.  Nor 
do  the  rays  of  beauty,  as  they  pass  and  repass,  ever  interrupt  one  another ; 
they  glide  their  bright  way  calmly  and  tranquilly,  even  as  the  rings  upon 
the  water,  or  as  the  rays  of  the  bright  sun  reflected  in  the  calm,  clear 
bosom  of  some  lovely  lake !  I  can  fancy,  my  brethren,  how  your  hearts 
beat  within  you,  and  how  your  souls  fill  up  with  love  foTr  the  angels,  for  I 
know  it  is  pre-eminently  true  to  say  of  you  that  you  are  disposed  to  love 
what  is  beautiful,  and  noble,  and  perfect. 


558  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

Nor  are  the  angels  wanting  in  love  for  you  ;  through  their  love  of  God 
they  love  you  with  an  intense,  indescribable  love.  This  love  extends  to 
all  men,  even  to  those  away  in  the  wild  Bush  of  Australia,  or  in  the  bound- 
less forests  of  Canada,  or  in  the  wastes  of  Africa,  or  in  the  black  coalpits 
of  England,  to  those  in  caves  or  to  those  in  dungeons.  Through  love 
for  us  they  accompany  us  wherever  we  go.  "  The  angels,"  says  St.  Au- 
gustine, "  go  in  and  out  with  us,  having  their  eyes  always  fixed  upon  us, 
and  upon  all  that  we  are  doing;  if  we  stop  anywhere,  they  stop  also;  if 
we  go  forth  to  walk,  they  bear  us  company ;  if  we  journey  into  another 
country,  they  follow  us ;  go  where  we  will,  by  land  or  by  sea,  they  are 
ever  with  us." 

Next  to  God,  the  angels  are  our  oldest  friends  and  our  best ;  they 
eagerly  desire  to  promote  our  temporal  and  eternal  interest ;  they  have 
determined  that  none  should  surpass  them  in  love  for  us;  their  love  for 
us,  then,  is  greater  than  that  of  a  brother,  or  a  father,  or  a  mother.  They 
'*  bear  us  in  their  hands  ";  they  watch  over  us  day  and  night.  "  They 
who  keep  Israel  neither  slumber  nor  sleep  "  (Ps.  cxx.  4).  Their  love  for 
us  is  unceasing,  it  is  uniform,  it  never  alters,  never  varies,  even  though 
we  should  fall  into  sin,  and  treat  them  and  our  good  God  with  ingrati- 
tude and  coldness. 

The  angels  guide  us  through  life,  and  preserve  us  from  the  pitfalls  and 
precipices  which  beset  our  path.  Through  love  for  us  they  often  take 
the  form  of  men,  and  appear  so  visibly ;  love  for  man  is  then  the  ruling 
passion  of  the  angels. 

The  holy  angels  assist  us  in  temporal  things ;  indeed,  whatsoever 
benefit  or  comfort  we  receive  from  creatures  comes  to  us  through  the 
agency  of  the  angels :  they  are  intermediate  powers  between  heaven  and 
earth.  St.  Francis  and  St.  Nicholas  Tolentine  were  solaced  in  their  sick- 
ness by  the  enchanting  strains  of  music  which  were  played  for  them  by 
the  angels ;  Agar's  child  was  preserved  from  dying  of  thirst  in  the  wilder- 
ness by  an  angel  who  pointed  out  a  "well  of  water"  to  the  afflicted 
mother  (Gen.  xxi.  14) ;  Elias,  the  prophet,  received  from  an  angel  food, 
in  the  strength  of  which  he  walked  forty  days  and  forty  nights  till  he 
reached  the  mountain  of  Horeb  (2  Kings  xix.  5) ;  Tobias  was  accom- 
panied on  his  journey  by  Raphael  the  Archangel  (Tob.  xii.  15);  the 
Israelites  were  led  for  forty  years,  in  their  journey  through  the  Wilder- 
ness, by  an  angel :  for  it  was  an  angel  of  God  who  conducted  "  the  pillar 
of  cloud  by  day  and  the  pillar  of  fire  by  night,"  and  who  rescued  them 
from  the  hand  of  Pharaoh ;  for  Pharaoh,  with  a  mighty  army  of  250,000 
men,  pursued  the  Israelites  to  the  Red  Sea.  "  And,  behold,  the  waters 
were  divided.  And  the  children  of  Israel  went  in  through  the  midst  of 
the  sea  dried  up  :  for  the  water  was  as  a  wall  on  their  right  hand  and  on 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  559 

-their  left.  And  the  Egyptians  pursuing  went  in  after  them,  and  all 
Pharaoh's  horses  and  his  chariots  and  horsemen  through  the  midst  of  the 
sea,  ....  and  as  the  Egyptians  were  fleeing  away  the  waters  came  upon 
them  and  they  were  shut  up  in  the  middle  of  the  waves"  (Exod.  xiv.  21, 
•etc.) ;  and  there  remained  not  a  man  to  tell  Egypt  the  news. 

The  angels  help  us  to  attain  our  true  end,  that  is,  eternal  happiness  in 
heaven,  they  desire  to  have  Christ's  soul-saving  wishes  carried  out  in  our 
regard,  they  minister  to  our  wants :  "  For,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  are  not  all 
the  angels  ministering  spirits,  sent  to  minister  for  them  who  shall  receive 
the  inheritance  of  salvation  ?  "  (Heb.  i.  14).  The  angels  prompt  apos- 
tolic men  to  go  and  preach  the  Gospel  with  a  spirit  of  devouring  zeal,  to 
call  sinners  to  repentance,  to  go  in  search  of  "  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house 
of  Israel,  and  to  bring  him  home,"  to  extend  the  Samaritan's  healing 
hand  to  drunkards  and  tb  all  those  who  have  fallen  amongst  "  robbers," 
and  are  "  stripped,"  and  "  wounded,"  and  "  half  dead."  The  angels  ac- 
company the  ministers  of  the  Gospel.  We  read  in  the  life  of  St.  Martial, 
that  twelve  angels  visibly  assisted  him  in  his  apostolic  functions  :  we  read, 
also,  that  St.  Dominick  was  accompanied  by  angels  who  used  to  bring  a 
light  to  his  room,  open  the  door  for  him,  and  conduct  him  to  the  church, 
where,  in  presence  of  the  adorable  Sacrament  of  the  altar,  he  remained 
as  a  bee  upon  the  flower,  drawing  in  the  honey  of  true  zeal,  whereby  he 
converted  hardened  sinners  and  won  countless  souls  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  Oh,  with  what  joy  did  the  angels  announce  Jesus'  plan  for  man's 
Redemption,  his  Incarnation,  and  Birth,  and  Death,  and  Resurrection ! 
^Oh,  how  there  is  "joy  in  heaven  before  the  angels  over  one  sinner  that 
does  penancd  more  than  over  ninety-nine  just  that  need  not  penance  "  ! 
Oh,  how  the  angels  rejoice  with  the  father  of  the  "  Prodigal,"  as  he  wel- 
comes home  his  "  child  that  was  lost,"  and  puts  upon  his  finger  the  ring 
of  unending  love. 

The  angels  help  us  in  our  warfare  with  the  enemies  of  our  salvation. 
Our  life,  as  you  know,  my  brethren,  is  a  perpetual  warfare  with  Satan  and 
his  wicked  angels.  These  enemies  have  sworn,  one  and  all,  to  unfit  us 
for  heaven ;  they  are,  therefore,  much  to  be  dreaded,  and,  moreover,  they 
are  countless  in  their  numbers,  mighty  in  their  strength,  cruel  in  their 
fury,  terrible  in  their  cunning,  matchless  in  their  skill,  indefatigable  in 
their  pursuit,  and  specially  dangerous,  because  they  are  invisible  and 
penetrate  everywhere.  God,  seeing  our  inability  to  contend  with  such  a 
mighty  overwhelming  force,  and  wishing  earnestly  to  bring  us  to  heaven, 
has  mercifully  supplied  us  with  the  necessary  additional  help,  by  giving 
us  the  angels  for  our  allies  ;  and  thus  the  forces  on  our  side  far  surpass 
the  forces  against  us,  both  in  numbers,  and  skill,  and  valor,  and  power. 

"There  shall  no  evil  come  to  thee  ....  for  He  hath  given  His  angels 


560  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

charge  over  thee  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways Thou  shalt  walk 

upon  the  asp  and  the  basilisk,  and  thou  shalt  trample  under  foot  the  lion 
and  the  dragon." 

The  angels  are  ever  with  us  though  we  do  not  see  them.  The  servant 
of  Eliseus  the  prophet,  rising  early  one  morning,  went  out,  and  saw  an 
immense  army  of  Assyrians  round  about  the  city,  and  horses  and  chariots, 
and  he  told  him,  saying :  "  Alas,  alas,  alas,  my  lord  !  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 
And  Eliseus  prayed  and  said  :  "  Lord,  open  his  eyes  that  he  may  see  !  " 
And  behold  the  mountain  was  full  of  horses  and  chariots  of  fire  round 
about  Eliseus.  Thus,  my  brethren,  are  millions  of  angels  ever  ready  to 
fight  for  you,  even  though  you  see  them  not.  "  He  has  given  His  angels 
charge  over  thee,"  etc.  God,  my  brethren,  has  given  His  angels  charge 
not  only  over  individuals,  but  even  over  nations.  In  His  wonderful  mercy 
He  has  thus  guarded  our  own  beloved  island  and  saved  her  from  all  her 
enemies.  You  know,  my  brethren,  how  Ireland  has  been  surrounded  by 
enemies  from  time  to  time  who  threatened  to  destroy  her  Faith  and 
Nationality ;  you  know  how  in  the  ninth  century,  when  Ireland  was  the 
admired  of  nations  for  the  lustre  of  her  learning  and  sanctity,  wearing 
the  singular. title  which  the  nations  gave  her — "The  Island  of  Saints 
and  of  Doctors  " — receiving  students  into  her  schools  from  all  parts  of 
the  world,  and  sending  forth  missionaries  of  the  Gospel  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth;  you  know  how  at  that  time  the  island  was  surrounded  by 
the  Danes;  you  know  how  in  the  twelfth  century  Henry  II.  attacked 
Ireland,  and  how,  in  the  sixteenth,  Henry  VIII.  attacked  it  and  com- 
menced that  terrible  persecution  which  lasted  for  300  years ;  the  best 
blood  of  Ireland  was  spilled  upon  a  thousand  battle-fields:  the  Irish  were 
asked  to  give  up  their  Faith  and  Fatherland,  or  if  not  the  whole  strength 
of  earth's  mightiest  people  would  be  brought  to  bear  down  upon  them 
and  crush  them:  but  the  battle  was  fought  not  against  Ireland,  but 
against  Ireland  with  the  angels  for  her  allies;  and  thus  Ireland  has  come 
forth  victorious  from  the  struggle ;  the  palm  of  victory  is  in  her  hand,  the 
Faith  planted  by  St.  Patrick  is  still  with  her,  and,  like  the  shamrock,  she 
has  it  in  the  land  to-day  as  green  and  as  flourishing  and  as  triumphant 
as  ever !  Have  great  confidence,  then,  in  the  angels  of  God,  and  have 
recourse  to  them  in  all  dangers,  and  temptations,  and  afflictions,  and 
call  upon  them  to  shield  you  always,  especially  at  the  supreme  moment 
of  death. 

The  closest  friendships  of  this  world  usually  end  at  death  :  the  friend- 
ship of  the  angels  is  extended  to  us  after  death.  The  learned  Suarez  is 
of  opinion  that  at  the  Day  of  Judgment  the  angels  will  collect  the  ashes 
of  those  whose  guardians  they  have  been  during  life.  The  angels  visit 
the  suffering  souls  in  purgatory  and  console  them,  and  obtain  relief  for 


FATHER   O'KEEFFE. 


561 


them ;  and  this  they  do  by  the  prayers,  and  Masses,  and  alms,  and  other 
good  works  which  they  inspire  persons  to  offer  for  them. 

My  dear  brethren,  practice  a  tender  and  constant  devotion  to  the  holy 
angels,  imitate  their  fidelity  to  God,  copy  into  your  lives  their  humility 
and  their  innocence,  and  their  beautiful  angelical  purity ;  thus  you  will 
merit  a  place  with  the  angels  and  their  Queen  in  heaven,  there  to  wear 
the  crown  woven  by  angels'  hands,  there  to  be  clothed  in  royalty  and 
covered  with  glory,  there  to  enjoy  the  enrapturing  songs  of  Sion,  there 
to  see  "  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,"  with  His  wounds  beauteous  as  five 
roseate  suns,  there  to  look  at  the  Fountain  of  Love  playing  in  the  Sacred 
Heart  of  Jesus,  and  giving  out  new  glories  and  new  joys  to  all  the  blessed, 
there,  in  a  word,  to  gaze  with  rapture  upon  the  Beatific  Vision,  the  face 
of  God,  which  is  the  source  of  all  that  is  beautiful,  the  centre  of  those 
joys  that  last  forever. 


ON   PRAYER. 

'  And  I  say  to  you,  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you :  seek,  and  you  shall  find :  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened  to  you.  For  every  one  that  asketh,  receiveth :  and  he 
that  seeketh,  findeth:  and  to  him  that  knocketh,  it  shall  be  opened." — Luke 
xi.  9,  lo. 

jHERE  is  not,"  says  St.  Liguori,  "a  thing  which  preachers,  and 
confessors,  and  spiritual  books  should  insist  upon  with  more 
warmth  and  energy  than  prayer."  Without  prayer,  neither 
sermons,  nor  meditations,  nor  good  resolutions,  nor  a  knowl- 
edge of  one's  duty  will  be  sufficient  for  salvation.  For  God  has  repeatedly 
declared  that  He  will  give  the  graces  necessary  for  salvation  only  to  those 
who  pray:  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you  ! "  That  is,  ask_/frj/,  and  then 
it  shall  be  given  you. 

Prayer  is  an  elevation  of  the  soul  and  heart  to  God,  to  adore  Him,  to 
thank  Him  for  His  goodness,  and  to  petition  Him  for  all  necessaries  for 
soul  and  body.  Prayer,  like  all  other  good  things,  is  a  gift  from  God. 
Of  ourselves  we  are  not  "  sufficient  to  think  a  good  thought,"  nor  to 
speak  a  good  word.  Hence,  Almighty  God  says :  "  I  will  pour  out  upon 
the  house  of  David,  and  upon  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  the  spirit  of 
grace  and  of  prayers  "  (Zach.  xii.  lo). 

"  God  wills  all  men  to  be  saved  "  (i  Tim.  ii.  4),  and  that  no  one  should 
be  lost.  For  this  end  He  has  promised  to  give  sufficient  grace  to  all ; 
but  this  grace,  however,  He  has  promised  only  on  condition  that  we  pray 
for  it.  He  might,  of  course,  have  established  a  different  order  if  He 
chose ;  but  He  has  not  so  chosen  it.  Hence,  St.  Thomas  says :  "  What- 
ever graces  God  has  from  all  eternity  determined  to  give  us.  He  will  only 
give  them  if  we  pray  for  them."  Of  course  \he  first  grace,  such  as  the 
call  to  the  Faith  or  to  Penance,  is  an  exception ;  but,  with  this  exception 
prayer  is  absolutely  necessary  for  adults  (that  is,  those  who  have  attained 
the  years  of  discretion),  as  a  means  of  salvation,  and  its  want  cannot  be 
supplied  by  anything  else :  not  by  alms,  nor  by  fasts,  nor  by  any  other 
good  works.  The  learned  Lessius  says:  "It  is  to  be  held  as  of  faith  that 
prayer  is  necessary  to  salvation  for  adults,  as  is  gathered  from  t^e  Sacred 
Scriptures  "  (Less,  de  just,  lib.  ii.  37). 

The  Sacred  Scripture  emphatically  inculcates  the  absolute  necessity 
(562) 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  563 

of  prayer .  "  Pray,  that  you  enter  not  into  temptation  "  (Luke  xxii.  40) ; 
"Watch  ye  and  pray"  (Matt.  xxvi.  41);  "Ask,  and  you  shall  receive" 
(John  xvi.  24);  "And  He  spoke  to  them  a  parable,  that  we  ought  always 
to  pray,  and  not  to  faint"  (Luke  xviii.  i).  These  words:  "pray," 
"  watch,"  "ask,"  and  "ought,"  imply  a  strict  precept  of  prayer;  and  this 
precept  has  not  only  been  delivered  to  us  in  words,  but  it  has  been  en- 
forced by  the  example  of  our  Lord  Himself.  On  one  occasion  He  re- 
tired into  the  desert  and  there  fasted  and  prayed  for  forty  days ;  on  other 
occasions  He  spent  whole  nights  in  prayer  (Luke  vi.  12);  and  we  know 
how  He  prepared  Himself  for  His  Passion  by  fervent  and  repeated  prayer 
in  the  garden,  and  how  He  not  only  gave  instructions  as  to  the  manner  of 
prayer,  but  even  furnished  the  very  words :  "  Our  Father,"  etc.  (Matt.  vi. 
9).  And  all  this  He  did,  not  through  any  necessity  on  His  part,  but  to 
show  us  an  example,  and  to  convince  us  of  the  absolute  necessity  of 
prayer.  St.  Thomas,  the  Angel  of  the  schools,  holds  that  the  precept  of 
prayer  binds  under  pain  of  grievous  sin,  especially  in  three  cases: — i, 
when  a  man  is  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin  ;  2,  when  he  is  in  danger  of  fall- 
ing into  mortal  sin ;  3,  when  he  is  in  danger  of  death.  And  St.  Liguori 
states,  that  he  who  neglects  prayer  for  a  whole  month,  or  at  most  for  two 
months,  cannot  be  excused  from  mortal  sin. 

Prayer  is  required  in  order  to  keep  the  commandments  of  God  and  of 
His  Church.  For  we  cannot  keep  the  commandments  without  grace ;  and 
grace  is  given  only  to  those  who  pray :  "  You  have  not  because  you  ask 
not  "  (James  iv.  2) ;  therefore  prayer  is  necessary  in  order  to  be  able  to 
keep  the  commandments,  and  thus  to  enter  into  eternal  life. 

Prayer  possesses  a  wondrous  efficacy.  From  time  to  time  Almighty 
God  commands  us  to  do  things  far  beyond  our  natural  strength,  and 
even  beyond  the  ordinary  grace  given  to  men :  yet  He  does  not  com- 
mand impossibilities,  for  He  gives  us  all  the  needful  help  in  prayer.  And 
He  requires  of  us  only  to  ask  Him  for  it.  "  God,"  says  the  Council  of 
Trent,  "does  not  command  impossibilities,  but  by  commanding  us  (to  do 
anything),  He  admonishes  us  to  do  what  we  can,  to  pray  for  what  help 
we  need,  and  then  He  helps  us  to  make  us  able  "  (Sess.  vi.,  chap,  2).  If 
any  one  falls  into  sin  it  is  through  want  of  prayer  in  the  time  of  tempta- 
tion. And  here  it  is  to  be  specially  remarked  that  no  one  can  resist  the 
impure  temptations  of  the  flesh  without  prayer.  "  Chastity,"  says  St. 
Liguori,  "  is  a  virtue  which  we  have  not  strength  to  practice  unless  God 
gives  it  to  us ;  and  God  does  not  give  this  strength  except  to  him  who 
asks  ox  prays  for  it."  "  Prayer,"  says  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  "  is  the  bulwark 
of  chastity."  And,  again,  Solomon  the  wise  says :  "As  I  knew  that  I 
could  not  otherwise  be  continent,  except  God  gave  it,  I  went  to  the  Lord 
and  besought  Him  "  (viii.  21).     When  we  pray  to  God  He  communicates 


564  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

His  strength  to  us,  and  thus  each  one  can  say,  as  the  apostle  said  :  "  I  can 
do  all  things  in  Him  who  strengtheneth  me  "  (Phil.  iv.  13).  There  is,  there- 
fore, nothing  stronger  than  a  man  who  prays.  How  consoling,  my  breth- 
ren, to  think  that  we  have  within  our  power  all  the  graces  and  assistance 
that  we  require,  if  only  we  pray  for  them.     "  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive !  " 

Now,  my  brethren,  how  is  it  that,  notwithstanding  the  many  and  in- 
fallible promises  made  by  God  with  regard  to  prayer,  we  sometimes  pray, 
and  yet  do  not  receive  what  we  pray  for?  Is  it  because  God  is  faithless 
to  His  promises ;  or,  is  it  because  we  do  not  pray  in  the  proper  manner  f 
God  cannot  be  faithless  to  His  promises,  otherwise  He  would  cease  to  be 
God;  His  word,  like  Himself,  must  stand  forever.  The  reason,  then, 
why  our  prayers  are  not  sometimes  heard  is,  because  we  do  not  pray  in  the 
proper  manner,  and  with  the  proper  conditions.  '*  You  ask  and  you 
receive  not,  because  you  ask  amiss"  (James  iv.  3).  It  is  therefore  of  the 
utmost  practical  importance  to  know  accurately  what  those  conditions 
are  which  are  required  in  order  to  render  our  prayers  acceptable  to  God 
and  beneficial  to  ourselves. 

The  first  condition  is  that  we  must  always  offer  our  prayers  to  God 
with  an  humble  heart.  At  prayer  we  must  look  upon  ourselves,  as  indeed 
we  really  are,  utterly  unworthy  of  any  favor  from  God ;  and  that,  so  far 
from  having  any  claim  upon  His  goodness,  we  deserve  rather  to  be  very 
severely  punished  on  account  of  our  many  sins  and  our  great  ingratitude. 
When,  therefore,  we  go  before  God  in  prayer,  we  must  carefully  lay  aside 
all  conceit  and  presumption  and  self-complacency.  "The  Almighty," 
says  St.  Liguori,  "  does  not  hear  the  supplications  of  the  proud,  who  trust 
in  their  own  strength,  but  leaves  them  to  their  own  weakness  and  misery, 
which,  when  they  are  abandoned  by  divine  grace,  will  infallibly  lead  them 
to  perdition."  If  our  prayers  be  not  attended  with  humility  God  will  not 
grant  our  petitions.  "  God  resists  the  proud,  and  giveth  His  grace  to 
the  humble "  (James  iv.  6).  On  the  other  hand,  "  the  prayer  of  him 
that  humbleth  himself  shall  pierce  the  clouds,  and  he  will  not  depart  till 
the  Most  High  behold "  (Eccl.  xxxv.  21).  The  saints  never  failed  to 
ground  their  prayers  on  humility;  they  acknowledged  God's  supreme 
dominion  over  them,  and  their  total  dependence  on  Him,  and  thus  they 
gave. due  honor  to  Almighty  God,  and  their  prayers  were  always  heard. 
"  Thy  power,  O  God,  is  not  in  a  multitude,  nor  is  Thy  pleasure  in  the 
strength  of  horses,  nor  from  the  beginning  have  the  proud  been  acceptable 
to  Thee,  but  the  prayer  of  the  humble  and  meek  hath  always  pleased  Thee  " 
(Judith  ix.  16).  "  I  shall  speak  to  my  Lord,"  said  Abraham,  "though  I 
am  but  dust  and  ashes "  (Gen.  xviii.  27).  Peter  and  David,  and  the 
Prodigal,  and  the  humble  publican,  are  memorable  instances  of  the  effi- 
cacy of  humility  in  prayer. 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  565 

A  contrite  heart  is  also  required  in  order  to  secure  real  efficacy  in  our 
prayers.  God  sets  His  face  against  the  sinner  who  wilfully  persists  in 
mortal  sin.  "  The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  just,  and  His  ears  open 
to  their  prayers ;  but  the  countenance  of  the  Lord  is  against  them  that  do 
evil  things,  to  cut  off  the  remembrance  of  them  from  the  earth  "  (Ps.  xxxiii. 
17).  But  the  sinner  in  mortal  sin  is  not,  therefore,  to  give  up  prayer;  for 
the  Lord  is  ever  ready  to  hear  even  the  greatest  sinners,  provided  they 
have  a  sincere  desire  to  turn  to  Him  and  to  forsake  their  evil  ways.  "  Let 
the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unjust  man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him 
return  to  the  Lord,  and  He  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  He  is  bountiful  to  forgive  "  (Is.  Iv.  6).  "A  contrite  and  humble  heart, 
O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise  "  (Ps.  1.  19).  He  who  disobeys  the  com- 
mands of  God  cannot  reasonably  expect  that  God  will  listen  to  him  when 
he  prays ;  for  God  will  hear  those  only  who  hear  Him  ;  and  we  must  hear 
God  by  hearing  Him  in  His  commandments,  and  obeying  every  one  of 
them.  "  He  that  turneth  away  his  ears  from  hearing  the  law,  his  prayer 
shall  be  an  abomination  "  (Prov.  xxviii.  9).  On  the  other  hand,  he  who 
hears  the  commandments,  and  keeps  them,  is  sure  to  be  heard  when  he 
prays :  "  Whatsoever  we  shall  ask  we  shall  receive  of  Him,  because  we 
keep  His  commandments,  and  do  these  things  that  are  pleasing  in  His 
sight"  (i  John  iii.  21).  And  again:  "The  continual  prayer  of  a  just 
man  availeth  much"  (John  v.  16). 

We  should  always  offer  our  prayers  to  God  with  fervor  and  attention  ; 
at  prayer  the  mind  and  heart  should  go  with  the  tongue,  otherwise 
there  will  be  no  prayer ;  it  will  be  a  mere  pitiful  lip-service,  something 
like  the  words  repeated  by  a  man  in  his  sleep,  or  out  of  his  senses.  The 
substance  of  prayer  requires  that  there  be  an  elevation  of  the  soul  to 
God.  Sometimes,  however,  it  is  very  difficult  to  keep  the  mind  thus 
elevated  during  the  time  of  prayer,  and  distractions  of  many  kinds  and 
forms  interfere  ;  these  distractions,  if  driven  away,  or  firmly  opposed,  pro- 
duce no  hurt  to  the  soul ;  they  serve  as  an  occasion  of  merit.  But  it  the 
distractions  be  wilfully  and  deliberately  entertained,  our  so-called  prayers 
offend  Almighty  God,  and  are  an  abomination  in  His  sight.  God  rejected 
the  prayers  of  the  Pharisees,  for  they  were  wanting  in  fervor:  "This 
people,"  said  the  Lord,  "  honoreth  me  with  their  lips,  but  their  heart  is 
far  from  me ;  and  in  vain  do  they  worship  me  "  (Matt.  xv.  8,  9).  Where- 
fore, we  should  always  prepare  ourselves  well  before  we  pray,  according 
to  the  words  of  Ecclesiasticus  :  "  Before  prayer  prepare  thy  soul  and  be 
not  as  a  man  that  tempteth  God  "  (xviii.  23). 

Perseverance  is  a  most  necessary  condition  of  prayer.  God  often  delays 
to  grant  the  object  of  our  prayers  in  order  to  try  our  patience  and  to  ex- 
ercise our  faith,  and  hope,  and  love ;  He  likes  to  grant  us  what  we  ask 


566  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

(provided  it  be  good  for  us),  but  then  He  often  wishes  to  grant  it  as  the 
reward  of  our  perseverance.  We  should  not,  therefore,  cease  from  prayer 
though  God  should  think  fit  to  delay  in  granting  what  we  ask.  "  We 
ought  always  to  pray,  and  not  to  faint  "  (Luke  xviii.  i).  Should  the  will 
at  any  time  fail,  let  us  ask  of  God,  grace  and  strength  to  persevere ;  we 
have  many  examples  to  show  us  the  necessity  of  perseverance  in  prayer; 
the  blind  beggar  on  the  road  to  Jericho  was  not  cured  of  his  blindness 
the  first  time  he  cried  out :  "  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me !  " 
(Luke  xviii.  38) ;  the  woman  of  Canaan  did  not  get  her  daughter  cured 
the  first  time  she  cried  :  "  Have  mercy  on  me,  O  Lord,  Thou  Son  of 
David,  my  daughter  is  grievously  troubled  by  a  devil !"  (Matt.  xv.  22). 
He  first  tried  her  faith  and  perseverance  in  prayer,  and  then  he  granted 
her  what  she  asked :  **  O  woman,"  said  He,  "  great  is  thy  faith ;  be  it 
done  to  thee  as  thou  wilt;  and  her  daughter  was  cured  from  that  hour" 
{lb.  28).  We  read  in  the  First  Book  of  Kings  (chap,  i.),  that  Anna,  the 
mother  of  Samuel,  who  had  been  barren  for  a  long  time,  and  had  suffered 
many  reproaches  on  that  account,  prayed  perseveringly  to  the  Lord,  and 
He  heard  her,  and  gave  her  a  son  :  "  As  Anna  had  her  heart  full  of  grief 

.  .  .  .  she  ;«m//?//zV^  prayers  before  the  Lord And  Anna  conceived 

and  bore  a  son,  and  called  his  name  Samuel ;  because  she  had  asked  him 
of  the  Lord."  By  perseverance  in  prayer  Moses  averted  the  wrath  of 
God  kindled  against  the  people  for  their  sins  (Exod.  xxxii.  14) ;  by  per- 
severance in  prayer  Elias  raised  to  life  the  son  of  the  widow  of  Sarepta, 
and  by  the  same  means  he  opened  and  shut  the  heavens ;  "  He  prayed 

that   it   might  not  rain  ....  and  it   rained  not And,  again,  he 

prayed,  and  the  heaven  gave  rain,  and  the  earth  brought  forth  her  fruit " 
(3  Kings  xvii.  and  xviii.).  St,  Monica  prayed  for  the  conversion  of  her  son 
Augustine  for  fifteen  years,  and  it  was  only  after  that  long  time  that  God 
heard  her  prayers,  and  rewarded  her  perseverance.  St.  James  tells  us  that 
it  is  the  continual  ^rdiy&r  of  the  just  man  that  availeth  much  (v.  if). 

When  we  pray  we  must  always  have  great  confidence  that  our  prayers 
will  be  heard ;  we  have  solid  grounds  for  this  confidence — God's  infal- 
lible word.  God  has  graciously  pledged  His  word  to  grant  us  what  we 
ask:  "Ask,  and  you  shall  receive"  (John  xvi.  24);  "All  things  whatso- 
ever you  shall  ask  in  prayer,  believing  (that  is,  having  confidence),  you 
shall  receive "  (Matt.  xxi.  22) ;  "  You  have  not,  because  you  ask  not  ** 
(James  iv.  2)  with  confidence;  and,  again  :  "Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of 
trouble,  and  I  will  deliver  you  "  (Ps.  xlix.  15).  God,  then,  has  bound 
Himself  to  grant  what  we  may  ask,  and  He  cannot  break  His  word, 
otherwise  He  would  cease  to  be  God.  Prayer  is  the  only  petition  that 
is  always  granted  ;  other  petitions  depend  entirely  upon  the  dispositions  of 
the  persons  to  whom  the  petitions  are  addressed,  and  are,  accordingly, 


FATHER  O'KEEFFE.  557 

attended  with  doubt  and  uncertainty ;  but  in  prayer  there  is  no  room  for 
doubt ;  God  has  made  a  promise  of  granting  all  petitions  that  are  duly 
addressed  to  Him,  and  His  promise,  like  Himself,  shall  stand  forever ! 
Ail  confidence  should  be  placed  in  God,  and  in  the  merits  of  His  Son, 
and  no  confidence  whatever  should  be  placed  in  ourselves,  or  in  our  own 
merits.  The  Centurion  mentioned  in  the  Gospel  (Matt.  viii.  8),  placed  such 
entire  confidence  in  the  word  of  our  Lord,  that  his  servant  was  cured : 
"  Lord,"  said  he,  "  I  am  not  worthy  that  Thou  shouldst  enter  under  my 
roof :  but  only  say  the  word,  and  my  servant  shall  be  healed !  .  .  .  .  And 
Jesus  said  to  the  Centurion  :  Go,  and  as  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done 
to  thee;  and  his  servant  was  healed  at  the  same  hour "  (viii.  13).  "If 
any  of  you,"  says  St.  James,  "  want  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  who 
giveth  to  all  men  abundantly,  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be  given 

him  :  but  let  him  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering Let  not  that  man 

(who  wavereth)  think  that  he  shall  receive  anything  of  the  Lord  "  (i.  5,  7). 
Let  us,  then,  always  "  go  with  confidence  to  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we 
may  obtain  mercy  and  find  grace  in  seasonable  aid  "  (Heb.  iv.  16). 

But,  my  brethren,  though  Almighty  God  has  bound  Himself  to  grant 
our  petitions,  yet  He  has  bound  Himself  only  on  condition  that  we  pray 
with  resignation  to  His  will ;  and  this  is  fit,  and  reasonable,  though  in- 
deed we  may  not  be  able  to  understand  why  He  should  grant  some  peti- 
tions at  once  and  delay  others,  and  even  sometimes  refuse  them,  and  grant 
a  different  thing  altogether.  God's  ways  are  not  our  ways,  and  He 
understands  better  than  we  what  will  promote  the  interests  of  our  im- 
mortal souls.  When  we  pray  for  spiritual  favors  necessary  for  our  salva- 
tion, we  may  always  expect  them  ;  but  we  must  be  prepared,  however,  to 
receive  them  at  the  time,  and  after  the  manner,  and  in  the  proportion  that 
God  sees  will  benefit  us  most.  When  we  pray  for  temporal  things,  such 
as  riches,  honors,  pleasures,  good  health,  deliverance  from  sickness, 
trouble,  and  the  like,  we  must  not  invariably  expect  them  to  be  granted ; 
for,  though  it  is  laudable  to  pray  for  them  as  aids,  or  helps  to  salvation, 
yet  God  often  withholds  them  from  us ;  and  this  He  does  through  love, 
when  He  sees  they  would  prove  an  injury  rather  than  a  service  to  us. 
"  God,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  denies  some  things  in  His  mercy  which  He 
grants  in  His  wrath."  What  we  think  would  be  the  greatest  service  to  us 
would  be  often,  perhaps,  the  greatest  injury  to  us ;  and,  therefore,  it  is 
best  for  us  to  rely  altogether  upon  God's  sweet  will  in  our  regard. 
"  This  is  the  confidence  which  we  have  towards  Him :  That  whatsoever 
we  shall  ask  according  to  His  will,  He  heareth  us  "  (i  John  v.  14). 

The  last  and  by  far  the  most  important  condition  required  in  order 
to  render  our  prayer  efficacious  is  that  it  be  offered  in  the  name  and 
through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ.     The  name  oi  Jesus  Christ  serves  as  a 


568 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


royal  seal  upon  our  prayers,  and  His  merits  furnish  the  ground  upon 
which  all  our  claims  securely  rest.  Hence,  the  Church  usually  terminates 
her  prayers  with  the  words  "  Through  the  same  Jesus  Christ,"  etc. 
Prayers  offered  up  in  the  name  and  through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ 
carry  with  them  such  weight  and  influence  that  they  cannot  fail  to  be 
heard  by  our  heavenly  Father;  for  Christ  Himself  has  said:  "Amen, 
amen,  I  say  unto  you :  if  you  ask  the  Father  for  anything  in  my  nanie^ 
He  will  give  it  to  you.  Hitherto  you  have  not  asked  anything  in  my 
name.  Ask,  and  you  shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full  "  (John  xvi. 
23,  etc.). 

Oh !  my  dear  brethren,  if  we  always  pray  with  these  proper  conditions 
our  prayers  shall  surely  be  heard,  and  our  "  joy  shall  be  full  ":  we  shall 
here  on  earth  find  innumerable  graces  of  the  choicest  kind.  And,  thus, 
through  the  mercy  of  God,  and  the  powerful  intercession  of  Mary  Immac- 
ulate, and  all  the  other  saints,  we  shall  save  our  immortal  souls,  and 
hereafter  receive  the  glorious  reward  promised  to  those  who  pray ;  the 
ecstatic  sight  of  God  Himself,  face  to  face,  not  transiently,  as  a  bright 
flash  of  light  renewed  occasionally  to  feed  our  immortality  with  content- 
ment and  bliss,  but  as  an  abiding  VISION,  sweet,  and  beautiful,  and  en- 
rapturing, such  as  the  face  of  God  must  be  in  the  kingdom  of  His  glory ! 
Amen. 


REVEREND  MICHAEL  B.  BUCKLEY. 


Reverend  Michael  Bernard  Buckley  was  born  in  Ireland,  in  the  year 
1 831,  and  ordained  to  the  holy  priesthood  about  1855.  In  1870  he  began 
a  lecturing  tour  in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  and  the  discourses 
delivered  by  Father  Buckley  reproduced  in  this  volume  will  be  thoroughly 
appreciated  by  all  admirers  of  pious  reading. 


(569) 


Sfte  pledge  at  ^^ppintss. 


ALL   SAINTS'   DAY. 

"God  is  wonderful  in  His  Saints." — Psalm  Ixvii.  36. 

|EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— There  is  scarcely  a  day 
in  the  year  on  which  the  Church  does  not  commemorate  the 
virtues,  celebrate  the  glories,  and  invoke  the  intercession  of 
some  Saint  of  God.  But  on  this  day,  with  one  voice  of  uni- 
versal jubilee,  she  sings  the  praises  of  the  whole  sainted  host — of  the 
patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles,  of  the  martyrs,  confessors,  and  virgins 
— who  fought  the  good  fight  upon  earth,  and  have  won  the  crown  of 
eternal  glory  in  Heaven.  The  days  of  the  year  being  so  few,  when  com- 
pared with  the  catalogue  of  the  glorified,  the  Church  celebrates  this  one, 
grand,  comprehensive  feast  that  no  Saint  may  be  deprived  of  the  honor 
which  is  his  due  ;  or  be  left  unsolicited  for  those  prayers  by  which  he 
may  assist  mankind  in  the  work  of  salvation.  That  the  Church,  in  the 
celebration  of  this  solemnity,  acts  with  characteristic,  that  is,  consummate 
wisdom,  no  Christian  is  presumed  to  doubt ;  but  for  the  strengthening  of 
our  faith,  as  well  as  the  enlightenment  of  our  understanding,  it  is  well 
that  we  should  know  the  motives  by  which  she  is  influenced  in  establish- 
ing festivals  for  the  honor  of  the  Saints.  One  motive,  and  the  strongest, 
is,  that  thus  she  may  give  glory  to  God :  for,  in  the  conquest  achieved 
by  the  Saints  over  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  is  manifested  the 
invincible  power  of  Divine  grace  by  which  so  great  a  triumph  was  accom- 
plished. The  Saint  was  human  and  weak,  but  in  the  hands  of  God  he 
became  a  tower  of  strength — he  did  all  things  in  Him  who  fortified  him. 
God  was  the  General,  and  the  Saint  was  the  soldier — the  victory  was  the 
victory  of  grace ;  the  glory  was  the  glory  of  the  Almighty.  Well  has  the 
psalmist  thus  exclaimed,  "  Mirabilis  Deus  in  Sanctis  suis,"  "  God  is  won- 
derful in  His  Saints." 

Again,  the  Church  celebrates  the  memory  of  the  Saint  because  he  tvas 
a  valiant  soldier,  a  faithful  servant  of  the  Most  High,  and  merits  praise 
for  his  achievements  in  the  battle  with  God's  enemies.  Will  the  w6rld — 
which  erects  imperishable  monuments  to  valor,  to  genius,  to  worth  ;  which 
venerates  the  most  trifling  relics  of  those  whom  its  votaries  call  great ; 
which  perpetuates  in  bronze  and  marble,  and  immortalizes  in  music  and 
song,  the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth — deny  its  homage  to  the  soldiers  and 

(571) 


572  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

servants  of  that  God  who  made  the  earth,  and  who,  after  lives  of  insuper- 
able heroism,  reign  with  Him  in  unfading  glory?  God  Himself  has 
honored  the  Saints — during  their  lives  He  gave  them  the  power  to  arrest 
unerring  nature  in  her  course ;  to  call  the  living  water  from  the  solid  rock ; 
to  stay  the  sun  in  his  mid-heaven  career ;  to  pass  unscathed  through  the 
burning  fire  ;  to  remove  mountains ;  to  raise  the  dead  to  life.  Will  the 
world  refuse  to  honor  those  whom  the  world's  Creator  has  so  singularly 
honored  ? 

Another  motive  which  directs  the  Church  in  commemorating  the 
glories  of  the  Saints  is,  that  by  so  doing  she  may  hold  them  up  as  models 
for  imitation  to  her  children  still  on  earth,  to  show  the  possibility  not 
only  of  virtue  but  of  heroism,  and  to  entice  to  the  practice  of  it  by  pro- 
posing the  contemplation  of  its  rewards  ;  and  the  last  motive  of  all  is, 
that  she  may  procure  for  us  with  God  the  powerful  intercession  of  those 
His  chosen  servants  whom  He  honors  so  much,  and  whose  entreaties, 
now  that  they  are  glorified,  He  hears  with  delight  and  heeds  with  the 
accordance  of  His  benignity.  His  mercy,  and  His  love. 

On  this  day,  then,  the  Church  honors  God  in  all  His  Saints.  She 
celebrates  the  triumphs  of  His  grace  through  all  time  in  their  labors,  their 
sufferings  and  death — in  the  wisdom  of  their  teaching,  in  the  sublimity  of 
their  ambition,  in  their  unconquerable  fidelity,  in  their  undying  love  for 
Him.  She  honors  them  all  to-day  with  one  shout  of  praise  and  benedic- 
tion. She  holds  them  up  to  her  children  as  a  galajiy  of  heroic  virtue,  to 
guide  them  through  this  valley  of  tears.  She  implores  them  to  join  their 
voices  together  in  prayer  at  the  throne  of  the  All-merciful,  that  He  may 
give  grace  and  happiness  to  all  mankind.  "  Let  us,"  then,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  liturgy  of  this  day,  "  let  us  all  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  celebrat- 
ing this  festive  day  in  honor  of  all  the  Saints,  in  whose  solemnity  the 
angels  rejoice,  and  give  glory  to  the  Son  of  God." 

Notwithstanding  the  reasonableness  of  the  Church  in  appointing 
festivals  in  honor  of  the  Saints,  there  are  many  who  style  themselves 
Christians,  and  yet  who  regard,  some  with  indifference,  and  many  with 
contempt — those  great  servants  of  God.  They  describe  the  Saints  as 
men  of  feeble  intellects,  carried  away  into  absurd  excesses  by  a  spirit  of 
fanaticism  ;  foolishly  denying  themselves  the  legitimate  pleasures  of  life ; 
mean  and  vulgar  in  their  tastes  and  habits  ;  ignorant  and  unlettered  :  in 
a  word,  not  to  be  compared  for  a  moment  to  the  humblest  of  those  whose 
names  swell  the  record  of  the  world's  greatness. 

This  is  a  question,  my  brethren,  which  can  be  examined  with  great 
spiritual  profit :  and  I  am  prepared  to  prove,  by  the  very  arguments  of 
worldlings  themselves,  that  the  humblest  Saint  in  heaven  was  a  greater 
man  than  the  proudest  warrior,  philosopher,  statesman,  or  philanthropist, 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  573 

before  whose  memory  the  world  bows  down  in  most  respectful  homage. 
How  shall  we  discover  the  truth  in  this  investigation  ?  What  are  the 
marks  and  tokens  of  true  greatness  ?  The  world  answers,  and  we  must 
agree  with  the  world,  that  he  alone  is  truly  great — 1st,  whose  conceptions 
are  sublime,  and  whose  ambition  soars  above  the  common  aspirations  of 
mankind  ;  2dly,  who  is  a  being  of  indomitable  courage ;  and,  3dly,  who 
performs  great  and  wonderful  deeds  during  his  stay  upon  this  earth. 
Now,  let  us  see  whether,  according  to  this  triple  standard,  the  Church  or 
the  world  has  produced  the  greater  heroes. 

And  first,  with  regard  to  the  mark  of  lofty  views  and  sublime  concep- 
tions— what  are  the  views  and  conceptions  of  the  worldly  great  ?  What 
is  the  proudest  ambition  of  the  world's  heroes  ?  The  noblest,  if  indeed  it 
be  noble,  which  any  seek,  is  to  enjoy  power  and  fame  during  life,  and  to 
have  their  memories  honored  by  a  long  posterity.  That  power  and  fame 
they  strive  for,  some  by  force  of  arms — by  desolating  whole  countries, 
and  destroying  innocent  people ;  by  acquiring  vast  dominions,  and  accu- 
mulating countless  treasures — by  robbing  and  reducing  to  slavery  millions 
of  their  fellow-men  :  contented  themselves  to  die  in  the  very  summer-time 
of  life,  provided  it  be  in  the  noontide  of  their  glory.  The  readers  of  the 
world's  history  admire  the  grand  conceptions  of  an  Alexander,  and  the 
lofty  ambition  that  impelled  him  to  lay  one  world  waste,  and  sigh  for 
another  which  he  might  conquer.  What,  though  he  was  struck  down  by 
death,  in  the  very  bloom  of  his  manhood,  and  wrenched,  like  a  sapling, 
forever  from  the  earth  !  Fame  swells  her  canticles  to  a  Caesar,  in  the 
insolence  of  his  pride,  traversing  Europe  like  a  destroying  angel,  bringing 
home  to  grace  the  capital  of  the  world  the  richest  spoils  of  kingdoms ! 
What,  though  as  the  imperial  diadem  was  about  to  settle  on  his  forehead, 
he  was  slaughtered,  even  by  his  friends,  on  the  very  spot  from  which  he 
aspired  to  rule  the  nations  of  the  earth !  But  there  is  a  greatness  of  con- 
ception praised  by  worldlings,  besides  that  of  warriors.  They  laud  the 
aspiring  genius  of  the  scientific  philosopher,  whose  inquisitive  mind  at  one 
time  pierces  the  depths  of  the  earth,  and  at  another  presumes  to  describe 
the  motions  and  properties  of  the  stars  of  heaven ;  though,  at  the  end  of 
a  long  and  studious  life,  this  profound  thinker  confesses  himself  a  very 
child  on  the  ocean-shore  of  knowledge  ;  and  though  his  midnight  and 
solitary  lucubrations  had  only  for  their  end  the  acquisition  of  a  name  to 
be  transmitted  to  posterity !  The  statesman's  ambition  is  for  the  power 
to  rule  the  minds  and  control  the  actions  of  his  fellow;men — but  his  pas- 
sion is  not  for  the  welfare  of  mankind,  but  for  the  aggrandizement  of  self. 
The  philanthropist  loves  his  kind,  but,  alas !  his  motives  are  not  pure ; 
philanthropy  is  the  false  coin  of  charity ;  self-love  is  at  the  bottom  of  his 
devotions ;  were  he  disinterested  he  would  be  a  saint ;  but  vanity  is  his 


574  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

besetting  sin ;  he  must  be  content  with  the  vain  homage  of  a  sinful  world. 
Come  forth,  ye  Saints  of  God,  and  let  us  see  how  stand  your  sublime  views, 
compared  with  the  views  of  the  great  ones  of  the  world  :  ye  warriors,  who 
would  usurp  the  dominion  and  sway  of  nations,  alas !  how  wretched  your 
ambition !  The  Saints  despised  the  world  ;  they  would  not  have  accepted 
the  sceptre  of  all  the  united  kingdoms  of  the  earth ;  for  they  knew  too 
well  how  transient  was  the  splendor,  how  false  the  grandeur,  how  unreal 
the  happiness  of  the  despot !  What  you  sighed  for,  as  grand  and  glorious, 
they  disregarded  as  mean  and  contemptible.  Here  below  they  saw  only 
sorrow  and  tears,  perpetual  change,  and  perishable  goods ;  their  thoughts 
were  for  a  land  of  joy  and  gladness,  a  land  of  eternal  beauty ;  their  aspira- 
tions were  for  thee  of  which  such  "  glorious  things  are  said,  oh !  City  of 
God  !  "  and  there  they  reign,  and  shall  reign  forever  ;  while  you,  unhappy 
wretches,  contented  to  bask  for  an  hour  in  the  glare  of  your  own  self-com- 
placency, are  excluded  forever  from  power,  from  kingdom,  and  from 
glory.  What  if  posterity  honor  your  memory — if  columns  defying  time 
proclaim  your  greatness — if  the  poet,  the  painter,  the  sculptor,  transmit 
through  ages  the  lineaments  of  your  countenances,  and  the  magnificence 
of  your  conceptions !  your  eyes  are  not  pleased,  for  they  are  now  sight- 
less, and  mingled  with  the  dust ;  the  chant  of  their  praises  can  give  no 
joy  to  your  ears,  for,  alas !  no  sound  can  echo  through  the  silent  chambers 
of  the  grave. 

The  great  thinkers  and  philosophers  of  this  world  have  racked  their 
brains  to  discover  the  nature  of  the  Deity — of  the  universe — of  man — of 
the  dim  past,  and  the  still  more  mysterious  future.  When  not  submit- 
ting to  Revelation,  into  what  extravagances  have  they  roamed ;  what 
various  theories  have  they  not  broached ;  how  many  strange  systems 
have  they  not  formed !  Some  have  limited  the  power  even  of  the  Omnip- 
otent!  Some  have  denied  His  being  altogether;  some  believed  in  noth- 
ing. All  this  has  been  only  an  attempt,  by  reasoning,  to  disprove  the 
existence  of  an  avenging  God,  and  to  clear  the  road  for  a  free  indulgence 
of  the  passions,  by  removing  the  apprehension  of  punishment.  Where 
here  is  sublimity  of  conception?  While  your  philosophers  have  denied 
that  the  body,  once  corrupted  in  the  grave,  could  ever  rise  to  immortality! 
while  they  thus  consoled  themselves  with  the  horrible  solace  of  anni- 
hilation, the  Saints,  confiding  in  the  Almighty  power  of  God,  and  in  the 
inexhaustible  merits  of  His  Divine  Son,  knew  that,  as  with  the  grains  of 
seed  placed  in  the  earth,  corruption  must  precede  incorruption ;  and 
instead  of  looking  forward  to  annihilation  as  their  hope,  their  lan- 
guage and  their  aspirations  were  those  of  the  holy  patriarch  Job:  "I 
know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  in  the  last  day  I  shall  rise  out  of 
the  earth,  and  I  shall  be  clothed  again  with  my  skin,  and  in  my  flesh  I 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  675 

shall  see  my  God ;  when  I  myself  shall  see,  and  my  eyes  shall  behold, 
and  not  another.     This  hope  is  laid  up  in  my  bosom." 

The  highest  ambition,  then,  of  worldlings,  is  altogether  confined  to 
earth — to  live  as  long  as  possible — to  enjoy  the  world's  goods  in  pro- 
fusion— to  have  power,  honor,  and  fame,  to  be  praised  by  their  fellow- 
men  during  life — then  to  die,  and  to  be  spoken  of  in  terms  of  appro- 
bation, through  all  posterity.  But  the  ambition  of  the  Saints  is  to  live 
as  long  as  God  wills — to  take  the  world's  goods  in  stint  or  abundance,  as 
it  pleases  the  Great  Giver — to  have  the  power  to  thank  and  praise  Him — 
the  honor  to  be  His  servant — no  fame,  no  praise ;  for  these  belong  to 
God — then  to  die,  and  to  be  happy  with  that  God,  for  all  eternity.  The 
world  shall  have  passed  away,  and  all  its  glory — its  great  ones  shall  be 
forgotten ;  they  shall  have  had  their  reward — fame  in  the  world  through 
the  centuries  called  time,  which  now  appears  as  a  speck  on  the  horizon 
of  eternity;  while  eternity  itself  stretches  out  before  their  vision — a 
shoreless  ocean — an  ocean  of  unfathomable  blessings,  where  all  is  light 
and  truth,  and  knowledge,  and  peace,  and  joy  forever.  Then  let  it  not 
be  said  that  the  Saints  lacked  the  character  of  lofty  ambition,  to  prove 
their  greatness  above  the  greatness  of  the  world. 

H.  But  let  us  see  whether,  on  the  second  ground,  namely,  indom- 
itable courage,  they  can  equally  claim  superior  admiration.  I  do  not 
speak  of  that  courage  which  is  displayed  on  the  field  of  battle — for  that, 
after  all,  is  a  vulgar  courage,  often  evoked  by  the  excitement  of  the  hour, 
by  the  apprehension  of  disgrace,  by  the  stimulus  of  common  example — 
in  fact  a  courage  which  is,  so  to  speak,  professional,  the  result  of  teaching 
and  practice.  Nevertheless,  even  in  this  aspect  of  courage,  the  Saints 
may  compete  with  the  bravest  of  the  brave.  Who  so  intrepid  in  war  as 
Josue,  Gideon,  David,  and  the  valiant  Machabees,  who  shed  their  blood 
to  the  last  drop  for  their  country  and  their  religion.  In  the  new  dispen- 
sation, the  soldiers  of  Christ  have  accomplished  more  peaceful  victories, 
for  such  was  the  desire  of  their  Master,  the  Prince  of  Peace.  Yet,  when 
need  demanded  it,  a  sainted  Monarch  of  France,  King  Louis  IX.,  donned 
his  armor  against  the  infidels,  and  set  as  brilliant  an  example  of  courage 
and  generalship  to  warriors  as  he  did  of  humility  and  fervor  to  the  chil- 
dren of  the  Church. 

The  world,  prone  to  things  of  earth,  is  unwilling  to  try  the  combat  for 
eternal  life,  and  denounces  those  who  have  the  courage  to  attempt  it  as 
fools  and  cowards.  And  yet  we  are  assured  by  God  that  the  "  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  is  taken  by  violence,  and  the  violent  bear  it  away."  To  be 
violent  we  must  be  courageous,  and  such  were  the  Saints.  They  had 
the  courage  to  sell  their  possessions,  if  they  had  them,  like  Francis  of 
Assisi,  and  give  all  to  the  poor  for  the  sake  of  God — they  emptied  them- 


5Y6  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

selves  for  their  Master's  sake,  as  He  emptied  Himself  and  took  the  form 
of  a  slave  for  them.  They  left  their  palatial  halls,  their  high-born  asso- 
ciates, their  sumptuous  banquets,  for  rocks  and  caves,  and  howling  wilder- 
nesses, for  the  company  of  wild  beasts,  for  the  scanty  fare  of  the  desert, 
the  water  from  the  stream,  and  the  berries  from  the  bramble.  They  did 
it  for  God.  Ah !  that  was  courage,  while  cowardice  fled  to  the  great 
ones  of  the  world,  who  gratified  every  passion  of  nature,  and  satiated 
every  corrupt  appetite  of  the  flesh.  But  there  is  a  courage  still  greater 
than  this,  and  yet  which  is  despised  by  the  world  as  pusillanimity.  It  is 
the  courage  by  which  a  man  bows  submissively  to  insult  and  vituper- 
ation, fearless  of  the  taunts  and  reproaches  of  his  fellow-man  :  the  courage 
by  which  one  bears  the  yoke  of  Christ,  humbles  himself  under  the  chas- 
tening hand  of  God,  is  calumniated  and  repines  not — is  mocked,  and 
smiles  complacently  on  the  mocker.  Such,  too,  was  the  courage  of  the 
Saints ;  they  despised  the  taunts,  as  they  contemned  the  applause  of  the 
world.  They  followed  the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences,  careless  of 
the  world's  verdict,  knowing  it  was  the  Lord  who  should  judge  them. 
Behold  the  Apostles  of  Christ,  who,  when  they  were  scourged  before  a 
Council  of  the  Jews,  "  went  from  the  presence  of  the  Council  rejoicing, 
because  they  were  accounted  worthy  to  suffer  reproach  for  the  Name  of 
Jesus."  Saul  of  Tarsus  knew  not  this  magnanimity,  in  the  days  of  his 
worldly  greatness :  but  Paul,  the  converted,  becomes  the  humblest,  and 
thus  the  bravest  of  men.  "  We  are  made  a  spectacle,"  he  says  of  him- 
self, "  to  the  world,  to  angels,  and  to  men."  "  We  have  become  the 
refuse  of  this  world — the  offscouring  of  all  men  until  now."  This  is  a 
courage  of  which  the  world  can  form  no  conception,  and  which  it  there- 
fore pretends  to  despise ;  a  courage  which  springs  from  a  thorough  knowl- 
edge of  what  is  truly  great  and  noble,  which  has  triumphed  over  the  con- 
temptible meanness  of  corrupt  nature,  and  trampled  on  human  pride  by 
the  power  of  Him  whose  choicest  glories  are  the  glories  of  the  Cross. 

But  we  will  be  told  that  many  great  men,  and  even  women,  of  this 
world  have  shown  great  fortitude  in  the  hour  of  danger,  and  have  evinced 
a  degree  of  magnanimity  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  such  as 
demands  our  highest  admiration  and  esteem.  Be  it  so.  But  will  that 
detract  from  the  fortitude  and  magnanimity  of  the  Saints  ?  What  then 
of  the  countless  martyrs  who  have  shed  their  blood  for  Christ  in  every 
age,  in  every  clime ;  at  every  period  of  life,  whether  in  the  spring-time  of 
youth,  budding  with  hopes  of  a  long  and  happy  career  in  this  world,  or 
in  the  decrepitude  of  age,  "when  the  body  most  recoils  from  pain?  What 
of  the  tender  virgins,  armed  in  constancy  beyond  their  age  or  sex,  who, 
for  the  preservation  of  their  virtue,  have  been  racked  and  tortured,  flung 
to  be  devoured  by  wild  beasts,  cast  into  boiling  cauldrons,  or  drowned  in 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  5Y7 

the  rivers  by  whose  banks  they  learned  the  beauty  of  their  God,  for  whom 
they  became  victims?  What  of  the  youths  who  have  been  made  the 
sport  of  amphitheatres,  slain  by  the  sword,  or  torn  to  pieces  by  lions, 
because  they  would  not  bend  the  knee  to  Baal  ?  What  of  the  daring 
missionaries  who  travelled  through  regions  where  man  was  even  wilder 
than  the  brute,  that  they  might  bring  the  light  of  the  Gospel  to  "  nations, 
sitting  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of  death,"  and  who  have  succumbed, 
with  smiles  upon  their  cheeks,  to  the  cruel  death  which  they  knew  to  be 
inevitable?  Ah  !  talk  as  you  please  of  indomitable  courage,  but  look  for 
its  highest  manifestation  in  the  blood-red  pages  of  the  Christian  Martyrol- 
ogy.  There,  if  courage  be  a  test  of  greatness,  in  common  justice  award 
the  palm  to  the  Saints  of  God. 

We  now  come  to  the  third  and  last  test  of  human  greatness — the  per- 
formance of  wondrous  deeds  and  heroic  exploits  ;  and,  according  to  this 
standard,  I  contend  for  the  superiority  of  the  Saints  over  worldlings,  no 
matter  how  distinguished.  In  what  have  men  evinced  peculiar  greatness 
above  their  fellows  ?  History  supplies  us  with  the  names  of  great  law- 
givers, poets,  orators,  philosophers,  conquerors,  philanthropists,  and  civil- 
izers.  In  all  these  departments  the  Saints  have  shown  most  conspicuous. 
Where  are  your  Solons  and  Lycurguses,  and  their  ephemeral  statutes, 
when  compared  with  Moses  and  his  laws,  which  still  subsist  after  three 
thousand  years,  among  a  people  to  whom  they  were  given  to  an  unlim- 
ited duration,  and  whom,  by  some  mysterious  efificacv,  they  band  to- 
gether, though  scattered  over  the  nations  of  the  earth,  blended  with  their 
fellow-men,  but  marked  out  from  them  by  a  distinctive  and  unmistakable 
character?  Amongst  the  poets  of  ancient  or  modern  times,  who  has 
surpassed  the  sublimity  of  the  Psalmist — the  pathos  of  Jeremias — the 
terrific  majesty  of  Isaiah  ?  Other  poets  have  sipped  of  the  stream — those 
have  drunk  at  the  very  fountain  of  Divine  inspiration.  In  oratory,  who 
so  magnificent  as  Gregory  of  Nazianzen,  Basil,  Ambrose,  and  Chrysostom 
the  golden-mouthed  ?  Philosophers  of  Greece  and  Rome,  behold  your 
absurd  creeds,  and  theories,  and  maxims,  vanishing  like  pestilential 
vapors  before  the  morning  light  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  the 
maxims  of  the  Crucified.  Philosophers  of  modern  times,  you  would 
bring  men  down  to  earth,  to  hell ;  the  philosophy  of  the  Saints,  with 
unvarying  wisdom,  bears  men  up  to  heaven.  Conquerors,  what  are  your 
victories  compared  with  the  peaceful  triumphs  of  the  Saints?  You 
ravaged  countries  with  fire  and  sword,  and  added  new  dominions  to  your 
empires,  which,  in  their  turn,  were  desolated  and  appropriated  by  others. 
The  twelve  fishermen  of  Galilee,  naked  and  unarmed,  have  changed  the 
destinies  of  the  whole  world — have  formed  an  universal  society,  acknowl- 
edging the  same  Head,  obeying  the  same  laws,  working  with  a  unan- 


578  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

imity  clearly  supernatural,  defying  for  the  last  eighteen  hundred  years, 
and  sure  to  defy  forever,  the  powers  of  earth  and  hell,  enemies  from 
within,  and  enemies  from  without,  and  all  that  by  moral  force.  Oh, 
marvel  of  marvels  !  philanthropists,  amongst  your  beneficent  ranks  where 
can  be  found  one  Vincent  de  Paul  ?  Once  a  slave,  then  an  humble  priest 
in  a  Parisian  hospital,  poor  and  unknown — behold  the  wonders  he 
wrought.  He  filled  all  France  with  innumerable  asylums  for  the  sick  and 
poor ;  he  dispensed  millions  of  money  in  charity  all  over  the  world ;  he 
established  seminaries  for  education ;  he  controlled  the  councils  of  the 
kingdom  ;  he  established  the  Sisters  of  Charity — those  angels  of  love 
upon  earth ;  he  diffused  more  blessings  amonst  mankind,  and  established 
agencies  which  dispensed  them  still  more  abundantly,  than  any  thousand 
of  your  so-called  philanthropists  that  ever  lived  upon  the  earth.  The 
Saints,  in  fine,  have  been  the  only  great  civilizers  of  the  human  race ; 
they  banished  the  ignorance  and  superstition  of  paganism  ;  they  dethroned 
the  false  gods;  they  softened  manners;  they  preserved  and  diffused  the 
treasures  of  learning;  they  cultivated  the  arts  and  sciences;  they  founded 
universities ;  they  erected  temples  for  Divine  worship,  such  as  the  world 
had  never  seen.  Their  energies  permeated  into  the  humblest  hamlets, 
and  towns,  and  rural  districts;  they  have  taught  mankind  true  happiness, 
and  pointed  out  the  only  means  by  which  it  was  attainable ;  they  have 
met  in  return  only  with  contempt  and  ingratitude ;  but  they  have  gone 
on  rejoicing,  never  flinching,  preaching  "  in  season  and  out  of  season," 
ready  to  bear  all  for  Him  whom  they  serve,  provided  they  can  only  add 
new  voices  to  the  celestial  choir  to  sing  His  glories  for  eternity. 

Then,  whether  we  weigh  the  greatness  of  man  by  sublimity  of  concep- 
tion, by  indomitable  courage,  or  by  wondrous  deeds,  clearly  the  Saints 
of  God  alone  have  been  truly  great. 

Yes,  and  when  this  world  shall  have  been  destroyed  by  fire,  and  all 
its  glories  vanished,  then  will  that  greatness  be  made  manifest  to  all  man- 
kind. Then,  say  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  "  the  just  shall  stand  with  great 
constancy  against  those  who  afflicted  them."  And  when  the  sentence 
of  eternal  happiness  shall  have  been  passed,  the  wicked  shall  exclaim, 
"These  are  they  whom  we  held  some  time  in  derision,  and  for  a  parable 
of  reproach  we  fools  esteemed  their  life  madness,  and  their  end  without 
honor.  Behold  how  they  are  numbered  among  the  children  of  God,  and 
their  lot  is  among  the  Saints;  therefore  we  have  erred." 

My  brethren,  need  I  add  another  word  ?  Will  you  imitate  the  Saints 
of  God,  and  be  numbered  hereafter  among  His  children  ;  or  will  you  hold 
them  in  derision,  and  for  a  parable  of  reproach,  and  find,  too  late,  that 
you  have  erred  ?  You  are  not  expected  to  rival  the  Saints,  for  all  soldiers 
cannot  be  heroes  in  the  battle  for  eternal  life ;  but,  like  them,  you  can. 


FATHER  BUCKLEY. 


5Ya 


at  least,  have  your  views  fixed,  not  on  this  earth,  but  on  the  things  of 
heaven.  You  can  evince  at  least  that  courage  by  which  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil  are  conquered  and  put  to  flight.  Your  deeds  may 
not  be  of  the  highest  order  of  valor,  but  they  can  be  works  fruitful  of 
eternal  life.  Imitate  the  Saints  of  God,  even  at  a  distance,  and  you  will 
do  all  that  God  requires  at  your  hands.  Above  all  things,  learn,  like 
them,  to  despise  the  world,  to  rise  superior  to  its  false  maxims,  to  act 
according  to  the  safe  and  unerring  standard  of  conscience,  to  be  proud 
of  the  name  of  Christian,  never  to  disgrace  so  noble  a  dignity :  that  thus 
you  may  be  worthy  hereafter  to  join  the  white-robed  band  that  "  stand 
before  the  Throne  of  God,"  where  there  "  shall  be  no  more  hunger  nor 
thirst ;  neither  shall  the  sun  fall  on  them,  nor  any  heat,  for  the  Lamb, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Throne,  shall  rule  them,  and  shall  lead  them 
to  the  Fountains  of  the  Waters  of  Life,"  whereby  they  shall  be  refreshed 
and  inebriated  with  delight,  through  all  the  ages  of  eternity. 


SERMON  ON  THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST. 

What  is  man,  O  Lord,  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him,  or  the  son  of  man  that 
Thou  shouldst  visit  him  ?  " — Psalm  viii.  5. 

I  EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— We  are  assembled  here 
this  evening  for  the  purpose  of  participating  in  a  devotion 
most  pleasing  to  God,  and  most  beneficial  to  our  own  souls. 
We  are  met,  with  Him  in  our  midst,  as  truly  as  He  was  in  the 
midst  of  His  Apostles  at  His  Last  Supper,  to  adore,  and  praise,  and  re- 
turn Him  thanks  for  the  institution  of  a  Sacrament  which,  of  all  others, 
nay,  which,  before  all  His  works,  proclaims  His  infinite  love  for  us.  We 
are  met  to  atone,  by  our  heartfelt  homage,  for  the  insults  offered  to  Him 
in  this  most  adorable  Sacrament,  either  by  ourselves  or  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  to  declare  to  Him  our  fixed  resolution  henceforward  to 
return  love  for  love,  and  to  die  rather  than  renew  one  pang  of  that 
Sacred  Heart,  which  has  already  endured  so  much  for  sinful,  ungrateful 
man. 

My  brethren,  it  is  much,  very  much  to  be  deplored,  that  we  all  love 
God  so  little,  and  that,  perhaps,  there  are  some  of  us  who  do  not  love 
Him  at  all.  We  generally  love  those  who  love  us;  it  is  an  instinct  of 
our  nature ;  but,  although  God's  love  for  us  is  boundless,  yet  we  offend 
Him  much  more  than  we  offend  even  the  humblest  of  His  creatures. 
There  is  a  sort  of  wantonness  in  our  insults  to  God,  which  is  not  found 
in  our  insults  to  man.  Few  men  insult  others  without  some  provocation, 
without,  at  least,  some  show  of  justification;  and  if  one  man  knows  that 
another  loves  him,  he  will  overlook  a  thousand  provocations  rather  than 
their  friendship  should  be  ruptured  :  but,  alas !  although  God  gives  us  no 
provocation,  although  He  loves  us  as  man  can  never  love  his  fellow-man, 
yet,  even  the  best  of  us,  at  times,  offend  Him,  almost  without  temptation, 
through  sheer  wantonness — with  an  utter  carelessness  as  to  whether  we 
offend  Him  or  not ;  we  forget  His  love  for  us,  for  a  petty,  trifling  pleasure, 
for  a  wounded  feeling,  for  a  childish  pride,  for  the  possession  of  the 
merest  bauble  ;  we  offer  to  His  Eternal,  adorable  Majesty  an  insult  which 
would  be  sufficient  to  bring  Jesus  again  from  heaven,  and  to  enact  once 
more  the  tragic  horrors  of  Calvary !  Oh !  can  it  be  possible  that  we 
understand  how  God  loves  us,  when  we  offend  Him  so  ?  Can  our  ingrati- 
(580) 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  581 

tude  be  so  black  that  we  wantonly  wring  with  sorrow  that  heart  which, 
from  the  very  dawn  of  eternity,  has  throbbed  with  tenderest  love  for  us? 
My  brethren,  it  cannot  be !  We  must  not  comprehend  God's  love  for 
us,  else  we  would  manifest  toward  Him  that  respect  which  we  do  not 
deny  to  the  humblest  of  His  creatures — the  respect  which  prompts  us  to 
abstain  from  insulting  them,  without,  at  least,  some  pretext  or  shadow  of 
provocation. 

Let  us,  therefore,  now,  at  least,  consider  well  the  great,  the  profound 
love  of  God  for  us,  only  as  manifested  in  the  institution  of  the  adorable 
Sacrament  of  the  Altar,  that  we  may  form  a  just  conception  of  the  injury  we 
have  done  Him  by  our  former  insults,  and  that  we  may  resolve,  at  length, 
never,  never  more  to  offend  Him,  but  to  give  Him,  at  least,  a  small 
tribute  of  our  love,  in  return  for  the  unbounded  love  which  He  has  here 
manifested  toward  us. 

And,  indeed,  in  considering  the  love  of  our  Divine  Redeemer,  as 
shown  to  us  in  this  Sacrament,  it  is  so  vast,  so  profound,  so  much  beyond 
the  ken  of  man,  that  in  the  contemplation  of  it  we  become  lost  in  amaze- 
ment, and  utterly  fail  to  comprehend  it. 

Whether  we  consider  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  established, 
the  nature  of  the  boon,  or  the  immense  disparity  that  exists  between  the 
Giver  and  receiver,  we  are  equally  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  gift,  and  the  love  of  the  Great  Being  who  has  bestowed  it. 
But  let  us  do  the  best  we  can ;  if  we  cannot  understand  it  all,  let  us  con- 
ceive it  as  far  as  our  capacity  admits.  Let  us  satisfy  ourselves  that  God's 
love  for  us  has  no  bounds,  that  the  perception  of  it  fills  our  minds  to 
overflowing,  and  that  it  is  so  vast  that  God  Himself  alone  can  weigh  it  in 
the  infinitude  of  His  comprehension. 

To  understand  it  well,  it  is  necessary  that  we  should  proceed  to  the 
supper-room  at  Jerusalem,  and  there  behold  our  Divine  Redeemer  per- 
forming this  great,  this  adorable  mystery  of  His  love  for  man.  "  Before 
the  festival  day  of  the  Pasch,"  says  St.  John,  "Jesus  knowing  that  His 
hour  was  come  that  He  should  pass  out  of  this  world  to  the  Father, 
having  loved  His  own  who  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  unto  the 
end."  He  is,  therefore,  about  to  manifest  His  love  in  some  very  striking 
manner  to  His  Apostles,  and  through  them  to  all  mankind.  It  is  the 
night,  of  all  others,  when  the  tenderness  of  His  whole  nature,  human  and 
Divine,  was  to  be  evoked,  when,  like  the  boundless  ocean  that  surrounds 
the  earth,  it  was  to  flow  into  every  channel  of  universal  humanity,  with- 
out diminishing  its  own  vast  immensity.  It  was  the  night  when  He  was 
to  take  a  last  farewell  of  those  twelve  chosen  loved  ones  of  His  heart ; 
when  the  pangs  of  anticipated  parting  quickened  into  a  livelier  Hfe  that 
love  which   He  never  ceased  to  cherish  for  them  ;  it  was  the  night  when 


582  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

one  might  suppose  every  sensation  of  His  mind  to  be  absorbed  with  the 
contemplation  of  the  frightful  agonies  through  which  He  was  to  pass — 
the  night  of  His  Passion  ;  the  night  when  He  was  to  feel  the  lonely  hor- 
rors of  Gethsemani  when  the  agony  of  His  soul  was  to  force  the  blood 
from  every  pore  of  His  Body,  in  the  garden  of  Olives ;  when  the  three 
chosen  companions  of  His  night-journey,  oblivious  of  His  woes,  were  to 
abandon  Him  in  the  unconsciousness  of  slumber ;  when  one  of  the  chosen 
twelve  was  to  betray  Him  to  the  enemy ;  when  He  was  to  be  buffeted 
and  spat  upon  in  Caiphas'  Hall  ;  when  all  the  Apostles  were  to  fly  from 
Him  in  fear  and  shame ;  when  the  Shepherd  was  to  be  struck,  and  the 
sheep  to  be  dispersed ;  when  Peter,  the  Prince  of  the  Apostles,  was  to 
swear  that  he  never  knew  Him.  Oh  !  such  was  the  occasion,  of  all  others, 
selected  for  the  institution  of  this,  the  richest,  the  most  exalted,  the  most 
enduring  mystery  of  Jesus'  love  for  man ! 

Behold  Him  thus,  seated  in  the  midst  of  His  chosen  twelve — it  is  His 
last  meeting  with  them  before  His  death.  He  is  about  to  deliver  to  them 
a  long  discourse,  which  is  related  to  us  in  full  by  the  Evangelist  St.  John, 
and  which,  for  tenderness  and  love,  surpasses  all  the  discourses  ever  de- 
livered even  by  the  God  of  Love.  He  is  about  to  make  His  last  will  and 
testament,  and  the  fishermen  of  Galilee  are  to  be  not  only  the  inheritors, 
but  the  executors  of  all  the  treasures  of  His  love.  He  is  about  to  leave 
them  a  legacy — a  legacy  worthy  of  a  testator  whose  power,  and  goodness, 
and  love,  are  infinite  and  eternal — a  legacy  worthy  of  Him  of  whom  it 
was  said,  that  "  His  delights  were  to  be  with  the  children  of  men  " — who 
was  to  remain  with  us  all  days,  even  to  the  consummation  of  the  world 
— "  who,  having  loved  His  own,  who  were  in  the  world,  loved  them  even 
unto  the  end."  And  what  was  this  legacy  to  be  ?  Was  He  to  send  down 
from  the  heights  of  heaven  one  of  those  bright  archangels  who  worship 
before  His  Eternal  Throne,  to  bless  the  earth  by  his  perpetual  presence, 
and  cheer  poor  fallen  man  with  the  sight  of  a  glory  himself  might  attain? 
This  would  indeed  be  an  admirable  instance  of  His  love.  But  the  gift 
was  to  be  something  greater  still.  Was  He  to  come  and  dwell  in  spirit^ 
in  some  manner  more  marked  than  His  omnipotence  allows,  enshrined  in 
some  sanctuary,  whither  His  votaries  might  flock  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  to  adore  within  a  short  distance  of  the  Deity  Himself?  Oh  f 
much  more  than  this.  But  let  us  hear  His  own  Divine  words.  Let 
us  fancy  that  we  are  seated  round  that  supper-table,  and  that  these  words 
are  addressed  to  us,  as  they  were  addressed  to  the  Apostles:  "And 
whilst  they  were  at  supper,  Jesus  took  bread,  and  blest,  and  brake,  and 
gave  to  His  disciples,  saying — Take  ye  and  eat,  this  is  my  body ;  and, 
taking  the  chalice  He  gave  thanks,  and  gave  to  them,  saying — Drink  ye 
all  of  this,  for  this  is  my  blood  of  the  new  testament,  which  shall  be 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  583 

shed  for  many  unto  the  remission  of  sins."  Ah !  here  is  the  great  secret 
of  Jesus'  love.  He  is  God,  and  His  gifts  must  be  Godlike.  All  things 
outside  God  are  small — infinitely  small  in  comparison  to  Him.  His  last 
legacy  must  be  nothing  insignificant — nothing  unworthy  of  a  God. 
What  shall  He  give,  then,  worthy  of  a  God,  unless  He  give  Himself? 
Yes,  Himself  it  must  be.  "  Take  ye  and  eat,  this  is  my  body  ;  drink  ye 
all  of  this,  for  this  is  my  blood."  Oh !  Lord,  is  it  not  enough  that  for 
the  love  of  us  Thy  adorable  blood  has  empurpled  the  pillars  in  the  Hall 
of  Pilate— that  it  is  destined  to  bedew  the  grass  in  the  Garden  of  Geth- 
semani — that  it  must  ebb  to  the  last  drop  from  the  gaping  wounds  upon 
the  cruel  cross  on  Calvary?  Is  that  not  enough?  but  must  Thou  also 
decree  that  the  children  of  men,  sinners  though  they  be,  shall  possess 
Thy  body  and  Thy  blood  forever,  as  the  food  and  nourishment  of  their 
souls?  So  it  is,  my  brethren  ;  and  oh!  what  tongue  can  describe,  what 
language  can  paint,  the  excess  of  our  Blessed  Saviour's  love  in  the  insti- 
tution of  this  most  adorable  mystery.  So  great  is  that  love,  that  we 
seek  but  in  vain  to  conceive  it  in  thought,  much  less  to  describe  it  in 
words.  The  "liveliest  imagination  cannot  represent  it  to  itself,  and  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  magnitude  we  can  only  give  way  to  the  feelings  of 
wonder  and  amazement,  which  language  altogether  fails  to  depict. 

If  St.  Paul,  inspired  as  he  was,  could  only  describe  the  glory  of  heaven 
by  saying  that  it  was  such  as  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath 
it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive,"  how  can  we,  weak  mortals, 
describe  the  love  of  God  for  man,  as  here  evinced,  better  than  by  borrow- 
ing the  language  of  the  Apostle?  For  of  that  love  it  may  indeed  be 
said,  that  it  is  such  as  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath  it  en- 
tered into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  For,  as  the  great  St.  Augustine 
tells  us,  God  has  here  exhausted  His  beneficence.  All-powerful  as  He  is. 
He  could  give  us  no  more  than  He  does  when  He  gives  us  Himself:  all 
rich  as  He  is,  what  more  valuable,  what  richer  gift  could  He  confer  even 
on  the  most  exalted  of  His  creatures  than  Himself?  By  the  fall  of  our 
first  parents,  my  brethren,  the  most  disastrous  consequences  were  entailed 
on  the  human  race — by  that  fatal  sin  we  lost  the  vigor  of  our  understand- 
ings, and  the  moral  life  of  our  souls.  By  eating  of  the  tree  of  knowledge 
of  good  and  evil,  our  first  parents  lost  what  they  could  never  regain ;  their 
intellects  were  blinded — they  became  a  prey  to  uncertainty  and  doubt, 
and  this  curse  was  entailed  upon  their  posterity  to  the  end  of  time.  So 
much  did  they  lose  by  partaking  of  the  tree  of  knowledge.  In  punish- 
ment of  their  fall,  they  were  driven  away  from  that  other  tree  which 
bloomed  in  the  midst  of  Paradise,  the  tree  of  life,  by  partaking  of  which, 
they  and  we  were  to  acquire  perpetual  virtue  and  a  glorious  immortality. 
This  twofold  want  our  blessed  Saviour  came  on  earth  to  remedy.    A  new 


684  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

tree  of  knowledge  He  planted  on  the  top  of  mountains  to  which  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  might  recur  in  their  difficulties  and  doubts — beneath 
whose  shadow  they  might  repose,  by  whose  fruits  they  might  be  fed,  by 
virtue  whereof  they  might  acquire  the  knowledge  of  Eternal  Truth.  That 
tree  of  knowledge  is  His  Church ;  beside  it  He  planted  the  new  tree  of 
life,  the  adorable  Sacrament  of  His  own  Body  and  Blood,  by  partaking  of 
which  man's  moral  vitality  is  restored ;  by  which  virtue  is  augmented, 
grace  infused,  faith  strengthened,  hope  cherished,  and  charity  inflamed ; 
by  which  the  soul  is  nourished  and  fed,  lifted  up  from  its  prostrations, 
comforted,  consoled,  admitted  to  the  friendship  of  God,  and  conducted 
to  eternal  life.  In  the  old  law,  when  the  people  partook  of  the  flesh  of 
the  victims  offered  to  God,  they  congratulated  themselves  that  thus  they 
were  committed  to  a  close  communion  with  the  Deity  Himself — that 
they,  as  it  were,  sat  at  one  table  with  Him  and  shared  His  hospitality ; 
but  in  the  new  law  what  a  glorious  realization  invests  that  fancy  of  the 
old  ;  for,  now  we  partake  of  a  Victim  which  not  only  admits  us  to  a  com- 
munion with  the  Deity,  but  unites  and  incorporates  us  with  God  ;  makes  us 
one  with  Him,  and  Him  with  us;  makes  us,  as  St.  Peter  says,  "partakers 
of  the  Divine  nature  ";  for,  by  eating  this  bread,  God  abides  in  us  and 
we  in  Him — not  for  a  time,  but  for  eternity;  for,  says  Christ,  "Your 
fathers  did  eat  manna  in  the  desert,  and  are  dead  :  he  who  eats  this  bread 
shall  live  forever." 

In  Paradise  God  appeared  visibly  to  our  first  parents,  and  walked  with 
them  through  that  blessed  region  of  delights.  Oh  !  what  an  inestimable 
favor  was  that.  But  to  us  God  not  only  appears  in  person,  not  only  keeps 
our  company,  but  enters  into  our  very  hearts,  where  He  reposes  as  on  a 
throne,  fills  the  soul  with  sweetest  joy  and  consolation,  inspires  holy 
thoughts  that  elevate  us  above  this  sinful  earth,  and  gives  us  even  here 
below  a  view  into  that  heaven  of  endless,  boundless  joy  which  He  has  pre- 
pared for  those  who  love  Him.  Oh!  you  who  often  approach  the  Holy 
Table  with  sentiments  of  piety  and  love,  tell  me,  could  all  the  real  or  even 
imaginary  pleasures  of  the  world  aff^ord  you  any  joy  like  the  joy  of  receiv- 
ing yovr  Lord  ?  And  oh  !  you  who  have  fallen  away  from  innocence, 
who  have  "  forsaken  the  right  ways  and  gone  into  the  crooked  ways,"  if 
ever  your  minds,  wearied  with  the  distractions  and  cares  of  sin  and  world- 
liness,  wander  back  to  the  days  of  vanished  youth  and  forsaken  virtue, 
tell  me,  oh !  tell  me,  have  you  ever  experienced  any  pleasure  so  pure,  so 
real,  so  entrancing  as  that  which  you  felt  on  those  happy  mornings  when 
in  the  spring-time  of  your  youth,  and  the  fervor  of  your  zeal,  you  received 
at  the  altar  the  Body  of  your  Lord  ?  Does  not  the  memory  of  those 
happy  days  come  back  upon  your  sin-enslaved  souls,  as  the  dreams  of  his 
lost  native  land  come  back  at  night  upon  the  exile,  unfountaining  the 


FATHER  BUCKLE-Y.  585 

bitter  tears  of  regretful  sorrow,  and  awakening  feelings  akin  to  those 
which  touched  the  hearts  of  the  captive  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  when,  in 
the  gloom  of  their  bondage,  by  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  they  sat,  and  wept, 
and  remembered  the  enchanting  songs  of  Sion  ?  And,  oh  !  on  that  night 
of  sorrows  when  our  Blessed  Saviour  invented  this  mystery  of  love.  He 
thought,  no  doubt,  of  our  forlorn  condition  in  this  miserable  world,  this 
.  sad,  sad  scene  of  our  pilgrimage  to  the  other ;  He  knew  how  much  we 
needed  a  guide,  a  consoler,  and  a  friend  ;  and  such  was  His  love  for  us 
that  He  resolved  that  guide,  consoler,  and  friend  should  be  no  other  than 
Himself,  He  thought  of  the  weary  days  of  our  lonely  exile;  how,  wan- 
dering through  this  valley  of  tears,  our  souls  should  sigh  with  their  heaven- 
born  instinct  for  the  good  things  of  Sion  ;  how,  sick  and  faint,  we  should 
totter  on  the  way  unless  refreshed  with  the  manna  of  life,  not  with  "  the 
food  that  perisheth  ";  and  thus  He  bequeathed  to  us  that  bread  which 
angels  dare  not  taste,  to  strengthen  us  in  our  journey  to  the  land  where 
we  expect — let  us  hope  not  in  vain — to  be  filled  for  eternity  with  the 
plenty  of  His  Father's  House. 

And,  can  it  be  possible,  my  brethren,  that  any  human  being,  any 
Christian,  any  one  so  favored  by  God  as  to  be  the  inheritor  of  such  deep, 
such  inexhaustible  love,  could  repay  that  love  by  insulting  the  very  God 
who  has  so  marvellously  enriched  him  ?  Can  it  be  possible  that  any 
one  would  wantonly  receive  into  a  bosom  defiled  with  mortal  sin  the 
gracious  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  ?  Can  it  be  possible  that  any  one  of 
us  has  ever  been  guilty  of  so  black  a  crime  ?  Oh  !  let  us  hope  that  such 
is  not  the  case ;  but  should  it  be  so,  let  us  reflect  on  the  baseness  of  our 
ingratitude,  on  the  atrocity  of  the  sacrilege  we  have  committed.  Let  us 
tremble  at  the  fate  of  Judas,  who  received  the  body  of  his  Lord  while  his 
soul  rankled  with  the  guilt  of  treason ;  let  us  weigh  well  the  terrible 
words  of  St.  Paul,  "  Whosoever  shall  eat  this  bread,  or  drink  the  chalice 
of  the  Lord  unworthily,  shall  be  guilty  of  the  body  and  blood  of  the 
Lord  ":  that  is,  he  shall  be  guilty  of  Deicide,  of  putting  God  to  death ; 
he  shall  repeat  the  crime  of  Calvary ;  nay,  his  guilt  shall  be  far  blacker 
and  more  hideous  than  the  guilt  of  the  Jews  who  crucified  our  Lord  ;  for, 
as  we  are  assured  by  St.  Paul,  if  the  Jews  had  known  the  Lord  of  Glory, 
they  would,  not  have  crucified  Him.  They  imagined  that  Jesus  was  only 
the  Son  of  Joseph  and  Mary;  that  He  was  a  seducer  of  the  people,  and 
an  enemy  to  the  law  of  Moses.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  unworthy  com- 
municant ;  he  believes  that  Jesus  is  the  Messiah — he  beholds  Him  with 
the  eyes  of  faith  really  present  on  our  altars — he  acknowledges  Him  to  be 
the  Lord  of  Glory,  the  Son  of  the  Most  High,  the  King  of  kings,  the 
Lord  of  lords  ; .  and  yet,  with  a  full  consciousness  of  his  own  crimes,  he 
dares  to  insult  the  Majesty  of  God,  and  condemns  Him  to  a  far  more  dis- 


586  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

graceful  death  in  his  breast  than  that  which  He  endured  upon  the 
cross. 

The  executioners  who  put  our  Lord  to  death  were  called  the  ministers 
of  God's  justice ;  they  were  the  instruments  by  which  our  Lord  effected 
His  resolution  of  offering  Himself  in  sacrifice  to  His  Eternal  Father — a  reso- 
lution He  formed  at  the  first  moment  of  His  conception.  They  seemed 
to  take  part  with  God  in  carrying  out  the  work  of  our  redemption ;  they 
lifted  their  hands  against  the  Holy  One,  when  every  hand  was  to  be 
lifted  against  Him.  But  the  unworthy  communicant  accomplishes  no 
designs  of  the  Almighty.  On  the  contrary,  he  dishonors  the  Son,  while 
the  Father  is  glorifying  Him.  No  one  unites  with  Him  in  the  sacrifice — 
he  is  not  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God ;  he  is  himself  the  plotter, 
the  executioner;  heaven  and  earth  look  with  horror  on  his  crime,  and  the 
whole  guilt  of  the  innocent  blood  of  the  Lamb  falls  on  him  alone. 

We  do  not  find,  my  brethren,  that  any  of  those  of  whom  it  is  recorded 
in  the  Gospel  that  they  received  any  special  mark  of  our  Blessed  Saviour's 
regard,  had  any  hand,  act,  or  part  in  His  execution.  From  that  tragic 
scene  we  miss  the  lame  whom  He  healed,  the  blind  whom  He  restored  to 
sight,  the  leper  whom  He  cleansed,  the  dead  whom  He  brought  back  to 
life.  Alas !  what  a  contrast  does  their  absence  from  Calvary  afford  to  the 
black  ingratitude  of  the  unworthy  communicant !  He  was  blind,  but  he 
was  restored  to  sight — he  was  struck  with  the  leprosy  of  sin,  but  he  was 
cleansed  by  the  beneficent  voice  of  Jesus — he  was  dead,  but  Jesus  restored 
him  to  life.  Had  this  crime  been  committed  by  a  pagan  or  an  infidel, 
by  one  whose  soul  never  basked  in  the  sunshine  of  the  Gospel-light — 
had  never  been  enriched  with  the  thousand  graces  imparted  only  to  the 
Christian,  his  audacity  would  not  excite  our  astonishment  so  much ;  but 
that  a  child  of  God,  an  heir  of  heaven,  a  friend,  a  brother,  should  lift 
his  consecrated  hand  to  fling  the  Lord  from  His  throne  of  glory!  oh! 
this  is  ingratitude  indeed !  Our  Lord  Himself,  mild  and  gentle,  and  for- 
giving as  He  is,  cannot  restrain  His  indignation  with  the  perpetrator  of 
such  treason  :  "  If  my  enemy,"  says  He,  "  if  my  enemy  had  insulted  me, 
I  would  verily  have  borne  with  it,  but  thou,  the  man  of  my  peace,  my 
guide,  my  familiar,  who  didst  walk  with  me  in  concert  in  the  house  of 
God."  Truly,  my  brethren,  the  magnitude  of  the  crime  is  beyond  de- 
scription. The  very  executioners  who  nailed  our  Blessed  Saviour  to  the 
cross  seemed  somewhat  excusable  for  their  ignorance.  For  this  reason 
the  gentle  Victim  of  their  fury  pleads  with  His  Heavenly  Father  for 
their  forgiveness :  "  Father,"  He  says,  "  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do."  But  He  cannot  witness  the  profanations  of  His  altar  by 
those  who  are  not  ignorant,  without  denouncing  the  heinousness  of  their 
guilt,  and  proclaiming  to  them  the  eternal  vengeance  which  awaits  it. 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  587 

"  Whosoever  shall  eat  this  bread,  or  drink  the  chalice  of  the  Lord  un- 
worthily, shall  be  guilty  of  the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord.  But  let  a 
man  prove  himself,  and  so  let  him  eat  that  bread  and  drink  of  the 
chalice ;  for  he  that  eateth  and  drinketh  unworthily,  eateth  and  drinketh 
judgment  to  himself,  not  discerning  the  body  of  the  Lord." 

Oh !  then,  my  brethren,  let  me  entreat  of  you  this  night,  if  ever  you 
have  been  guilty  of  the  monstrous  crime  of  receiving  your  Lord  un- 
worthily, to  ask  His  pardon  before  you  leave  His  blessed  presence  on  the 
altar.  His  love  for  you  hath  no  end,  and  His  mercy  endureth  forever.  It 
is  possible,  nay,  it  is  more  than  probable,  that  you  have  never  been  guilty 
of  such  wickedness  ;  in  that  case,  for  yourselves  you  need  no  pardon  ;  but 
oh !  reflect  how  many  unhappy  Christians  throughout  the  world  have 
committed,  and  still  commit  this  frightful  iniquity ;  out  of  the  superabun- 
dance of  your  love,  make  some  reparation,  some  atonement,  to  the  offended 
love  of  your  Divine  Redeemer.  He  stands  there  before  you — so  near, 
that  you  may  behold  and  converse  with  Him  like  friends — so  generous, 
that  you  may  ask  of  Him  what  you  please,  and  be  sure  to  obtain  it ;  so 
loving  and  tender  that  our  bosoms  may  melt  in  the  contemplation  of  His 
sweetness;  and  yet  so  exalted,  so  glorious,  so  powerful,  that  we  may 
exhaust  the  language  of  praise  and  adoration,  and  still  be  at  a  loss  for 
epithets  worthy  of  His  greatness !  Nay,  no  longer  seeking  to  dazzle  us 
by  His  glory  or  affright  us  by  His  power,  we  behold  Him  divested  of 
all  the  splendor,  by  which  He  thrills  the  heavens  with  delight.  Let 
us  approach  Him  with  that  spirit  of  faith  and  love,  and  adoration  that 
filled  the  hearts  of  the  Eastern  Kings,  when  they  knelt  and  poured  their 
fragrant  offerings  in  lavish  profusion  at  His  feet,  as  He  lay  a  trembling 
infant,  in  the  cold,  dark  stable  of  Bethlehem.  Let  us  fling  ourselves  be- 
fore Him,  as  Magdalen  did,  in  the  supper-room  of  Jerusalem,  conscious 
of  His  boundless  love.  Whither  shall  we  recur  for  sympathy  or  for  sup- 
port, if  not  to  Him  who  has  declared  Himself  the  sweet,  the  tender  physi- 
cian of  our  souls  ?  "  Come,"  He  says,  "  to  me,  all  you  who  labor  and  are 
heavy  burthened,  and  I  will  refresh  you." 

Oh  !  Jesus,  God  of  love,  "  whose  delight  it  is  to  be  with  the  children 
of  men,"  grant  us  the  grace  to  love  Thee  with  all  our  hearts ;  grant  us 
henceforward  to  receive  Thee  into  our  bosoms  with  all  the  love  Thy  love 
deserves ;  that  having  tasted  on  earth  and  seen,  how  sweet  is  the  Lord, 
we  may  be  worthy  to  enjoy,  in  the  kingdom  of  Thy  glory,  the  inex- 
haustible sweetness  of  the  everlasting  banquet  of  Thy  love.     Amen. 


SERMON   ON  THE  WORD   OF  GOD. 

'  Be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving  your  own  selves.  For  if 
a  man  be  a  hearer  of  the  word,  and  not  a  doer,  he  shall  be  compared  to  a  man 
beholding  his  own  countenance  in  a  glass.  For  he  beheld  himself  and  went 
his  way,  and  presently  forgot  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  But  he  that  looketh 
into  the  perfect  law  of  liberty,  and  hath  continued  therein,  not  becoming  a  for- 
getful hearer,  but  a  doer  of  the  work,  this  man  shall  be  blessed  in  his  deed :  and 
■  if  any  man  think  himself  religious,  not  bridling  his  tongue,  but  deceiving  his 
own  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain.  Religion  clean  and  undefiled  before  God 
and  the  Father  is  this :  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  tribula- 
tions, and  to  keep  one's  self  unspotted  from  this  world."--CATHOLiC  Epistle 
OF  St.  James,  i.  22,  etc. 

[jEARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN:— On  that  dreadful  day, 
when  we  shall  all  appear  before  the  tribunal  of  our  Eternal 
Judge,  we  must  render  to  Him  a  strict  account,  not  only- 
how  often  we  have  heard  the  Word  of  God  preached  to  us, 
but  how  we  have  heard  it,  whether  with  cold  indifference,  or  with  zeal- 
ous attention — whether  we  have  done  all  the  good  which  that  Word  in- 
culcates, or  avoided  all  the  evil  which  that  Word  denounces.  "We  must 
be,"  in  the  language  of  the  Apostle,  "  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers 
only,"  deceiving  ourselves. 

The  Word  of  God  points  out  to  us  the  road  to  our  everlasting  home. 
With  our  souls  overshadowed  by  the  heavy  clouds  of  sin,  we  wander 
darkly,  groping  through  this  valley  of  tears,  unconscious  whither  we  go ; 
but  the  Word  of  God,  like  some  bright  star  in  the  firmament,  lights  the 
path  before  us ;  and  if  we  lose  its  heavenly  ray  we  are  ourselves  lost  in 
the  gloom,  and  become  a  prey  to  the  roaring  lion,  who  "  goes  about  seek- 
ing whom  he  may  devour."  We  are  cast  like  some  frail  bark  on  the 
ocean  of  life,  journeying  on  toward  the  wished-for  haven  of  a  happy 
eternity.  We  are  tossed  about  by  the  billows  of  temptation,  and  driven 
back  by  the  tempests  of  passion.  The  Word  of  God,  like  some  benign 
beacon,  shines  out  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  stretching  out  before  us, 
by  its  reflection  on  the  waters,  a  pathway  of  calm  and  silvery  light,  while 
all  is  dark  around.  If  we  turn  away  from  that  opening  light,  and  seek 
some  other  course,  alas !  what  fate  can  we  expect  but  hopeless  wandering, 
shipwreck,  misery,  and  death  ?  Each  one  of  us  is  like  a  sick  man  laid 
(588) 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  589 

upon  his  bed,  writhing  in  the  torture  and  agony  brought  upon  him  by 
that  direful  disease  called  sin.  The  minister  of  God,  skilled  in  His  Holy 
Word,  stands  by  as  a  tender  physician  to  administer  the  healing  draught 
— to  apply  the  soothing  balsam.  If  we  despise  His  counsel — if  we  reject 
His  medicine,  must  we  be  surprised  if  we  suffer  all  the  agonies  of  terror 
and  remorse,  and  die  that  eternal  death  from  which  God's  Holy  Word 
alone  can  save  us? 

And  yet,  my  brethren,  how  many  of  us  treat  the  Word  of  God  with 
this  unhappy  indifference.  We  hear  it  often  preached,  and  we  close  our 
ears  to  its  most  sweet  sounds.  We  see  it  shining  out  before  us,  and  yet  we 
shut  our  eyes,  and  turn  our  backs  upon  its  cheering  rays.  We  know  how 
effectually  it  can  cure  the  infirmities  of  our  souls,  and  yet  we  shun  the 
soothing  and  the  consolation  which  it  imparts.  We  are  like  the  man 
alluded  to  by  the  Apostle,  "  who  beholds  his  own  countenance  in  a  glass, 
and  going  his  way,  presently  forgets  what  manner  of  man  he  is."  Re- 
member the  dreadful  doom  that  God  denounces  upon  those  who  reject 
and  despise  His  Holy  Word:  "You  have  despised  my  counsel,"  He 
says,  "  and  neglected  my  reprehensions.  I  also  will  laugh  in  your  destruc- 
tion, and  will  mock  you  when  that  will  come  to  you  which  you  feared. 
When  sudden  calamity  shall  fall  on  you,  and  destruction,  as  a  tempest, 
shall  be  at  hand,  when  tribulations  and  distress  shall  come  on  you,  then 
shall  they  call  upon  me,  and  I  will  not  hear  ;  they  shall  rise  in  the  morning, 
and  shall  not  find  me,  because  they  have  hated  instruction,  and  have  not 
received  the  fear  of  the  Lord."  My  brethren,  in  order  that  we  may  not 
receive  this  punishment  at  the  hands  of  God,  but  rather  that  we  may 
deserve  the  blessing  promised  to  those  who  "  hear  the  Word  of  God,  and 
keep  it,"  listen,  I  pray  you,  while  I  show  you  the  sublime  effects  which 
the  Word  of  God  is  capable  of  producing,  while  I  explain  the  reasons  why 
those  effects  are  not  invariably  produced,  and  while  I  point  out  the  dis- 
position one  should  have,  in  order  that  those  effects  may,  for  the  future, 
be  produced  in  our  souls. 

And  first,  with  regard  to  the  sublime  efficacy  of  God's  Holy  Word, 
consider  the  wonderful  effects  produced  by  it  through  the  whole  world, 
at  the  first  dawn  of  Christianity.  I  will  not  speak  of  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  it  fired  the  multitudes  of  Judea,  who  heard  it  fall  from  the  Divine 
lips  of  Jesus  Himself.  I  will  not  describe  to  you  how  He  was  followed 
by  thousands  of  men,  forgetful  of  their  homes,  their  occupations,  and 
their  physical  wants,  that  they  might  hear  those  Divine  words  that  fell 
softly  and  vivifyingly,  as  the  dews  of  heaven,  from  His  sacred  lips.  But 
what  were  the  effects  produced  by  it,  when  twelve  illiterate  fishermen 
preached  it  all  over  the  world?  When  "their  sound,"  as  the  Psalmist 
sings,  "went  forth  into  all  the  earth,  and  their  words  unto  the  ends  of 


590  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  world."  Suddenly  the  darkness  of  Gentile  ignorance  and  superstition 
was  dispersed — the  Sages  and  Philosophers  of  Greece  and  Rome,  skilled 
in  all  the  learning  of  the  ancients,  were  confounded  and  ashamed ;  their 
sophisms  were  laid  bare — their  eloquence  was  outrivalled — the  Truth 
burst,  at  length,  upon  their  view — their  idols  tumble  in  the  dust — their 
gods,  theretofore  the  recipients  of  divine  adoration,  are  now  discovered 
to  be  the  pure  creations  of  fancy ;  the  "  Unknown  God  "  becomes  the 
real  claimant  for  their  homage  and  adoration  ;  thousands  are  converted  ; 
from  those  altars  whence  ascended  the  smoke  of  profane  sacrifices  to  Ju- 
piter or  Mars,  now  ascends  the  grateful  incense  of  prayer  to  the  throne 
of  the  Most  High  ;  and  where  the  blood  of  sheep  and  oxen  flowed  in  fruit- 
less homage  to  deities  who  had  no  existence,  there  was  offered  up  the 
pure  sacrifice  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus,  the  crucified,  in  propitia- 
tion for  the  sins  of  men.  But,  not  only  was  the  philosophy  of  the  Pagans 
humbled  and  confuted  by  the  Word  of  God,  but  all  the  political  power  of 
the  princes  and  kings,  by  which  it  was  sustained  throughout  the  world, 
yielded  to  its  influence,  and  disappeared  before  it.  The  process  was  slow, 
but  it  was  sure.  Rome  was  the  most  powerful  city  in  the  world,  and 
nothing  could  equal  the  power  and  majesty  of  the  Caesars.  They  were, 
so  to  speak,  the  monarchs  of  the  universe.  We  all  know  how  they  perse- 
cuted the  Word  of  God,  but  we  know  how  persistently  the  Word  was 
preached,  notwithstanding  that  unremitting  persecution.  God,  however, 
remembered  His  promise :  "  Going,  therefore,  teach  all  nations,  and,  be- 
hold, I  am  with  you."  The  pride  of  the  Roman  Emperors  and  their 
power  gradually  dwindled  away ;  and  at  length,  upon  their  imperial 
throne  sat,  and  still,  after  the  lapse  of  1,800  years,  sits  the  successor  of 
St.  Peter,  wielding  the  sceptre  of  his  spiritual  authority,  over  an  empire 
bounded  only  by  the  farthest  limits  of  the  universal  world.  Behold  the 
wonderful  effects  produced  by  the  preaching  of  God's  Holy  Word ! 

When  we  read  the  annals  of  the  Christian  Church,  with  what  feelings 
of  wonder  and  delight  do  we  perceive  the  miraculous  effects  produced  by 
the  preaching  of  the  Saints  and  Fathers  throughout  the  entire  fold  of 
Christ!  Those  holy  men,  attired  in  poor  and  humble  garb,  perfectly 
destitute  of  worldly  power  and  dignity,  austere  in  their  habits,  unattractive 
in  appearance,  barren  of  all  the  graces  of  rhetoric — for  the  most  part  un- 
skilled "  in  the  persuasive  words  of  human  wisdom,"  preach  Christ  cruci- 
fied throughout  the  world,  in  language  simple  and  unadorned,  but  vehe- 
ment and  fervid.  Thousands  flock  around  them,  chained,  fascinated,  as 
it  were  by  some  invisible  power.  They  are  chased  by  the  persecutor 
from  public  places ;  they  retire  into  caverns  and  solitudes,  followed  by 
eager  multitudes  of  hearers;  hundreds  and  thousands  are  converted  and 
baptized ;  persecution  haunts  the  increasing  multitudes  of  Christians,  but 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  591 

their  conversion  is  sincere — their  faith  is  unflinching — they  are  arraigned 
before  the  tribunals  of  the  land,  and,  boldly  professing  the  religion  of  Je- 
sus, seal  their  faith  with  their  blood,  and  are  rewarded  for  their  fidelity  to 
Him  with  crowns  of  everlasting  glory. 

The  Word  of  God,  my  brethren,  is  the  same  to-day  that  it  was  in  the 
earliest  days  of  the  Christian  Church ;  the  same  Gospel  we  preach  to-day 
that  St.  Peter  preached  to  the  Jews  more  than  i,8oo  years  ago,  when  by 
his  two  first  sermons  he  converted  8,000  souls  to  the  Lord.  It  is  always 
the  same — it  is  incapable  of  change.  The  Holy  Catholic  Church,  guided 
by  the  Spirit  of  truth,  preserves  with  jealous  care  the  Holy  Word  of  God 
in  all  its  primitive  purity,  and  hands  it  down  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, undefiled  and  uncorrupted  as  it  was  received  from  the  mouths  of 
Christ  and  His  Apostles.  Why  it  does  not  produce  the  same  effects  now 
as  it  did  in  the  primitive  days  of  Christianity,  I  will  explain  immediately. 
But  we  are,  nevertheless,  witnesses  every  day  of  its  extraordinary  efficacy 
and  power.  Do  we  not  see  hundreds  of  men,  even  Christian  men,  wan- 
dering away  for  years  from  the  path  of  duty,  forgetful  of  God  and  of 
futurity,  wallowing  in  sin,  the  victims  of  passion,  the  slaves  of  Satan, 
scandals  to  the  world,  who,  at  some  happy  moment,  touched  by  the  grace 
of  God,  come  to  hear  His  Holy  Word  ;  their  hearts  are  moved,  they  kneel 
before  the  minister  of  God,  confess  their  sins,  and  live  for  the  rest  of  their 
days  in  piety  and  penitence,  loving  and  beloved  by  the  Almighty.  What 
is  it  that  inspires  us  with  a  horror  for  sin,  but  the  Holy  Word  of  God? 
What  fills  us  with  apprehensions  of  judgment,  death,  and  futurity,  but 
the  Word  of  God  ?  What  paints  to  us  the  glories  of  heaven,  and  fills  us 
with  joy?  what  presents  to  our  souls  the  infinite  mercies  of  God,  and 
soothes  and  consoles  us?  what  melts  us  to  tears  in  considering  the 
passion  of  the  Lord  ?  what  nerves  and  encourages  us  to  virtue  in  remem- 
bering the  trials  and  triumphs  of  the  Saints,  but  the  Holy  Word  of  God, 
preached  by  His  minister  in  the  simple  eloquence  of  the  Gospel,  and 
heard  with  faith,  with  humility,  and  with  zeal  for  the  sanctification  of 
our  souls?'  In  fine,  what  is  it  that,  when  the  Christian  lies  upon  his 
death-bed,  and  when  he  is  about  to  close  his  eyes  forever  on  the  world, 
cheers  and  consoles  him,  alleviates  his  pain,  nay,  makes  suffering  sweet, 
bows  down  his  soul  with  resignation,  strengthens  his  faith,  animates  his 
hope,  inflames  his  love  for  God  ?  what  is  it  that  lights  up  a  smile  on  his 
pale  cheek,  even  while  his  bosom  is  rent  with  the  quivering  agonies  of 
death,  but  the  holy  words  of  salvation  distilled  into  his  dying  ear  by  the 
attendant  minister  of  God — words  which  tell  him  that  there  is  a  world 
beyond  the  grave,  where  the  throbbing  heart  shall  rejoice  with  eternal 
jubilations  in  the  bosom  of  the  Almighty,  and  that  pallid  cheek  bloom 
with  perennial  health  in  the  sunshine  of  a  blessed  immortality? 


592  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Such,  my  brethren,  are  the  sublime,  the  glorious  effects  which  the 
Word  of  God  is  capable  of  producing  in  the  souls  of  men.  Let  us  now 
see  why  those  effects  are  not  invariably  produced — why  sermons  are  now 
preached,  why  the  Gospel  truths  are  now  expounded  as  of  old,  and  yet 
why  no  extraordinary  conversions  are  wrought ;  but  why,  on  the  other 
hand,  men  leave  the  house  of  God  barren  as  they  entered  it,  unimpressed, 
uninstructed,  unconsoled.  The  fault  does  not  lie  with  the  Word  of  God, 
for  I  have  shown  you  what  that  Word  is  capable  of  doing.  Where  else 
then  does  the  fault  lie?  It  must  be  either  with  the  preachers  of  the 
Word,  or  with  the  hearers  of  it.  Is  it  the  fault  of  the  preachers  ?  I  will 
show  you  that  it  is  not.  Every  preacher  of  God's  Holy  Word  has  Divine 
authority  for  preaching,  "Going,  therefore,"  said  Christ  to  His  Apostles, 
"  teach  all  nations,  and  behold  I  am  with  you  all  days,  even  to  the  con- 
summation of  the  world."  All  lawfully  appointed  successors  of  the 
Apostles,  therefore,  to  the  end  of  the  world,  have  not  only  God's  au- 
thority for  preaching,  but  they  have  His  command,  and  the  promise  of 
ijis  Divine  assistance.  They  are  all,  however,  differently  endowed  by 
Him  with  natural  gifts  and  talents ;  some  are  eloquent,  and  some  are 
not.  Men  cannot  excel  in  all  things,  and  he  who  excels  in  eloquence  is 
often  deficient  of  other  qualities  that  have  just  as  high  a  title  to  admira- 
tion. But,  my  brethren,  every  preacher  preaches  as  best  he  can  ;  and  no 
matter  in  what  uninteresting  language  his  thoughts  may  be  conveyed^ 
the  truths  he  speaks  are  the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  and  when  closely  ex- 
amined will  be  found  to  be  identical  with  those  which  have  been  deco- 
rated by  the  immortal  eloquence  of  an  Ambrose,  or  gilded  by  the  golden 
periods  of  a  Chrysostom.  In  fact,  the  mouth  of  the  preacher  is  but  the 
trumpet  through  which  God  prpclaims  to  the  world  the  Gospel  truths : 
"  It  is  not  you,"  he  says,  "  who  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  my  Father  that 
speaketh  in  you."  Such  being  the  case,  it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  preacher 
that  God's  Holy  Word  does  not  invariably  produce  its  effects  in  our  souls. 
The  fault  must,  therefore,  be  with  the  hearers  of  the  Word,  and  so  it  is 
in  point  of  fact. 

What  are  the  motives  that,  for  the  most  part,  induce  men  to  come 
and  hear  the  Word  of  God  ?  Is  it  that  they  may  learn — that  they  may 
be  instructed  in  the  truths  of  salvation ;  that  they  may  be  impressed 
with  the  enormity  of  sin,  with  the  terrors  of  judgment,  and  excited  to 
tears  of  penitential  sorrow  ?  Ah !  no,  far  from  it.  They  come  to  the 
House  of  God  for  a  great  variety  of  reasons.  Some  come  that  they  may 
get  over  in  some  way  the  obligations  of  sanctifying  the  Sabbath  day ; 
others  that  they  may  see  and  be  seen ;  some  that  they  may  attract  the 
attention  of  their  neighbors  to  the  elegance  of  their  persons,  or  the 
fashionableness  of  their  attire ;  others  that  they  may,  as  they  say,  kill 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  593 

time — for  want  of  something  else  to  do  ;  they  come,  because  if  they  re- 
mained away,  as  they  would  prefer,  they  would  excite  the  attention,  and 
call  forth  the  unpleasant  comments  of  their  friends  upon  their  indiffer- 
ence to  the  duties  of  religion  ;  they  come  through  an  idle  curiosity  to 
hear  some  great  preacher,  to  admire  the  eloquence  of  his  style,  the  copi- 
ousness of  his  language,  the  graces  of  his  gesture  :  as  he  gradually  swells 
into  some  grand  rhetorical  flight  they  are  filled  with  admiration — they 
exclaim  to  themselves,  "  How  magnificent !  how  sublime !  how  beautiful ! " 
but  when  he  calmly  expatiates  on  the  enormity  of  sin,  on  the  terrors  of 
judgment,  on  the  horrors  of  hell,  their  admiration  is  changed  into  indif- 
ference ;  they  grow  weary  of  those  dull,  commonplace  exhortations  to 
which  they  have  so  often  listened  before,  and  anxiously  wait  for  the  mo- 
ment when  the  preacher  shall  leave  these  beaten  paths,  and  lead  them 
once  more  into  the  regions  of  fancy  where  no  horrid  phantoms  are  con- 
jured up  to  strike  terror  or  alarm,  but  where  all  is  pleasing,  beautiful,  and 
gay.  What  is  the  consequence?  They  go  away  from  the  House  of  God, 
and  take  nothing  with  them  :  a  hundred  pious  thoughts  and  reflections 
have  been  strewed  before  them  in  profusion,  each  more  priceless  than  the 
gems  and  pearls  so  prized  in  this  passing  world,  but  they  have  not  treas- 
ured up  even  one.  They  merely  comment,  ignorantly  and  arrogantly, 
on  the  sermon  they  have  just  heard ;  they  praise  or  find  fault  as  they 
have  been  pleased  or  disgusted  ;  the  invectives  against  vice  in  which  the 
preacher  indulged,  they  apply  to  every  one  but  themselves.  Grace  has 
been  offered  to  them  and  refused,  spurned,  and  despised.  Wretched 
men !  while  dwelling  with  shallow,  vulgar  criticisms  on  the  defects,  and 
ridiculing,  as  often  happens,  the  tones  and  gestures  of  the  preacher,  they 
forget  the  words  of  Christ :  **  He  who  hears  you,  hears  me,  and  he  who 
despises  you,  despises  me."  They  think  not  of  the  awful  severity  with 
which  Christ  denounces  such  sacrilegious  conduct :  "  Into  whatsoever  city 
or  town  you  shall  enter,  whosoever  shall  not  receive  you,  nor  hear  your 
words  going  forth,  shake  the  dust  from  off  your  feet :  Amen  I  say  to  you, 
it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment than  for  that  city." 

What,  therefore,  are  the  dispositions  that  should  animate  you  when 
you  come  to  hear  the  Word  of  God  ?  I  will  tell  you.  You  must  come  to 
hear  that  Holy  Word  with  faith,  with  humility,  and  with  zeal  for  the  sanc- 
tification  of  your  souls.  You  must  come  with  faith,  believing  that  what 
you  hear  is  not  the  word  of  man,  but  the  Word  of  God.  You  must  listen 
as  if  God  Himself  were  speaking  to  you.  "  He  who  hears  me,  hears  you.'* 
You  must  not  consider  who  it  is  that  speaks ;  you  must  ponder  well  on 
what  you  hear.  The  priests  of  the  Church  merely  take  the  place  of 
Christ  Himself;  they  are,  as  St.  Paul  says,  "  the  ministers  and  dispensers 


594  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

of  His  mysteries  ";  they  are,  as  he  says  elsewhere,  '*  the  ambassadors  of 
Christ."  If  you  respect  the  ambassadors  of  a  worldly  king,  how  much 
more  should  you  honor  and  respect  the  ambassadors  of  the  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords !  You  should  hear  the  Word  of  God  as  St.  Paul  con- 
gratulates the  Thessalonians  on  having  heard  it.  "  We  give  thanks,"  he 
says,  "  to  God  without  ceasing,  that  when  you  received  of  us  the  word  of 
the  hearing  of  God,  you  received  it,  not  as  the  hearing  of  men,  but  as  it  is 
indeed  the  Word  of  God  ";  and  it  is  to  this  lively  faith  that  he  attributes 
the  diffusion  of  the  Word  throughout  the  early  Church.  "  From  you," 
he  says,  "  was  spread  out  the  Word  of  the  Lord,  and  in  every  place  your 
faith  is  gone  forth."  It  is  for  want  of  this  faith  that  the  Word  of  Christ 
made  no  impression  on  the  stiff-necked  Jews:  "You  hear  not  the  Words 
of  God,"  he  says,  "  because  you  are  not  of  God."  "  He  that  is  of  God 
heareth  the  Words  of  God.  My  sheep  hear  my  voice."  Imitate,  there- 
fore, my  brethren,  the  faith  of  the  Christians  of  the  early  Church ;  hear 
the  Word  of  God  as  they  heard  it.  Their  faith  overcame  all  obstacles ; 
in  mountain  and  desert  they  heard  the  Holy  Word ;  in  subterraneous 
caverns  and  dark  dungeons  they  cherished  the  sacred  seed  of  faith, 
which  gradually  grew  up  into  a  great  tree,  covering  the  world  with  its 
branches,  and  sheltering  beneath  its  foliage  the  children  of  Christ  from 
the  storms  of  temptations,  and  the  tempests  of  destruction. 

The  Word  of  God,  in  order  to  fructify  in  our  souls,  must  be  heard  not 
only  with  faith,  but  also  with  humility.  You  must  come  to  hear  it  with 
a  thorough  conviction  of  your  own  weakness  and  sinfulness.  You  must 
regard  yourselves  as  prisoners  arraigned  before  the  tribunal  of  God,  where 
all  your  vices,  all  your  errors  and  weaknesses,  are  exposed,  and  where 
the  judgments  of  God  are  denounced  against  you,  in  order  that  you  may 
be  humbled,  confounded,  and  ashamed.  Unless  you  bring  this  disposi- 
tion of  humility,  your  hearing  of  God's  Word  will  be  all  in  vain.  Unless 
your  souls  are  purified  from  the  weeds  and  tares  of  pride,  the  Word  of 
God,  like  the  good  seed,  shall  fall  on  an  unfruitful  soil,  where  it  shall  be 
choked  up,  and  lost  forever ;  and,  what  is  worse,  you  shall  be  made  ac- 
countable to  God  for  having  heard  His  Word,  and  for  rejecting  the 
means  which  it  afforded  you  of  eradicating  your  vices,  and  saving  your 
immortal  souls. 

Finally,  you  must  hear  the  Word  of  God  with  zeal  for  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  your  souls.  This  is  manifest,  for,  unless  you  sincerely  desire  to 
help  out  your  own  salvation,  the  Word  of  God  will  produce  no  effect 
on  you.  God  is  willing  to  assist  us  by  His  grace  to  save  our  souls  ;  but 
He  requires  our  co-operation  in  the  great  work.  He  who  is  cold  and  in- 
different to  his  own  salvation  must  not  be  surprised  hereafter,  if  he  finds 
that  he  is  lost  forever.     It  were  far  better  never  to  hear  the  Word  of  God 


FATHER  BUCKLEY. 


695 


than  hearing  to  despise  it,  and  turn  to  our  own  destruction  the  very 
means  devised  by  Almighty  God  for  averting  that  dreadful  doom. 

Oh !  then,  my  brethren,  let  me  entreat  you,  whenever  you  hear  the 
Word  of  God,  to  hear  it  as  it  ought  to  be  heard — to  remember  that  where 
His  minister  opens  his  mouth,  you  are  about  to  hear,  if  not  the  very 
words,  at  least  the  very  truths  that  God  Himself  would  address  to  you, 
if  He  appeared  before  you  in  human  form.  Remember  that  every  truth 
of  the  Gospel  uttered  for  your  edification  is  a  special  grace  and  gift 
destined  by  God  for  your  sanctification,  and  that  if  you  disregard  it,  you 
shall  most  assuredly  render  to  Him  a  severe  account  for  mercy  despised 
and  grace  rejected. 

If  you  hear  His  Holy  Word  with  the  dispositions  I  have  pointed  out 
— with  faith,  with  humility,  and  with  zeal  for  your  own  sanctification,  you 
may  rest  assured  that  that  Word  will  take  deep  root  in  your  souls — that 
God  will  water  it  with  His  inspiration,  and  bedew  it  with  His  graces,  so 
that  it  shall  produce  fruit  a  hundredfold  unto  life  everlasting.  "  All  things 
shall  pass  away,"  says  Christ,  "but  my  words  shall  not  pass  away."  It 
is  His  Eternal  Word  that  has  said,  "  Blessed  are  they  who  hear  the  Word 
of  God  and  keepeth  it."  Remember,  therefore,  and  cherish  well  in  your 
hearts  the  words  of  St.  James,  with  which  I  opened,  and  with  which  I  con- 
clude this  discourse  :  "  Be  ye  doers  of  the  Word,  and  not  hearers  only, 
deceiving  your  own  selves"." 


SERMON   ON   FALSE   CONFIDENCE. 

"  Why  stand  you  here  all  the  day  idle  ?  " — Matt,  xx.  6. 

EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— We  were  sent  into  this 
world  for  no  other  end  than  that  we  might  labor  in  the  vineyard 
of  the  Lord ;  that  we  might  work  for  the  promotion  of  His  glory, 
and  thus  earn  our  eternal  reward.  Reason  as  you  will  on  the 
condition  of  man ;  account  as  you  please  for  his  position  in  life  ;  argue 
on  the  past,  and  conjecture  on  the  future,  as  wisdom  or  fancy  may  suggest ; 
at  the  end  of  all  this  intellectual  struggle  for  truth,  an  inward  voice  ever 
rings  out  clear  and  convincing  within  your  soul — you  were  placed  in  the 
world  for  no  other  object  than  that  you  might  labor  in  the  vineyard  of 
the  Lord.  Everything  proclaims  it :  the  shortness  of  life  ;  the  vanity  of 
earthly  pursuits ;  the  emptiness  of  human  pleasures ;  the  fate  of  millions 
who  have  lived  since  the  world  began,  and  of  whom  there  is  now  no 
trace ;  their  ambition  thwarted ;  their  hopes  deceived ;  their  schemes 
baffled  ;  their  theories  disproved  ;  God's  Providence  vindicated,  and  His 
Gospel  taught  and  revered,  unchanged  and  unchangeable,  by  the  infal- 
lible Church,  which  ever  reigns  triumphant  amid  the  ruins  of  man's  works 
and  speculations. 

You  believe  in  this  high  destiny  of  yours,  otherwise  you  were  not  here 
to-day;  your  conscience  has  impelled  you  hither;  that  silent  monitor, 
which  ever  whispers  within  you  that  you  were  sent  to  labor  in  the  vine- 
yard of  the  Lord.  And  yet,  strange  fatuity  of  man !  unmoved  by  the 
conclusions  of  reason,  and  the  dictates  of  religion ;  untaught  by  the  ex- 
perience of  the  past ;  and  submitting  to  the  delusion  to  which  millions 
have  fallen  victims  before  you,  you  too  postpone  till  to-morrow,  till  next 
year,  till  some  indefinite  period  of  your  life,  the  hour  of  your  conversion 
to  God,  as  if  time  were  your  own,  and  you  could  command  it ;  as  if  your 
Lord  and  Judge  had  never  cried  out,  "Unless  you  do  penance,  you  shall 
all  perish."  To-day  He  comes  forth  once  more  into  the  highway  of  life. 
He  has  called  you  at  early  morning;  He  has  called  you  at  the  third  hour, 
at  the  sixth,  at  the  ninth ;  He  now  comes  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  per- 
haps for  the  last  time,  with  pity,  with  warning,  but  ever  with  plenteous 
mercy;  He  exclaims  to  you,  "Why  stand  you  here  all  the  day  idle?" 
And  why  stand  you  idle?     Because  you  have  a  false  confidence  in 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  597 

God.  Because  you  trust  that,  somehow  or  other,  you  will  be  saved.  It 
is  well  then  that  we  should  see  what  kind  of  foundation  for  your  eternal 
hopes  this  false  confidence  is.  I  will  show  you  two  features  of  this  kind 
of  confidence  in  God's  goodness,  which  I  trust  will  be  sufficient  to  convince 
you  how  unreliable  it  is.  I  will  show  you  how  foolish  it  is,  and  how 
criminal.  If  you  were  convinced  that  you  would  be  lost  forever,  oh! 
what  would  be  the  anguish  of  your  mind.  I  will  prove  to  you  that  the 
presumptuous  sinner  will  be  lost  forever  unless  at  the  eleventh  hour  he 
enters  and  labors  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  And  just  behold  the  folly 
of  his  presumption.  The  habitual  sinner  must  live  in  the  constant 
apprehension  of  being  lost  forever ;  for  his  sinfulness  is  certain,  and  his 
repentance  is  very  uncertain.  Without  Divine  grace  he  cannot  be  rescued 
from  sin,  and  this  grace  he  cannot  give  himself ;  it  comes  from  God.  Do 
you  intend  to  die  in  your  sins,  or  to  abandon  them  ?  Alas !  the  former 
is  much  more  likely  to  happen  than  the  latter ;  it  is  so  much  easier.  It 
requires  no  effort  to  remain  in  sin,  you  have  only  to  let  corrupt  nature 
have  its  way,  to  yield  to  the  impetuosity  of  your  passions,  and  they  will 
speedily  bear  you  to  destruction.  You  have  only  to  let  the  poison  of 
sin  pass  into  your  soul  and  kill  it.  You  have  not  energy  to  apply  an 
antidote,  and  your  fate  will  be  that  of  the  wicked  man  described  by  Job : 
*'  His  bones  shall  be  filled  up  with  the  vices  of  his  youth,  and  they  shall 
sleep  with  him  in  the  dust."  Thus  to  die  in  your  sins  is  easy,  but  to  rise 
from  them  requires  a  force  from  without,  a  supernatural  force,  which  you 
cannot  apply  yourself,  and  which  you  can  only  obtain  by  flinging  your- 
self at  the  feet  of  God  and  imploring  it. 

And  it  is  by  no  ordinary  grace  that  you  can  be  rescued  from  your  sin- 
fulness, but  by  a  singular,  a  miraculous  intervention  of  Providence  ;  by 
such  a  change  as  excites  the  surprise  of  all  men,  from  its  suddenness,  and 
its  wondrous  working :  for,  remember  that  the  conversion  of  a  hardened 
sinner  is  a  prodigy  of  Divine  grace,  the  examples  of  which  are  very  rare  in 
the  world.  Who  can  promise  himself  the  good  fortune  of  a  Magdalen,  or 
a  penitent  thief?  We  hear  of  souls  from  time  to  time  turning  themselves 
to  God ;  we  hear  that  such  and  such  a  sinner  has  been  converted ;  but 
alas!  how  seldom.  If  God  should  act  according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of 
grace,  which  He  has  established,  you  perish :  if  you  are  saved  from  the 
slough  of  sin,  it  must  be  by  some  special  interposition  of  His  unspeakable 
mercy.  Again,  you  who  persist  in  sin  paralyze  the  action  of  God's  grace. 
You  wait  for  God  to  convert  you  ?  You  always  hope  for  the  coming  of 
this  inward  change  of  soul,  by  which  you  are  to  turn  to  God.  And  how 
do  you  adapt  your  soul  fof  this  salutary  change?  By  placing  fresh 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  God.  How  can  you  expect  God  to  give  you  His 
healing  grace,  if  you  constantly  oppose  Him  ?     If  you  seek  the  danger 


598  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

every  day,  every  hour  of  your  life,  how  can  you  hope  that  God  will  de- 
liver you,  in  spite  of  yourself?  God  is  ever  willing  to  give  grace,  but  He 
requires  your  co-operation.  How  can  a  man  who  is  drowning  be  saved, 
if,  instead  of  helping  his  rescue  by  another,  he  does  all  in  his  power  to 
resist  him  in  his  benevolent  attempt  ?  The  foolish  virgins  were  excluded^ 
because  they  showed  no  anxiety  to  meet  their  Lord  when  He  would 
come ;  they  neglected  to  trim  their  lamps,  and  to  watch :  they  fell  asleep 
— they  were  indifferent — and  so,  when  the  bridegroom  came,  they  cried, 
"  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us  !  "  But  He  answering  said,  "  Amen,  I  say  to 
you,  I  know  you  not.  Watch  ye  therefore,"  says  Christ,  "  for  ye  know 
not  the  day  or  the  hour."  Do  not  deceive  yourself,  O  sinner,  for  the 
grace  of  God  will  not  always  come  of  its  own  accord.  Years  ago,  when 
you  were  lost  in  a  vortex  of  passions,  you  trusted  that  the  heavenly  gift 
would  come  at  last  and  save  you.  Has  it  come  yet  ?  Has  the  world  lost 
its  charms  for  you  ?  Have  your  passions  cooled  down  ?  Are  you  a  bet- 
ter man  or  woman  to-day,  than  you  were' ten  years  ago?  I  fear  not ;  and 
yet  you  still  hope  for  the  coming  of  this  peaceful  day.  Alas!  the  de- 
lights of  sin  will  be  forgotten ;  and  you  will  start  fresh  on  the  road  to 
Heaven,  in  the  serene  sunshine  of  a  soul  from  which  the  clouds  of  temp- 
tation will  have  passed  away.  Delusive  hope!  Know  you  not,  that  to 
the  sinner  grace  will  not  come  without  tears,  and  ceaseless  importunity — 
without  longing  desire  and  earnest  entreaty  ?  Do  you  ever  pray  for  the 
grace  of  conversion  ?  Do  you  ever  ask  of  God  to  change  your  heart  ? 
Do  you  seek  to  propitate  Him  with  alms-deeds  and  good  works?  Do 
you  ever  really  and  sincerely  desire  to  be  converted  to  the  Lord — to 
enter  His  vineyard,  and  work  for  Him?  On  the  contrary,  does  not  your 
conscience  every  day  upbraid  you  with  standing  idle  in  the  market-place, 
frittering  away  precious  hours  in  the  pursuit  of  toys  and  vanities,  which 
were  intended  by  your  Creator  to  be  spent  in  working  for  His  glory,  and 
your  own  eternal  salvation  ? 

One  of  the  greatest  of  all  graces  is  the  grace  of  conversion ;  and  yet, 
this  is  the  grace  you  expect  God,  out  of  His  pure  bounty,  to  give  you ; 
although  you  are  every  day  making  yourselves  more  and  more  unworthy 
of  it.  You  are  unworthy  of  it  because  you  persist  in  sin — because  you 
abuse  the  lights  and  inspirations  which  God  is  every  day  shedding  over 
your  soul.  You  despise  the  instructions,  the  warnings,  the  threats,  the 
allurements,  the  thousand  artifices,  so  to  speak,  by  which  He  seeks  to  win 
you  from  the  love  of  passing  things,  to  the  love  of  Him  who  alone  is 
beautiful,  good,  unchanging,  and  Eternal.  You  are  unworthy  of  the 
grace  of  conversion,  because  you  neglect  to  have  recourse  to  those  means 
by  which  grace  is  imparted  to  the  soul.  Where  is  your  respect  for  the 
Sacraments  of  Christ?     Do   you  not    rush  from   them  as  if  they  were 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  599 

engines  of  destruction,  instead  of  being  mediums  of  salvation  ?  Is  not 
the  bare  mention  of  them,  at  times,  unpleasant,  perhaps  disgusting,  to 
you  ?  Do  you  not  seek  to  change  the  subject  to  some  topic  more  agree- 
able to  the  ears  of  one  whose  only  pleasure  is  beneath  the  sun,  and  not 
beyond  it  ?  You  are  unworthy  of  God's  grace ;  because  you  deride  and 
mock  those  who  are  pious  and  godly.  You  are  unworthy  of  it,  because 
you  repose,  in  a  profound  ease  and  security  of  soul,  heedless  of  God,  of  His 
admonitions  and  judgments,  of  His  goodness,  His  mercy,  and  His  love; 
thus  turning  your  conduct  into  perpetual  insult  to  His  Almighty  Provi- 
dence !  and  yet,  you  are  the  person  who  expects  that  God  is  to  work  one 
of  His  greatest  miracles  for  you — to  grant  you  the  grace  of  being  con- 
verted— while  you  are  doing  all  in  your  power,  while  you  employ  every 
energy  of  your  mind  and  body — while  you  turn  every  moment  of  your 
time  to  place  obstacles  in  His  path,  to  rouse  His  wrath,  and  provoke  His 
vengeance  on  your  unhappy  head.  Truly,  then,  is  this  presumption,  this 
false  confidence  in  God's  goodness,  a  folly ! 

But  let  us  see,  for  a  moment,  the  pretexts  by  which  a  sinner  defends 
his  persistence  in  iniquity.  Age,  he  says,  will  blunt  my  passions ;  they 
cannot  be  always  thus  violent ;  the  maddest  fire  must  burn  out  at  last. 
Let  us  grant  it.  But,  are  you  so  sure  that,  when  your  passions  have  dis- 
appeared, repentance  will  come  for  the  past  ?  Does  it  follow,  that,  if  a 
man  can  no  longer  sin,  he  grieves  for  having  sinned  before?  No,  for  the 
truth  is,  that  the  desire  to  sin  survives  the  capacity  to  commit  it.  A  man 
may  have  a  passion  without  being  able  to  gratify  it ;  and  experience  proves 
that  the  passions  only  grow  stronger  by  age.  Like  old  trees,  they  fix 
themselves  year  after  year  more  firmly  in  the  ground  and  cannot  be  up- 
rooted, except  with  the  ground  itself.  I  speak  not  of  the  insult  to  God 
implied  in  the  sinner's  saying,  I  will  turn  to  Thee,  O  God,  when  I  can  sin 
no  more  ;  I  speak  not  of  the  folly  of  saying,  I  will  be  converted  next  year, 
or  twenty  years  hence,  when  we  cannot  promise  ourselves  one  hour,  one 
second  of  existence. 

The  farther  you  keep  from  God,  the  more  will  He  sunder  Himself 
from  you ;  He  constantly  invites  you  to  come  to  Him,  and  you  as  con- 
stantly decline.  What  can  you  expect  from  Him,  who  has  said,  "  Venge- 
ance is  mine,  and  I  will  repay,"  but  the  punishment  due  to  love  despised, 
and  favors  only  treated  with  ingratitude?  Yes,  and  if  terror  has  still 
any  influence  left  on  your  heart,  hear  what  the  wise  man  proclaims,  and 
tremble :  "  I  called,"  saith  the  Lord,  "  and  you  refused  ;  you  have  despised 
all  my  counsel,  and  have  rejected  my  reprehension.  I  also  will  laugh  in 
your  destruction,  and  will  mock,  when  that  shall  come  upon  you  which  you 
feared.  When  sudden  calamity  shall  fall  on  you,  and  destruction,  as  a 
tempest,  shall  be  at  hand ;  when  tribulation  and  distress  shall  come  upon 


600  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

you,  then  shall  they  call  upon  me,  and  I  will  not  hear ;  they  shall  rise  in 
the  morning  and  shall  not  find  me;  because  they  have  hated  instruction, 
and  received  not  the  fear  of  the  Lord."  But  you  hear  these  threats  with 
indifference,  O  sinner !  these  appalling  words  do  not  disturb  the  repose 
of  your  mind.  Alas !  this  is  your  crowning  misery,  that  every  sting  of 
conscience  should  be  torn  away  by  the  friction  of  sin — that  your  soul, 
once  keenly  sensitive  to  remorse,  should  now  after  years  become  tranquil 
and  imperturbable  to  all  guilt  and  its  attendant  bitterness.  This  is  the 
direst  visitation  God  had  in  store  for  you,  that  you  should  deem  a  curse 
a  blessing — that  you  should  mistake  a  calm  of  conscience  for  innocence  of 
life,  nor  dream  that  it  is  only  the  forerunner  of  that  most  frightful  of  tem- 
pests, the  storm  of  God's  inexorable  and  inextinguishable  wrath.  In  de- 
livering you  over  to  this  desolation  of  the  reprobate,  He  inflicts  the 
severest  penalty  of  your  guilt ;  He  acts  according  to  the  extremest  rigor 
of  His  justice ;  for  if  He  ever  again  intended  to  visit  you  with  His  con- 
verting grace,  it  would  be  by  exciting  fear  and  uneasiness  in  your  mind, 
that  you  might  see  your  deplorable  condition,  and  cry  for  mercy.  But 
woe  to  Him  who  is  familiar  with  sin,  and  a  stranger  to  sorrow!  Sorrow 
eternal  is  his  doom. 

False  confidence  in  God  is  not  only  a  folly — it  is  a  crime.  It  is  an  in- 
sult to  the  wisdom,  to  the  justice,  to  the  mercy  of  God.  It  is  an  insult  to 
His  wisdom.  For  the  sinner  argues  thus  : — God  is  infinitely  wise.  He 
has  established  a  system  by  which  He  acts  toward  man  in  a  spirit  of  in- 
finite wisdom.  So  far  we  agree  with  the  sinner.  But  He  goes  farther. 
He  says,  justifying  his  sinfulness,  God  holds  in  His  hands  the  hearts  of 
men — He  can  change  them  in  a  moment  at  His  pleasure ;  and  so  He  can 
change  mine.  What  tribute  is  this  to  the  wisdom  of  God,  which  the  sin- 
ner praises  so  much  ?  Is  it  not  rather  an  insult  to  the  Divine  wisdom  ? 
Is  it  not  to  say  that  God,  although  infinitely  wise,  acts  blindly  and  with- 
out discernment  ?  That  He  will  save  the  presumptuous  sinner,  as  well  as 
the  humble  penitent?  That  He  treats  the  just  and  the  unjust  with  the 
same  measure  of  His  bounty?  But  the  sinner  insults  not  only  the  wis- 
dom but  the  justice  of  God  ;  he  says — I  was  born  with  those  weaknesses ; 
they  are  inherent  in  my  nature ;  other  men  are  free  from  them,  but  I  am 
their  victim  ;  God  will  have  it  so.  My  deplorable  tendency  to  sin  ought 
rather  to  excite  God's  pity  than  arm  His  wrath  against  me.  This  is  a 
false  reasoning,  my  brethren ;  God  is  not  the  cause  of  your  corrupt 
nature.  Sin  is  the  cause  of  it — it  sprung  from  the  crime  of  Adam,  and  is 
fostered  by  your  own  self-indulgence.  Again,  whatever  be  the  weakness 
of  your  nature,  you  are  always  master  of  your  passions,  otherwise  God 
would  doom  you  beforehand  to  inevitable  destruction,  which  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  nature  of  Him  who  is  infinitely  just  and  good.     And,  if 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  601 

you  are  weak,  God  knows  it,  and  rather  than  permit  you  to  be  lost,  He 
is  ready,  when  you  ask  Him,  to  fling  around  your  soul  a  fortification  of 
graces  which  all  the  forces  of  hell  itself  cannot  undermine.  But  speak 
the  truth,  examine  your  soul,  and  be  candid ;  are  not  these  all  flimsy  ex- 
cuses you  make  merely  to  compromise  with  your  corrupt  inclinations ;  is 
not  the  real  secret  that  you  love  your  passions,  and  that  you  will  not 
part  from  them? 

The  sinner,  in  fine,  insults  the  mercy  of  God.  Nothing  is  so  common 
as  to  hear  men  say,  who  are  estranged  from  the  ways  of  piety :  "  Oh ! 
God  is  infinitely  merciful;  He  does  not  will  the  death  of  a  sinner!" 
But  what  does  the  sinner  mean  by  this  exclamation  ?  What  balm  does 
he  gather  from  it  for  his  own  soul  ?  Does  he  mean  that  God  never  pun- 
ishes crime?  he  will  scarcely  say  that:  that  He  never  abandons  the  sin- 
ner. Did  He  not  abandon  Pharaoh  ?  Did  He  not  abandon  Saul  and 
Antiochus?  Did  He  not  abandon  the  impenitent  thief  while  He  saved 
the  repentant  ?  Will  the  sinner  say  that  God  will  save  the  drunkard,  the 
immoral  man,  the  avaricious,  the  proud,  and  the  blasphemer?  We  all 
know  that  nothing  defiled  can  enter  heaven  ;  what  consolation  is  this  to 
the  sinner?  Let  him  then  cease  to  insult  the  mercy  of  God,  by  saying 
that  such  as  he  can  enjoy  eternal  joy  hereafter.  Let  him  rather  tremble 
at  the  words  of  God,  as  recorded  in  His  sacred  writings — "  add  not  sin  to 
sin  ;  and  say  not  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  is  great.  He  will  have  mercy  on 
the  multitude  of  my  sins,  for  mercy  and  wrath  quickly  come  from  Him, 
and  His  wrath  looketh  upon  sinners.  Delay  not  to  be  converted  to  the 
Lord,  and  defer  it  not  from  day  to  day  ;  for  His  wrath  shall  come  on  a 
sudden,  and  in  the  day  of  vengeance  He  will  destroy  thee." 

I  have  shown  you,  my  brethren,  the  folly  and  criminality  of  the  sin- 
ner, in  presuming  on  the  goodness  of  God.  Will  you  any  longer  be  guilty 
of  this  folly  and  this  crime?  Oh  !  do  not  delude  yourself  with  the  idea 
that  you  may  be  saved.  Why  should  you  leave  to  chance  a  matter  in 
which  all  your  happiness  for  eternity  is  concerned  ?  You  will  not  be 
saved  without  your  own  co-operation.  You  must  begin  the  work,  and 
God  will  perfect  it.  As  you  sow,  you  shall  reap :  "  If  you  sow  in  corrup- 
tion, you  shall  reap  in  corruption,"  saith  the  Apostle ;  but  if  you  sow  in 
tears,  you  shall  reap  in  joy.  Why  should  you  put  off  till  to-morrow  what 
can  be  done  to-day?  There  is  no  to-morrow  for  a  Christian.  "  Thou  fool, 
perhaps  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee."  Oh  !  if  thou  art 
to  be  lost  hereafter,  how  amply  will  God  be  able  to  vindicate  His  con- 
duct toward  you.  He  will  point  to  the  Gospel  of  this  day,  and  He  will 
say  to  you,  "  I  was  the  householder,  who  went  out  to  hire  thee  into  my 
vineyard.  I  went  at  early  morning.  In  the  dawn  of  thy  life  I  sought 
hee  in  Baptism  ;  I  gave  thee  my  grace.     At  the  third  hour  when  the 


602 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


light  of  reason  beamed  on  thy  soul,  I  called  thee  in  the  Sacrament  of 
Penance.  At  the  sixth  hour  I  invited  thee  to  the  banquet  of  my  love  at 
the  Holy  Eucharist.  At  the  ninth  hour  I  confirmed  thee  in  my  grace 
and  my  love.  But  now  I  come  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  I  find  thee 
here  idle.  I  find  with  thee  many  who  never  heard  my  voice,  or  heeded 
it.  Some,  who  refused  my  call  at  early  morning,  at  the  sixth  and  at  the 
ninth  hours ;  they  ate  thy  companions ;  and  thou  hast  left  my  vineyard ; 
thou  hast  obeyed  the  call  and  grown  weary  of  the  labor ;  why  stand  you 
here  all  the  day  idle?  "  Oh  !  sinner,  if  thou  art  lost,  how  amply,  I  repeat, 
will  God's  justice  and  goodness  be  vindicated  by  these  words !  Hear 
Him  then  even  at  the  eleventh  hour:  "  If  this  day  you  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Lord,  harden  not  your  hearts."  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord,"  saith  the 
prophet,  "  while  He  may  be  found  ;  call  upon  him  while  He  is  near.  Let 
the  wicked  forsake  his  way;  and  the  unjust  man  his  thoughts,  and  let 
him  return  to  the  Lord,  and  He  will  have  mercy  on  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  He  is  bountiful  to  forgive."  O  good  and  merciful  God,  soften  our 
hard  hearts;  illumine  our  darkened  souls,  that  we  may  love  Thee  at 
length,  who  alone  art  worthy  of  our  love ;  that  we  may  no  longer  be  daz- 
zled by  the  false  glare  of  worldly  pleasure  ;  but  that  we  may  see  Thee  as 
Thou  really  art,  the  true  light  that  enlighteneth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  this  world,  and  that  shines  on  him  for  all  eternity  with  the  effulgence 
of  glory  never  to  be  extinguished.    Amen. 


17'^-»J'- 


SERMON   ON    CHRISTIAN    HOPE. 

Gospel — The  man  cured  of  the  palsy. — ^John  v. 

EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN :— Beside  the  pond  of 
Bethsaida,  a  multitude  of  men,  sick,  blind,  lame,  and  withered, 
lay.  They  waited  from  day  to  day,  from  month  to  month, 
and  some  from  year  to  year,  for  the  periodical  visit  of  the 
angel  who  should  descend  into  the  waters  and  impart  to  them  the  heal- 
ing powe*r.  After  various  periods  of  ardent  hope  and  bitter  disappoint- 
ment, some  were  cured,  while  others  lingered  on  in  their  infirmity  until 
life  and  health  were  scarcely  worth  recovery.  Thus  there  were  two 
classes  of  victims  ever  beside  that  mysterious  pond.  There  were  those 
who  sighed  for  the  coming  of  the  angel,  but  for  whom  the  angel  never 
came.  The  angel  did  come ;  but  while  they  were  preparing  to  descend, 
some  others  were  preferred  before  them,  and  their  turn  never  arrived. 
How  were  the  others  more  fortunate  ?  Because  they  had  some  one  to 
take  them  down  to  the  pond  just  before  the  waters  moved — because  they 
were  ever  on  the  watch,  and  soliciting  the  aid  of  some  kind  friends  against 
the  hour  of  need ;  because  their  hopes  of  being  cured  were  well  founded, 
while  others  displayed  a  reckless  indifference  to  securing  the  assistance  of 
some  bystander,  an  indifference  which  was  all  the  more  inconsistent,  as 
they  desired  to  be  healed,  but  neglected  the  proper  means  of  procuring 
their  recovery.  Is  it  not  just  so  in  life?  in  this  world  struck  with  a  uni- 
versal palsy  of  soul,  where  men  lie  sick,  blind,  lame,  and  withered  in  sin  ? 
Some  victims  hope,  and  their  hopes  are  well  grounded — they  watch  and 
pray  ;  they  set  aside  as  far  as  possible  all  worldly  cares  ;  they  think  only 
of  the  one  object — the  moving  of  the  waters  of  eternal  life ;  they  seek 
not  to  beguile  the  weary  hours  of  waiting  by  frivolous  pastimes  on  the 
bank  ;  they  make  all  things  subserve  to  a  state  of  preparation  for  a 
descent  into  the  healing  waters,  and  when  the  moment  comes,  when  the 
Angel  of  Death  arrives  (for  to  the  Christian,  death  is  the  passage  of  life), 
they  go  down  into  its  saving  depths,  accompanied  by  their  best  friends 
— the  good  works  which  they  have  practiced  during  life,  and  pass  into  a 
new,  happy,  glorious,  and  eternal  state  of  existence.  But  for  very  many 
of  those  palsied  souls,  although  the  light  of  their  hope  is  never  extin- 
guished, and  they  go  on  from  one  period  to  another  ever  disappointed, 

(603) 


604  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

yet  ever  still  expecting  the  moment  of  saving  immersion,  their  hope  is 
vain,  for  it  remains  a  barren,  inactive  hope ;  it  does  not  take  form,  it  does 
not  look  for  help ;  in  a  word,  it  is  not  hope,  but  presumption ;  it  is  a 
foolish  expectation  of  salvation  without  making  proper  use  of  the  neces- 
sary means  to  obtain  it. 

My  brethren,  I  would  speak  to  you  of  Christian  hope,  of  that  sublime 
virtue  of  the  soul,  by  which  man  has  ever  a  well-founded  expectation  of 
happiness  boundless  in  extent  and  endless  in  duration  ;  that  aspiring 
elevation  of  the  spirit,  by  which  she  mounts  beyond  this  narrow  world, 
and  fixes  her  abode  in  the  very  bosom  of  her  God :  that  free,  expansive, 
agile  gaze,  by  which  she  regards  this  paltry  theatre  of  life  as  the  passing 
pageant  of  an  hour,  and  roams  abroad  in  the  contemplation  of  that  inter- 
minable scene  of  future  bliss,  where  the  God  of  infinite  beauty,  and 
bounty,  and  love  is,  at  the  same  time,  the  Giver  and  the  Gift.  I  would 
speak  to  you  of  that  hope  that  consoled  the  patriarchs  of  old,  gjiid  all  the 
just  that  lived  from  Adam  to  Christ,  according  to  that  of  the  Psalmist : 
"  In  thee,  O  Lord,  have  our  fathers  hoped — they  have  hoped,  and  Thou 
hast  delivered  them ;  they  cried  to  Thee,  and  they  were  saved ;  they 
trusted  in  Thee,  and  they  were  not  confounded."  I  would  speak  to  you 
of  that  hope  which,  in  the  early  days  of  the  Church — for  the  anchorites 
converted  the  desert  into  a  blooming  garden,  and  for  the  recluse  made 
the  cloister  a  palace  of  delights — that  hope  which  adorned  the  sanctuary, 
and  made  the  scaffold  red  with  the  blood  of  sainted  victims  ;  that  hope 
which  sustained  a  Monica  in  her  prayers,  a  Jerome  in  his  temptation,  a 
Francis  in  his  poverty,  a  Teresa  in  her  sufferings,  a  Xavier  in  his  labors 
— who,  though  in  the  sight  of  men  they  suffered  torments,  their  hope 
was  full  of  immortality.  Afflicted  in  few  things,  in  many  they  were  well 
rewarded.  I  would  speak  to  you  of  that  hope  which  is  the  refuge  of  the 
sinful,  and  the  only  consolation  of  the  sorrowful,"the  companion  of  the 
desolate,  the  anchor  of  the  just,  the  light  which  cheers  and  guides  us  on 
through  tile  clouds  and  storms  of  life,  and  which  is  never  obscured,  until, 
having  led  us  safely  into  the  haven  of  salvation,  it  is  transmuted  into 
the  light  which  beams  upon  the  soul  for  eternity,  from  the  joy-giving 
countenance  of  the  Almighty. 

We  will  embrace  this  whole  question  by  considering  briefly,  yet  attent- 
ively, three  things — namely,  what  are  the  objects  of  our  hope ;  what  are 
the  grounds  of  our  hope ;  what  should  be  the  character  of  our  hope — in 
other  words,  what  do  we  hope  ;  why  do  we  hope  ;  how  should  we  hope  ? 

And  first — What  do  we  hope  ?  We  always  hope  for  something  which 
we  have  not ;  the  sick  man  hopes  for  health,  the  hungry  man  for  food, 
the  poor  man  for  means  to  live,  the  ignorant  man  hopes  for  knowledge, 
and  so  on.     By  Christian  hope  we  look  forward  for  something  which  we 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  605 

want  in  a  Christian  point  of  view.  There  is  no  Christian  who  does  not 
want  something;  and,  therefore,  there  is  no  Christian  who  does  not  hope 
for  something ;  if  a  Christian  is  in  a  state  of  sin,  he  wants  grace,  and, 
therefore,  grace  should  be  the  object  of  his  hope  ;  for  if  he  is  in  a  state  of 
grace,  he  wants  perseverance,  and,  therefore,  he  should  hope  for  persever- 
ance. Sin  and  sorrow  are  the  two  great  causes  of  want  in  this  life ;  grace 
and  joy  are  the  two  great  objects  of  hope.  Every  one  is  a  sinner — every 
one  has  some  sorrow  or  another ;  the  sinful  Christian  should  hope  for 
grace,  the  sorrowful  Christian  should  hope  for  future  joy.  Now,  if  there 
were  no  hope  for  man,  for  sinful,  for  sorrowing  man,  how  woeful  would  be 
his  state !  Estranged  forever  from  God — banished  from  His  sight,  both 
for  time  and  eternity.  Cut  off  as  a  branch  from  the  tree,  he  should  rot  and 
wither,  and  then  be  cast  into  eternal  fire.  The  anticipation  of  that  pun- 
ishment here  would  render  him  forever  miserable ;  for,  surely,  if  anything 
assuages  our  sorrows  in  this  life,  it  is  the  consoling  hope  that  they  cannot 
last  forever,  but  must  at  some  time  give  way  to  peace  and  joy.  The  con- 
dition of  Cain  was  dreadful,  unspeakably  dreadful — he  lost  all  hope  ;  "  My 
iniquity,"  said  he,  "  is  greater  than  that  I  should  deserve  pardon  ";  and 
"  he  went  out  from  the  face  of  the  Lord,  and  dwelt  as  a  fugitive  on  the 
earth  " — the  self-ejected  wanderer,  the  despairing  sinner,  the  irreclaimable 
child  of  sorrow.  Such  was  Cain,  and  such  should  we  all  be  if  we  had  not 
hope. 

But  to  us  who  are  blessed  with  the  possession  of  that  Divine  virtue, 
how  different  is  the  aspect  of  the  future?  If  we  fall  into  sin,  we  hope  to 
rise  from  it  again  by  the  grace  of  God  ;  if  we  relapse  into  sin,  we  hope 
still  to  rise  once  more ;  even  if  we  spent  a  whole  life  in  the  transgression 
of  God's  commandments,  not  of  course  in  a  wilful  presumption  on  His 
mercy,  but  yielding  to  the  weakness  of  human  nature,  and  beguiled  by  .the 
deceits  of  the  devil,  we  may  still  justly  hope  that  God,  whose  mercy  is 
boundless,  will  rescue  us  from  ruin :  if  we  are  in  sorrow  and  trouble,  we 
hope  that  it  may  soon  pass  away ;  that  even  if  it  continued  until  the  day 
of  our  death,  it  will  then  cease  forever  in  that  land  "  where  weeping  and 
sorrow  shall  be  no  more."  The  condition  of  those  who  hope  not,  then, 
is  very  miserable  indeed,  for  they  grope  on  in  rayless  darkness  through 
"  the  night  of  time,"  to  the  endless  night  of  a  miserable  eternity;  or  if 
they  be  the  sceptic,  infidel  race,  they  see  no  God  either  here  or  hereafter, 
but  believe,  or  persuade  themselves  they  believe,  that  the  moment  of 
death  is  the  moment  of  annihilation ;  that  for  them  the  sun  of  life  goes 
down  never  to  rise ;  that  there  is  no  existence  beyond  the  grave.  Oh  ! 
gloomy  thought.  While  we,  trusting  that  He  who  drew  us  from  nothing- 
ness by  His  Almighty  power,  will  preserve  us  by  the  same  power,  con- 
fiding in  His  love,  in  His  mercy,  in  His  truth,  believe  and  hope  that  having 


606  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

here  fulfilled  His  law  we  shall  behold  forever  His  infinite  beauty  and 
splendor,  and  shall  share  that  infinity  of  happiness  which  He  has  in  store 
for  those  who  love  and  suffer  for  Him  in  this  fleeting  world. 

But  is  this  a  vain  hope,  or  is  it  well-grounded  ?  We  shall  see  : — The 
great  ground  of  our  hope  is  the  infinite  mercy  of  God  ;  His  infinite  love 
for  men.  If  there  were  limits  to  God's  mercy,  then  indeed,  like  Cain,  we 
might  well  despair,  for  perhaps  our  sins  would  be  greater  than  that  we 
should  desire  pardon ;  but  of  God's  mercy  there  is  no  end.  Were  I  to 
open  the  pages  of  the  sacred  volume,  and  produce  before  you  the  evi- 
dences of  God's  infinite  mercy  and  love  for  man,  I  should  read  from  the 
first  word  of  Genesis  to  the  last  word  of  the  Apocalypse,  because  it  is  all 
one  history  of  God's  mercy  and  God's  love.  I  would  show  you  how, 
when  His  loving  designs  with  regard  to  man  were  frustrated  by  man's  in- 
gratitude, by  Adam's  sin,  God's  love  suffered  no  abatement ;  but  while 
in  the  spirit  of  His  justice.  He  cast  Adam  out  of  the  garden  of  pleasure, 
and  doomed  him  and  his  posterity  to  temporal  and  eternal  death,  and 
yet  in  the  sweet  spirit  of  His  boundless  mercy  He  enkindled  in  the  bosom 
of  the  outcast  the  serene  light  of,  hope  by  the  promise  of  a  Redeemer, 
whose  blood  should  wash  out  the  handwriting  of  sin :  "  I  will  put 
enmities,"  said  He  to  the  serpent,  "  between  thy  seed  and  her  seed  (that 
is,  the  woman's),  she  shall  crush  thy  head."  I  would  show  you,  how 
when  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  had  provoked  His  wrath  by  the  perpetration 
of  nameless  iniquities.  He  yet  would  have  spared  them  from  fire  and 
brimstone,  at  the  prayer  of  Abraham,  if  only  ten  just  men  could  have 
been  found  within  their  walls.  I  should  repeat  for  you  the  words  which 
He  uttered  to  Moses  on  the  mountain,  that  He  shows  mercy  to  thou- 
sands of  those  that  love  Him  and  that  keep  His  commandments.  I  would 
recite  for  you  the  Psalms  of  David,  whose  constant  theme,  through  every 
varying  form  of  praise,  is  the  infinite  mercy  of  our  God,  that  mercy  which 
is  above  all  His  works,  that  mercy  which  endureth  forever.  With  him  I 
would  cry  out,  "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul !  and  never  forget  all  He  hath 
done  for  thee,  who  forgiveth  all  thy  iniquities :  who  healeth  all  thy  dis- 
eases, who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction,  who  crowneth  thee  with 
mercy  and  compassion :  the  Lord  is  compassionate  and  merciful,  long- 
suffering,  and  plenteous  in  mercy :  and  as  a  father  hath  compassion  on 
his  children,  so  hath  the  Lord  compassion  on  them  that  fear  Him  :  the 
mercy  of  the  Lord  is  from  eternity  to  eternity  to  them  that  fear  Him." 
But  why  multiply  proofs  of  what  is  so  manifest — why  direct  your  atten- 
tion to  any  one  particular  passage  for  a  proof  of  that  mercy  which 
breathes  like  a  sweet  incense  from  every  page  of  God's  sacred  Word  ? 
Such  is  the  mercy  of  the  invisible  God  in  the  invisible  world — let  us  see 
of  what  kind  was  His  mercy  when  He  dwelt  amongst  the  children  of 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  607 

men.  In  the  fulness  of  time  He  came,  in  poverty,  that  the  poor  might 
have  hope ;  He  came  in  sufferings,  that  breaking  hearts  might  be  con- 
soled ;  He  shared  the  wretchedness  of  the  poor,  that  they  might  share  the 
riches  of  His  glory.  He  partook  of  their  sorrows  with  the  children  of 
sorrow,  that  they  might  participate  in  His  joy.  "  Come  to  me,"  He 
cries,  "  all  you  who  labor  and  are  heavy  laden  ";  heavy  laden  with  sin  or 
sorrow  ;  "  come  to  me,  and  I  will  refresh  you  ";  "  Nay,  even  blessed  are 
the  sorrowful.  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted. 
Blessed  are  they  who  suffer  persecution  for  justice  sake,  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  He  came  not  to  call  the  just,  but  sinners  to  re- 
pentance. He  would  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice.  He  courted  the 
society  of  sinners,  and  dispensed  His  graces  amongst  them.  He  loved 
to  be  with  the  sorrowful,  that  He  might  dispel  their  sorrow, — as  He 
wept  with  sympathy  for  the  sisters  of  Lazarus,  He  no  doubt  smiled  with 
them  in  their  joy  on  the  resurrection  of  their  brother.  Who  restored  the 
widow's  son  to  life  ?  Was  it  not  Jesus  ?  Who  forgave  the  Magdalen  } 
Was  it  not  Jesus?  Who  was  the  father  of  the  prodigal  child?  Who 
cleansed  the  leper?  Who  restored  sight  to  the  blind,  and  hearing  to  the 
deaf?  Who  fed  the  hungry  on  the  mountain?  Who  was  the  good 
shepherd  that  left  the  ninety-nine  sheep  in  the  desert,  and  sought  the 
one  that  went  astray?  Was  it  not  Jesus?  Here  are  the  grounds  of  our 
hope.  Are  you  satisfied  with  them?  But  they  are  still  stronger.  Did 
He  not  die  upon  a  cross,  and  shed  even  the  last  drop  of  His  blood  for 
our  sakes,  that  we  might  h^ve  hope  in  His  merits?  And  even  during 
the  death  agony  which  transfixed  His  soul  on  that  occasion,  was  not 
mercy  the  last  act  of  His  life,  the  last  thought  of  His  mind,  the  last 
utterance  of  His  lips'?  "  This  day,"  said  He  to  the  penitent  thief,  "  thou 
shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise";  "Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do,"  said  He  in  extenuation  of  the  wickedness  of  His  ex- 
ecutioners ;  that  is,  not  only  of  those  who  physically  caused  His  death- 
pangs,  but  of  us  who  by  our  sins  crucify  Him  again  every  day  of  our 
lives. 

Even  after  His  death  and  resurrection,  and  ascension  into  heaven,  He 
is  still  the  foundation  of  our  hope.  "  He  is  at  the  right  hand  of  God,"  as 
St.  Paul  says,  "  making  intercession  for  us."  Oh !  my  brethren,  truly 
our  hopes  are  well  grounded,  for  they  are  grounded  on  the  mercy,  on  the 
truth  of  God — on  infinite  mercy,  and  infallible  truth — they  are  grounded 
on  the  superabundant  merits  of  Christ,  the  beloved  Son  of  His  Eternal 
Father,  in  whom  He  is  well  pleased. 

But  lastly,  we  must  inquire  what  should  be  the  character  of  our 
hope — how  should  we  hope?  I  answer,  that  our  hope,  like  our  faith, 
must   not   lie   dormant ;  it   must   be   active ;  it   must   fructify   in  good 


608  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT: 

works — "  By  our  fruits  we  shall  be  known."  He  who  hopes  that,  as  God 
is  infinitely  mercifal,  he  has  nothing  to  fear,  does  not  hope,  but  he 
presumes  on  the  mercy  of  God ;  he  offends  God,  because  God  is 
merciful — that  is  to  say,  he  makes  God's  attributes  ancillary  to  his  guilt. 
Let  such  a  man  beware  of  that  hardness  of  heart  which  is  the  worst 
punishment  God  inflicts  on  man  in  this  life — the  desert  to  which  the 
soul  is  relegated,  beyond  the  reach  of  grace,  or  pardon :  let  him  remem- 
ber that  the  Son  of  Man  will  come  at  the  hour  He  is  not  looked  for,  and 
when  a  life  of  presumption  may  terminate  in  a  death-bed  of  despair. 
Nor  let  your  hope  be  like  the  hope  of  worldlings,  a  weak,  flickering  flame^ 
quickened  into  a  spasmodic  life  by  the  occasional  breathings  of  a  dis- 
turbed conscience,  but  lapsing  into  darkness  before  every  new  glare  of 
the  world's  pleasure-scenes.  The  child  of  pleasure,  when  pleasure  wearies^ 
lifts  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  sighs  for  the  peace  which  is  there :  he  would 
fly  up  with  wings  of  hope,  but  his  wings  are  clogged  with  the  mire  of 
worldliness,  and  he  falls  to  earth  again.  A  gleam  of  heaven's  delight  is 
enkindled  in  his  soul  for  a  moment,  and  he  hopes  to  gain  it ;  but  then 
he  thinks  how  hard  is  the  task,  and  the  light  is  quenched  as  soon  as  it  is 
enkindled.  An  eternity  of  happiness  sacrificed  for  the  fleeting  pleasures 
of  an  hour!  Hope  is  not  a  mere  feehng  of  the  mind;  not  a  mere  con- 
fidence in  the  mercy  of  God ;  it  is  not  that  state  of  the  soul  indicated  by 
some  people  when  they  say,  after  falling  into  sin,  "  Oh  !  God  is  good, 
and  He  will  pardon  me."  No:  hope  is  a  well-founded  expectation  of 
being  saved,  after  we  have  done  all  in  our  power  toward  our  salvation : 
it  is  that  desire  of  the  soul,  by  which  she  sighs  for  God  above  all  things, 
by  which  she  eagerly  longs  to  be  with  Him,  and  to  enjoy  Him — by  which 
she  would  willingly  endure  any  loss,  even  that  of  life  itself,  before  she 
would  be  content  to  lose  her  God.  It  is  that  disposition  of  the  soul,  by 
which  she  has  no  confidence  in  the  aid  of  man,  but  places  all  her  reliance 
in  God ;  that  feeling  that  animated  the  breast  of  David,  when  he  said  to 
Goliath,  "  Thou  comest  to  me  with  sword,  and  shield,  and  spear,  but  I 
come  to  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the  God  of  the  armies  of 
Israel,  whom  thou  hast  defied."  "  Blessed  is  he,"  says  the  Psalmist, 
"  whose  hope  is  in  the  name  of  the  Lord."  Such  should  be  our  hope, 
strong,  but  not  presumptuous;  resting  on  the  infinite  mercy,  and  the 
unerring  promises  of  God.  I  have  said  that  the  merits  of  Christ  are 
superabundant ;  that  is  to  say,  as  by  the  least  suffering  He  could  have 
amply  atoned,  so  by  His  multiplied  sufferings  He  has  atoned  beyond 
measure.  From  this  infinite  atonement,  some  heretics  argue  that  man  is 
saved  by  faith  alone — that  he  cannot  merit  anything  by  good  works,  as 
Christ's  merits  are  more  than  sufficient  for  man's  salvation.  This  is  not 
the  place  to  show  the  falsity  of  that  doctrine :  for  me,  it  is  sufficient  to 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  609 

tell  you,  that  the  teaching  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  different — it  assures 
us  that,  in  order  that  we  should  be  saved,  those  merits  of  Christ  must  be 
applied  to  our  souls ;  that  He  will  have  suffered  in  vain  for  us,  unless  we 
have  that  application  of  His  merits  made  to  us  by  good  works,  and  by 
the  reception  of  the  Sacraments.  Hence,  we  are  not  saved  by  a  torpid 
faith,  by  an  inactive  hope,  but  by  those  virtues  animated  by  charity,  by 
the  love  of  God,  by  a  patient  endurance  of  troubles  and  afflictions  for 
God's  sake,  and  by  a  worthy  reception  of  the  Sacraments — these  channels 
through  which  the  merits  of  Christ  are  applied  to  our  souls ;  through 
which  His  graces  flow  to  us,  and  replenishing  us  with  love,  enliven  our 
faith,  and  reanimate  our  hope,  making  both  effective  to  our  resurrection 
on  the  last  day,  with  an  undying  life  in  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  glory. 
Sinners,  therefore,  and  sorrowers,  here  is  your  consolation,  the  sweet  con- 
solation of  Christian  hope,  the  well-grounded  assurance  that  your  sins 
will  be  forgiven,  and  that  your  sorrows  will  be  turned  into  joy.  Were 
your  sins  as  red  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  made  as  white  as  snow. 
Were  your  sorrows  as  great  as  ever  tested  human  endurance,  they  would 
not  be  proportioned  to  the  measure  of  glory  that  shall  hereafter  be  re- 
vealed in  you. 

Live  then  forever  in  hope.  Say,  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou,  O  Lord, 
art  my  protector,  and  my  refuge,  my  God,  and  I  will  trust  in  Thee."  He 
who  has  no  hope  is  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner  at  night,  when  the  clouds 
have  obscured  the  stars;  while  the  Christian,  animated  by  this  Divine 
virtue,  sails  safely  abroad  over  the  tranquil  deep,  in  the  purest  sunlight 
of  heaven.  Hope  is  a  bright  angel  that  loves  to  hang  in  the  wake  of 
those  whose  souls  are  clouded  with  sin,  and  whose  hearts  are  burdened 
with  sorrow.  Where  poverty  and  affliction  take  up  their  abodes,  there 
the  bright  spirit  comes  to  shed  a  cheering  ray.  In  the  prison  cell  she 
whispers  to  the  captive  that  the  day  of  freedom  is  coming  fast  and  the 
gloom  of  his  dungeon  is  brightened  for  a  moment.  In  the  dreary,  desolate 
chamber,  where  some  lone  sufferer  pines  beneath  the  withering  shadows 
of  hunger,  and  disease,  and  neglect,  she  comes  and  tells  that  this  cannot 
last — that  some  human  consoler  is  at  hand ;  or  should  humanity  still  prove 
forgetful,  that  God,  the  infinitely  loving,  and  merciful,  and  bounteous,  will 
soon  replenish  that  hungry  soul  with  the  plenty  of  His  house;  that  the 
parching  tongue  will  soon  be  satiated  with  the  waters  that  flow  by  His 
eternal  throne ;  that  the  gaunt  shadow  of  disease  shall  be  dispelled  by 
the  brightness  of  eternal  life,  and  joy  become  the  inheritance  forever  of 
the  solitary  sorrower.  Hope  loves  to  visit  the  death-bed  of  the  Christian, 
and  never  quits  it  until  the  soul  is  fled,  and  her  duty  is  done.  When  the 
heart  is  almost  pulseless,  and  the  limbs  stark  and  stiff,  and  growing  cold, 
and  the  tide  of  life  is  ebbing,  hope  directs  the  flickering  glance  of  the 


610 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


gradually  darkening  eye  to  that  vista  of  heavenly  glories  through  which 
the  soul  is  soon  to  pass,  and  beyond  which  she  shall  repose  forever.  The 
last  throb  of  the  heart  is  a  throb  of  hope — the  last  sparkle  of  the  eye  is 
enkindled  by  hope.  Hope  accompanies  the  disembodied  spirit  to  the 
very  gate  of  Paradise,  and  with  a  smile  of  triumph  hands  her  over  forever 
to  joy. 

May  such  be  our  end !  When  life's  last  hour  is  come,  and  the  shadows 
of  the  past  are  fleeting ! — when  nought  remains  to  us  but  the  memories 
of  sin,  and  the  fears  of  judgment,  may  hope  stand  by  our  bedside,  to 
chase  those  memories,  and  to  dispel  those  fears.  May  she  cheer  us  on  in 
that  trying  hour,  and  make  its  sorrows  light,  and  its  bitterness  not  so 
bitter.  May  our  hearts  be  enabled  to  feel,  though  our  lips  may  not  be 
able  to  utter,  the  sentiment  of  the  Psalmist,  "  In  Thee,  O  Lord,  have  I 
hoped:  I  shall  not  be  confounded  forever."  Then  may  we  pass  forever 
into  that  happy  land,  where  the  sorrowful  cease  to  mourn,  and  where 
the  weary  are  at  rest;  thus  experiencing  for  eternity  the  truth  of  the 
Divine  promise,  that  mercy  shall  encompass  him  that  hopeth  in  the 
Lord.     Amen.  ' 


SERMON  ON  ALL  SOULS'  DAY. 

It  is  therefore  a  holy*  and  a  wholesome  thought  to  pray  for  the  dead,  that  they 
may  be  loosed  from  sins." — 2  Mach.  xii.  46. 

['EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN:— The  annual  return  of 
All  Souls'  Day,  which  has  just  gone  by,  reminds  us  of  one  of 
our  most  serious  religious  obligations,  namely,  the  obligation 
of  praying  that  such  of  our  brethren  who  have  died  in  the 
faith  of  the  Lord  may  be  rescued  by  Him  from  the  temporary  punish- 
ment which  they  endure  for  their  sins,  and  that  they  may  be  restored  to 
the  heaven  which  awaits  them  as  an  eternal  reward  for  the  virtues  they 
practiced  during  their  mortal  career  upon  this  earth ;  for,  that  there  is  in 
the  next  life  a  place  or  state  of  punishment  where  such  souls  suffer,  no 
Christian  is  permitted  to  doubt.  Indeed  amongst  all  the  dogmas  of  our 
holy  faith  there  is  not  one  more  clearly  proved  nor  more  consoling  than 
this.  Supposing  that  no  such  place  existed,  what  could  be  more  painful 
for  us  than  to  feel  that  we  should  never  again  cast  a  thought  upon  those 
whom  we  so  tenderly  loved  during  life ;  to  think  that  at  the  moment  of 
their  death  all  connection  between  them  and  us  is  severed  forever ;  that, 
considering  their  mortal  frailty  and  the  circumstances  of  their  death,  they 
perhaps  suffer  eternal  torments  for  their  sins ;  or  that,  should  they  be  so 
happy  as  to  have  passed  without  delay  into  the  kingdom  of  God's  glory, 
they  sing  His  eternal  praises,  indifferent  to  us,  and  to  our  prayers, 
notwithstanding  the  tenderness  and  love  they  manifested  to  us  while 
dwelling  here  below !  And  yet  such  is  the  faith  of  those  who  differ  from 
us  in  religion.  The  moment  their  friend,  father,  mother,  brother,  or  sister 
dies,  they  know  not  whither  the  soul  of  the  lost  one  is  gone.  Knowing 
the  weakness  of  that  soul  during  life,  remembering  the  many  sins  it  had 
committed,  considering  that  death  came  suddenly  without  warning,  that 
the  hour  came  when  it  was  least  expected,  and  when  the  suffering,  perhaps 
unconscious  patient  had  no  thought  of  either  time  or  eternity,  the  serious 
must  ever  doubt  whether  that  soul  is  reigning  with  God,  or  suffering  the 
eternal  torments  of  hell.  And  even  though  they  had  a  confidence  that 
their  deceased  friend  was  happy  with  God  forever,  yet,  their  religion 
teaches  them  that  they  need  never  address  to  them  a  single  prayer,  a 

(611) 


612  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

solitary  aspiration ;  for  in  the  intercession  of  the  Saints  with  God,  they 
have  no  faith :  and  thus,  no  matter  how  dear  that  friend  may  have  been, 
though  it  might  have  been  the  darHng  child  of  its  mother,  who  a  thousand 
times  had  clasped  the  lost  one  to  her  bosom  in  transports  of  love,  yet, 
once  the  hour  of  death  is  past,  the  strings  of  that  love  are  forever  snapped 
asunder — child  and  mother  part ;  between  them  no  community  of  thought 
or  of  interest  ever  again  shall  pass ;  they  shall  perhaps  never  meet  even 
beyond  the  grave.  Oh !  gloomy  thought ;  rank  as  the  heresy  that  gave 
it  birth. 

But,  for  us  who  have  the  happiness  to  enjoy  the  true  faith,  how  sweet, 
how  consoling,  is  the  doctrine  professed  by  our  Church  in  this  subject. 
Considering  the  infinite  mercy  of  God,  we  have  a  strong  confidence  that 
all  our  fellow-creatures  who  die  in  the  faith  of  the  Lord,  fortified  with  the 
Sacraments  of  the  Church,  received  either  in  fact  or  in  desire,  if  they  do 
•not  pass  at  once  to  the  happiness  of  heaven,  yet  escaping  the  eternal  tor- 
ments of  hell,  suffer  for  some  time  in  Purgatory,  where  they  may  be  con- 
soled and  relieved,  and  whence  they  be  at  length  delivered  by  our 
prayers.  Though  they  be  dead,  they  still  live  to  us ;  we  are  interested  in 
them  as  much  as  if  they  still  moved  amongst  us ;  and  when  they  are  per- 
mitted by  God  to  pass  into  the  kingdom  of  His  glory,  they  pray  for  us  to 
Him  without  ceasing,  that  He  may  give  us  the  grace  to  live  so  that  we 
may  meet  them  and  be  happy  with  them  through  all  the  ages  of  eternity. 
Oh !  consoling  thought,  which  takes  from  the  grave  the  victory  and  from 
death  the  sting !  Oh  !  blessed  communion  of  Saints — by  which  all  the 
children  of  God  are  united  in  spirit,  whether  militant  on  earth,  suffering 
in  Purgatory,  or  triumphant  in  heaven.  Oh !  happy  invention  of  the  Di- 
vine goodness,  by  which  we  escape  eternal  torments,  and  become  purified 
from  the  dross  of  earth ;  and  made  fit  to  shine  like  the  stars  in  the  firma- 
ment of  heaven. 

My  brethren,  although  your  faith  in  the  doctrine  of  Purgatory  is  strong 
and  unshaken,  yet,  as  it  behooves  all  Christians  to  give  an  account  of  the 
faith  that  is  in  them,  I  will  briefly  explain  to  you  the  grounds  on  which 
this  belief  is  based,  and  why  it  has  ever  been  the  clear  and  explicit  teach- 
ing of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church, 

We  read  in  the  Book  of  Machabees,  that  Judas  Machabeus  sent  12,000 
drachms  of  silver  to  Jerusalem,  for  sacrifice  to  be  offered  for  the  sins  of 
the  dead,  thinking  well  and  rejoicing  at  the  resurrection  ;  for  if  he  had 
not  hoped  that  they  who  were  dead  should  rise  again,  it  would  have 
seemed  superfluous  and  vain  to  pray  for  the  dead ;  and  because  he  had 
considered  that  they  who  had  fallen  asleep  with  godliness  had  great  grace 
laid  up  for  them,  "  it  is  therefore  a  holy  and  a  wholesome  thought  to 
pray  for  the  dead  that  they  may  be  loosed  from  their  sins."     Nothing 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  613 

could  be  more  explicit  than  this.  Purgatory  is,  according  to  the  Fathers 
of  the  Church,  that  place  of  exile  and  suffering,  that  prison,  whence  no 
man  shall  be  released  until  he  pay  the  "  last  farthing."  Hell  is  a  prison, 
but  the  debt  of  guilt  there  can  never  be  paid  ;  and  therefore  another  place 
of  punishment  must  exist,  where  the  last  farthing  of  the  debt  of  sin  must 
and  will  be  exacted.  Again,  St.  Paul  says,  that  in  the  next  life  "  Every 
man's  work  shall  be  manifest,  for  the  day  of  the  Lord  shall  declare  it,  be- 
cause it  shall  be  revealed  in  fire,  and  the  fire  shall  try  every  man's  work 
of  what  sort  it  is.  If  any  man's  word  abide,  which  he  had  built  there- 
upon, he  shall  receive  a  reward.  If  any  man's  work  burn,  he  shall  suffer 
loss ;  but  he  himself  shall  be  saved,  yet  so  as  by  fire"  (i  Cor.  iii.  15).  In 
these  words  Purgatory  is  most  clearly,  and  most  unmistakably  described. 
We  are  assured  by  the  Sacred  Scriptures  that  nothing  defiled  shall  enter 
into  the  holy  city  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem — "  nothing  defiled."  Hence, 
if  there  is  no  place  of  purgation,  it  follows  that  the  just  man,  who  has 
lived  all  his  life  in  grace,  and  dies  after  committing  one  venial  sin,  is  lost 
forever,  since  venial  sin  being  a  defilement  he  cannot  enter  into  heaven. 
Monstrous  thought !  unworthy  of  the  goodness,  mercy,  and  love  of  the 
Almighty.  If  there  be  no  Purgatory,  it  follows  that  nearly  every  one  is 
damned,  for  every  one  dies  with  some  defilement  of  the  soul,  except 
children,  after  baptism  ;  martyrs,  who  are  purified  in  their  own  blood,  or 
penitents,  who,  by  years  of  mortification  and  self-punishment,  have  blotted 
out  the  last  vestige  of  guilt  from  their  souls.  But  the  good  and  loving 
God  has  willed  that,  in  the  next  life,  such  of  us  as  shall  quit  this  world 
still  stained  with  guilt,  or  not  having  fully  atoned  for  our  sins,  shall  suffer, 
and  be  purified  from  the  last  blemish  that  defiles  the  soul,  until  we  be- 
come worthy  to  reign  forever  with  the  bright  spirits  that  surround  His 
celestial  throne  !  Again,  "  Whosoever,"  says  He,  "  shall  speak  a  word 
against  the  Son  of  Man,  it  shall  be  forgiven  to  him ;  but  whosoever  shall 
speak  a  word  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  it  shall  not  be  forgiven  to  him, 
either  in  this  world  or  the  next."  Now,  in  the  next  life  no  sin  can  be  for- 
given in  heaven,  because  no  sin  exists  there ;  nor  in  hell,  for  out  of  hell 
there  is  no  redemption  ;  th'brefore,  it  follows,  that  some  third  place  exists, 
where  sin  may  be  forgiven  :  that  place,  doubtless,  is  Purgatory. 

I  have  thought  it  right,  my  brethren,  to  lay  down  this  much  of  the 
grounds  on  which  the  Church  has  built  her  faith  in  the  existence  of  Pur- 
gatory, in  order  that  you  may  more  firmly  believe  in  this  great  truth ; 
that  your  hope  of  eternal  life  may  be  strengthened  by  knowing  that  such 
a  place  exists,  where  you  may  make  sufficient  atonement  to  God  for  the 
sins  you  may  not  cancel  in  this  life ;  and  that  your  charity  may  be  so  in- 
flamed that  you  may  relieve,  by  your  prayers,  alms,  and  good  works,  these 
poor  souls  that  there  suffer  for  their  sins,  and  wait  patiently  for  your 


614  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

prayers,  which  may  release  them  from  their  sufferings,  and  restore  them 
to  the  eternal  enjoyment  of  their  God. 

My  brethren,  in  order  that  you  may  understand  the  nature  of  your 
obligation  toward  the  suffering  souls  in  Purgatory,  I  will  show  you  that 
it  is  one  of  the  most  serious  obligations  imposed  on  us  by  the  virtue  of 
charity,  whether  we  regard  that  virtue  as  the  love  of  God,  of  ourselves,  or 
of  our  neighbors.  By  praying  for  the  dead,  we  further  the  interests  of 
God,  because  the  dearest  interest  of  God  is  to  receive  glory  from  His 
creatures ;  and  by  our  prayers  for  the  dead  we  do  all  in  our  power  to  add 
new  members  to  the  celestial  choirs,  who  chant  His  praises  in  heaven. 
That  souls  created  to  His  likeness,  and  so  tenderly  loved  by  Him,  should 
suffer  such  dreadful  pangs,  must,  as  it  were,  do  violence  to  the  heart  of 
God.  For  what  does  God  see  in  Purgatory?  He  sees  souls  which  He 
loves,  with  all  the  tenderness  of  His  Divine  love,  and  yet  whose  torments 
His  justice  forbids  Him  to  alleviate.  Souls  filled  with  merits,  adorned 
with  grace,  replete  with  virtues,  whom  He  cannot  yet  reward — the  souls 
of  His  elect,  espoused  by  His  Divine  Son,  which  He  is  bound  by  His  jus- 
tice to  strike  with  the  scourge  of  His  wrath.  What  violence  must  this 
conflict  between  justice  and  love  cause  in  the  bosom  of  the  merciful 
Father  of  the  Faithful !  By  praying  for  the  dead  we,  as  it  were,  release 
God  from  this  difficulty.  We  pray,  and  His  mercy  is  moved  to  forgive- 
ness. We  entreat  Him  for  the  poor  suffering  souls  of  our  deceased 
brethren,  and  His  Divine  heart  is  moved  to  compassion.  He  looks  be- 
nignly on  the  victims  of  sin,  expiating  their  guilt  in  those  fiery  flames : 
and  yielding  to  the  violence  of  our  prayers.  He  takes  them  by  the  hand, 
and  leads  them  into  the  eternal  mansions  of  the  blessed.  In  the  next  life 
God's  justice  alone  prevails  ;  in  this  His  mercy  abounds.  His  justice  for- 
bids Him  to  give  the  least  comfort  to  the  suffering  souls  of  the  faithful ; 
but  His  mercy  permits  us  to  do  so.  We  console  them  by  oui;  prayers 
— by  our  alms — by  our  fasting.  We  thus  give  glory  to  God,  by  affording 
to  His  creatures  those  consolations  which  He  is  Himself  forbidden  by  His 
justice  to  impart.  Thus,  by  praying  for  the  dead,  we  further  the  dearest 
interests  of  God.  We  also  further  our  own  interests,  for  every  soul  that 
we  release  by  our  prayers,  from  the  flames  of  Purgatory,  will,  in  a  spirit  of 
gratitude,  do  violence  to  the  throne  of  heaven  in  our  behalf. 

But,  my  brethren,  the  strongest  motive  that  should  induce  us  to  pray 
for  the  dead  is  a  sense  of  compassion  for  the  fearful  sufferings  they  en- 
dure before  they  are  permitted  to  behold  the  face  of  God.  Of  the  nature 
of  these  sufferings  we  have  no  conception.  Could  we  form  some  notion 
of  the  enormity  of  sin,  we  might  be  able  to  conceive  the  punishment 
which  it  deserves ;  but  we  commit  it  so  often,  we  have  become  so  fa- 
miliarized with  the  monster,  that  for  us  it  has  horrors  no  longer,  and  we 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  615 

know  not  how  hideous  it  is  in  the  sight  of  God,  or  how  fearfully  it  awakes 
His  vengeance  and  His  wrath.  We  are  assured  by  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  and  it  is  in  the  Church  a  constant  tradition,  that  Purgatory  is  a 
place  of  fire,  and  that  the  flames  are  the  same  as  those  in  which  the 
damned  suffer  in  hell.  Indeed,  the  sufferings  of  the  just  in  Purgatory 
and  the  damned  in  hell  are  exactly  alike  in  all  respects  but  one,  and  that 
is  the  extent  of  their  duration.  The  flames  of  Purgatory  cease,  but  those 
of  hell,  enkindled  by  the  wrath  of  God,  shall  burn  as  long  as  He  shall 
reign  in  heaven.  Excruciating,  however,  as  those  torments  are,  they  are 
as  nothing  in  comparison  to  what  is  called  the  loss  of  light,  which,  of  all 
other  sufferings,  is  the  most  agonizing  to  the  departed  soul.  Cut  off  for 
hundreds,  perhaps  thousands  of  years  from  God,  whom  it  has  at  length 
learned  to  know  and  to  love,  denied  His  company,  His  consolation.  His 
vision,  dwelling  in  the  land  of  darkness  and  solitude  and  pain,  the  soul  in 
Purgatory  suffers  the  most  unspeakable  woe.  Let  me  ask  you,  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  strive  to  realize  this  agonizing  sense  of  loss.  Imagine  yourself 
in  this  life  banished  for  a  great  period  of  your  lives,  say  twenty  years,  to 
a  foreign  land,  a  land  where  you  should  toil  without  a  shade  or  canopy 
beneath  the  burning  rays  of  a  torrid  sun.  During  that  long  and  melan- 
choly period  of  your  lives,  you  are  not  permitted  to  open  your  lips,  to 
exchange  one  word  with  a  fellow-creature,  but,  cowering  beneath  the  lash 
of  a  taskmaster,  you  toil  and  sweat  monotonously  on  from  day  to  day. 
The  labor  and  the  heat,  and  the  cruel  sufferings  are  more  bitter  even  than 
death  itself ;  but  worse,  far  worse,  are  the  solitary  thoughts  that  haunt 
your  soul  in  that  far  distant  land  ;  you  think  of  the  tender  mother,  of  the 
afflicted  father,  of  the  beloved  brother,  sister,  children,  from  whom  you 
have  been  so  rudely  dragged  away.  From  day  to  day,  from  year  to  year, 
you  sigh  and  think  of  those  dear  distant  friends.  You  never  hear  of  them 
during  your  long  pilgrimage ;  you  know  not  whether  they  are  dead  or 
living,  whether  you  shall  ever  more  see  one  of  them  again ;  and  even 
should  you  see  them  in  the  end,  how  changed  will  they  be !  Alas !  no 
longer  the  same,  but  care-worn,  old,  and  heedless  of  all  the  joys  that  this 
world  can  give !  What  tongue  can  paint  the  agonies  of  those  twenty 
long,  dreary  years,  the  bitterest  ingredient  in  which  is  the  same  sad,  ever- 
haunting  lonely  thought  that  you  have  no  one  to  love,  that  those  whom 
you  do  love  are  so  far  away,  and  that  the  chances  are  that  on  earth  you 
shall  never  again  behold  them  !  If  such  be  the  pain  of  loss  on  earth,  what 
must  it  be  to  the  suffering  soul  in  Purgatory?  Banished,  exiled  for  a 
hundred,  perhaps  a  thousand  years,  nay,  perhaps  until  the  great  judgment 
day,  from  all  communion  either  with  God  or  man  ;  with  no  one  to  cheer, 
no  one  to  console  her,  apparently  forgotten  and  cast  aside,  recognizing 
God  as  the  only  source  of  happiness ;  seeing  now  in  all  the  light  of  the 


616  ■  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

other  life  His  infinite  sweetness,  goodness,  love,  borne  on  toward  Him,  as 
the  torrent  is  borne  on  irresistibly  to  the  ocean,  and  yet  unable  to  attain 
her  goal,  the  poor  soul  endures  bitterness  and  torture  of  which  the  saddest 
tears  ever  shed  by  mortal  in  this  life  have  been  but  a  mockery  of  inter- 
pretation. And  who  are  they,  my  brethren,  that  endure  those  bitter 
woes  ?  They  are,  many  of  them,  your  own  nearest  and  once  dearest 
friends.  Parents,  they  are  the  children  whom  God  has  lately  taken  from 
your  festive  tables  and  your  pleasant  firesides ;  the  children  whom  you 
cherished  as  your  own  lives,  for  whose  cut  fingers  you  would  have  bar- 
tered your  own  right  hand ;  whose  slightest  trouble  shed  a  shadow  and 
gloom  over  your  minds ;  for  whom  you  would  have  freely  sacrificed  your 
very  lives.  Children,  they  are  your  parents,  the  parents  who  brought  you 
up  in  tenderness  and  love,  and  whom  you  loved  with  all  the  yearning  af- 
fection of  your  young  hearts.  Aye,  and  what  perhaps  is  more  pitiful 
still,  there  are  many  poor  souls  enduring  those  frightful  tortures,  both  of 
pain  and  loss,  who  never  knew,  even  on  earth,  the  charms  of  friendship 
or  congenial  love,  whose  sadness  and  affliction,  while  they  lived,  seemed 
to  point  them  out  as  special  marks  for  the  wrath  of  God,  and  who  now 
must  languish  in  their  dark  prison  for  centuries  before  one  ray  of  consola- 
tion shall  beam  upon  their  chastened  souls.  There  are  those  who  died 
when  all  who  knew  them  had  passed  away,  and  who,  dying,  did  not  leave 
one  behind  to  say,  "  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  their  souls."  There  are 
those  who  went  down  into  the  deep  sea  in  the  dead  of  night,  unknown  or 
forgotten,  for  whose  eternal  rest  no  prayer  of  a  friend  shall  ever  ascend 
before  the  throne  of  God ;  there  are  the  soldiers  who  died  in  battle  in 
foreign  lands,  of  whose  death  no  one  knows,  or  cares  to  know,  and  for 
whom  no  requiem  shall  ever  be  sung,  for  whom  no  Pater  Noster  or  Ave 
Maria  shall  ever  appeal  to  heaven.  Oh  !  my  brethren,  how  well  may  we 
suppose  these  poor  souls  to  cry  out  in  the  words  of  the  Prophet  Jeremias, 
"  All  ye  who  pass  by  the  way,  attend  and  see  is  there  any  sorrow  like  un- 
to our  sorrow."  They  cry  out  to  us  to  ease  their  sorrows,  to  alleviate 
their  woes,  to  shorten  their  imprisonment  by  our  prayers  to  God ;  but 
they  cry  in  vain,  we  heed  them  not.  In  the  words  of  Job,  each  one  of 
them  cries  out  to  us,  "  Have  pity  on  me,  have  pity  on  me,  at  least  you 
my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  touched  me."  Parents,  have 
you  no  compassion  for  your  suffering  children,  whose  slightest  pang  you 
were  fain  to  soothe  while  they  dwelt  amongst  you  ?  Children,  is  your  love 
for  your  parents  to  terminate  just  at  the  moment  that  their  real  sufferings 
commence?  When  they  were  dying  you  propped  their  pillows,  and 
poured  the  balm  of  consolation  into  their  breaking  hearts.  Is  your 
solicitude  to  cease  when  they  really  want  your  assistance?  Death  is  but 
a  painted  affliction  in  comparison  to  what  they  suffer  now.     What  says 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  617 

St.  Cyril  on  this  subject  ?  "  If  all  the  woes,  and  torments,  and  afflictions 
that  could  be  conceived  in  this  world  were  united  together,  in  comparison 
to  the  pains  of  Purgatory  they  would  be  even  a  sweet  consolation."  And 
those  are  the  sufferings  your  nearest  and  dearest  friends  endure.  "  Have 
pity  on  me,"  they  exclaim,  "  have  pity  on  me,  at  least  you  my  friends,  for 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  touched  me." 

And  what  of  those  who  have  no  friends-?  Will  you  pay  no  heed  to 
their  entreaties?  You  would  throw  a  penny  to  a  beggar  in  the  street  to 
alleviate  a  mere  passing  trouble,  to  supply  a  trifling  want ;  will  you  be 
deaf  to  the  voice  of  those  sufferings  which  in  one  moment  exceed  all  the 
agonies  of  a  lifetime  here?  Oh!  my  brethren,  our  indifference  to  the 
dead  is  cruel  in  the  extreme  !  Their  case  will  probably  be  ours,  and  that 
very,  very  soon.  What  will  be  our  agony,  then,  if  we  find  that  of  all 
those  who  knew  us  on  earth,  not  one  ever  cares  to  remember  us  in  that  land 
of  woe ;  that  no  one  is  found  to  utter  a"  Lord,  have  mercy  on  our  souls!  " 
What  would  you  think  of  a  man  who,  passing  by  the  bank  of  a  river  and 
seeing  a  fellow-creature  drowning,  would  not  stretch  out  a  hand  to  save 
him,  when  only  a  hand  would  do  it  ?  Would  you  not  denounce  him  as 
more  than  a  barbarian?  And  what  will  you  think  of  yourselves,  when 
you  pass  by  the  way,  when  you  see  your  fellow-creatures  bathed  in  an 
ocean  of  fire,  and  never  utter  one  "  Our  Father  "  for  their  souls,  when 
that  one  prayer  might  snatch  them  from  the  abyss,  and  restore  them  to 
the  eternal  joys  of  heaven  ?  It  is,  perhaps,  not  so  much  through  cruelty 
as  want  of  thought.  Henceforward,  then,  my  brethren,  resolve  never  to 
forget  this  great  duty  of  charity  to  your  afflicted  brethren  in  Purgatory. 
Whenever  you  pray,  strive  to  remember  them,  at  morning  and  at  night, 
in  all  your  prayers  and  aspirations  to  God.  Imitate  the  Church  in  her 
solicitude  for  the  dead.  To  almost  all  the  prayers  in  her  Liturgy  is  ap- 
pended some  short  appeal  for  those  who  died  in  the  Lord,  that  they  may 
be  loosed  from  their  sins ;  and  on  one  day  in  each  year,  throughout  the 
whole  world,  she  stretches  forth  the  hands  of  her  children  in  entreaty  to 
the  Lord.  From  every  altar  of  her  churches  ascends  a  heartfelt  prayer 
that  mercy  may  be  extended  to  the  dead.  Joining  with  her,  let  us  beg 
of  God  that  He  may  grant  them  eternal  rest  in  the  bosom  of  His  glory; 
that  in  His  infinite  mercy  He  may  restore  them  to  that  land  where  weep- 
ing and  sorrow  shall  be  no  more,  and  where  they  may  intercede  in  turn 
for  us,  that  quitting  this  valley  of  tears  we  may  taste  the  eternal  sweet- 
ness of  God  in  the  kingdom  of  His  glory. 


SERMON  ON  THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION  OF 
THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN  MARY. 

"  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour  r 
because  He  hath  regard  to  the  humility  of  His  handmaid,  therefore  shall  all 
generations  call  me  blessed :  because  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great  things 
for  me,  and  holy  is  His  name." — Luke  i.  46-49. 

•< 

EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— The  end  of  all  religion 
is  to  give  glory  to  God ;  for  this,  in  every  age,  temples  have 
been  erected ;  for  this  Bishops  and  Priests  have  been  conse- 
crated to  the  Divine  service ;  for  this  Hermits  and  Anchorites 
have  made  the  caves  of  the  desert  resound  with  sighs  of  repentance  and 
hymns  of  praise ;  for  this  the  pious  children  of  the  universal  Church  never 
cease  to  work  and  pray.  It  is  to  proclaim  the  glory  of  the  Lord  that  we 
are  assembled  here  to-night — to  announce  the  wonders  of  His  mercy  and 
His  love.  We  join  with  the  whole  Church,  during  these  eight  days,  in  cele- 
brating one  of  the  greatest  events  in  which  God's  glory  has  ever  been 
shown  forth — the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary. 
In  the  commemoration  of  this  event  we  honor  her  whom  God  has  so 
signally  distinguished  above  all  the  children  of  the  human  race ;  but  to 
Him  is  all  the  glory  and  all  the  praise,  "  To  the  King  of  ages  immortal 
and  invisible — to  God  alone  be  honor  and  glory  forever ! " — (Ep.  Tim.) 
While  we  honor  the  Saints  we  honor  God,  because  in  their  heroic  deeds 
the  marvels  of  His  grace  shine  forth.  "  God,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "  is  won- 
derful in  His  saints,"  and  the  greater  their  works  the  more  superhuman 
their  strength,  the  purer  their  lives,  the  more  magnificently  are  displayed 
the  power  and  glory  of  Him  by  whose  grace  they  attained  so  exalted  a 
degree  of  perfection.  Of  all  the  Saints  of  God,  Mary,  His  mother,  was 
the  greatest ;  she  was  not  only  spotless  in  her  very  Conception — not  only 
sinless  in  her  whole  life,  but  every  grace  and  spiritual  privilege  that  was 
ever  possessed  by  any  Saint  she  enjoyed  in  a  supereminent  degree :  and 
yet,  not  to  her  is  the  glory  of  this  sanctity,  but  to  God.  "  My  soul,"  she 
cries,  "  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my 
Saviour:  because  He  hath  regarded  the  humility  of  His  handmaid, 
therefore  shall  all  generations  call  me  blessed  ;  because  He  that  is  mighty 
hath  done  great  things  for  me,  and  holy  is  His  name."  In  celebrating, 
(618) 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  619 

therefore,  her  Immaculate  Conception,  we  join  with  her  in  giving  praise 
to  Him  who  conferred  on  her  that  stupendous  honor;  from  whose  hands 
she  issued,  without  any  merit  of  her  own,  as  the  ray  issues  from  the  sun, 
bright,  pure,  and  perfect. 

As  the  myriad  spectators  who  pass  by  the  way  behold  some  world's 
wonder  of  architectural  beauty  and  magnificence,  and  exclaim  in  amaze- 
ment, how  great  was  the  genius  of  him  who  designed  it !  so  does  all  hu- 
manity gaze  with  astonishment  at  the  immaculate  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  this  Virgin,  pure  even  in  her  Conception,  in  whose  soul  every 
grace  shines  forth  with  lustre  truly  heavenly,  and  glorifies  the  Creator, 
who  fashioned  a  being  of  perfection  so  marvellous,  so  unrivalled.  For 
however  Mary  may  have  merited  grace  and  glory,  Like  the  other  Saints, 
from  the  first  dawn  of  her  reason  her  Immaculate  Conception  was  a 
purely  gratuitous  gift  of  God,  irrespective  of  all  her  future  merits.  But 
for  Gqd  Mary  ^yould  have  been  like  any  of  ourselves,  weak  and  sinful ; 
and,  in  point  of  fact,  she  was  sentenced,  as  we  were,  to  the  guilt  and 
penalties  of  original  sin,  and  was  rescued  from  them  only  by  the  very 
same  means  that  we  were — namely,  the  merits  of  a  suffering  God.  We 
were  saved  from  sin  after  falling  into  it ;  Mary  was  so  saved  that  she 
never  fell  into  it,  even  in  her  Conception  being  spotless.  Therefore  does 
she  say,  "  My  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour,  because  He  that  is 
mighty  hath  done  great  things  for  me,  and  holy  is  His  name."  Yes,  great 
things  indeed  hath  He  done  for  her;  He  saved  her  from  the  slough  of 
sin,  into  which  all  mankind  were  cast ;  He  beautified  and  adorned  her, 
and  made  her  all  fair;  to  be  His  own  mother;  to  be  the  second  Eve; 
the  reparatrix  of  man's  lost  happiness ;  the  casket  into  which  all  the 
jewels  of  His  grace  were  to  repose ;  the  star  of  the  sea,  which  was  to  re- 
flect on  men  all  the  beauty  and  glory  of  the  Sun  of  Justice;  the  model 
on  which  the  whole  human  race  might  fashion  their  souls  for  future 
glory :  in  a  word,  the  soul  in  which  God's  Holy  Spirit  found  its  most 
gorgeous,  its  best  beloved  sanctuary,  as  the  Son  of  God  found  her  chaste 
womb  the  choicest  resting-place  for  His  Divinity. 

My  brethren,  it  has  ever  been  the  belief  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and 
is  now  an  article  of  our  holy  faith,  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  con- 
ceived in  her  mother's  womb  without  the  slightest  stain  of  sin.  This  was 
the  first  step  taken  by  God  in  the  work  of  our  Redemption,  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  pure  being,  who  would  be  worthy  to  bring  His  Divine  Son  into 
the  world  that  He  might  shed  His  blood  for  man's  salvation.  We,  there- 
fore, share  with  her  the  honor  we  give  to  God,  in  recognition  of  the  great 
blessing  of  our  deliverance  from  sin  and  hell. 

As  she  was  to  bring  forth  Him  who  was  purity  itself,  it  was  only  in 
accordance  with  His  honor  that  she  should  be  the  purest  of  all  beings. 


^20  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

that  she  should  be  free  from  all  taint  of  sin,  which  He  came  to  destroy. 
When  God  directed  in  the  old  law  that  a  temple  should  be  raised  in  His 
honor,  where  He  was  to  reside,  not  in  substance,  but  only  in  figure,  what 
splendor,  what  magnificence  did  He  exact  in  its  construction,  and  in  its 
preparation  for  His  service!  David  was  a  great  saint,  one  of  God's  most 
chosen  servants,  a  man  whom  He  signalized  most  magnificently  by  the 
choicest  favors  of  His  mercy  and  His  love ;  and  yet,  because  David's 
hands  were  imbrued  with  the  blood  of  battles,  however  justly  fought, 
God  did  not  permit  him  to  erect  a  temple  to  His  honor;  that  exalted 
privilege  was  reserved  for  Solomon,  the  wisest  of  men,  and  the  richest  of 
monarchs.  And  when  the  temple  was  finished,  what  purifications,  what 
consecrations,  what  rites  and  ceremonies  were  deemed  necessary  for 
that  edifice,  where  only  sacrifices  were  to  be  offered  to  the  Most  High  ! 
But  Mary  was  a  creature  fashioned  by  the  Divine  Artificer  Himself,  in 
whose  body  His  Divine  Son  was  to  receive  His  conception ;  in  wl^h  He 
was  not  figuratively,  but  substantially,  to  reside,  which  was  the  flesh  and 
blood  of  which  His  were  to  be  formed.  Oh  !  what  tongue  can  tell,  what 
mind  can  conceive  her  purity,  her  holiness?  what  language  can  exagger- 
ate it,  what  homage  can  venerate  it  sufficiently  ? 

We,  in  our  weakness  of  intellect  here  below,  can  scarcely  imagine  the 
wonder  of  Divine  grace  by  which  God  exempted  Mary  from  the  stain 
of  original  sin  ;  but  we  may  form  some  notion  of  it  from  considering 
the  evils  wrought  by  sin  in  the  world,  from  which  she  was  rescued  by  His 
grace.  The  holiest  men  that  ever  lived.  His  most  cherished  and  beloved 
servants,  were  all  conceived  in  sin ;  the  great  Abraham,  the  father  of 
God's  chosen  people ;  Moses,  with  whom  the  Lord  spoke  on  Mount 
Sinai  as  a  man  is  wont  to  speak  with  his  friend  ;  the  patient  Job ;  the 
holy  David,  who  exclaimed,  "  Behold,  I  was  conceived  in  iniquities, 
and  in  sins  did  my  mother  conceive  me."  St.  John  the  Baptist,  who  was 
sent  as  an  angel  before  the  face  of  the  Redeemer,  to  prepare  the  way  for 
Him,  was  conceived  in  sin  ;  so  was  the  beloved  disciple  of  Jesus  ;  so  were 
Peter  and  Paul,  His  two  chief  apostles;  so,  in  a  word,  were  all  the 
children  of  men  born  children  of  wrath.  Sin  was  a  universal  plague, 
spreading  contagion  all  around — a  disease  congenital  to  our  souls  from 
the  earliest  dawn  of  our  existence ;  a  sea  in  which  all  were  alike  im- 
mersed ;  a  prison  in  which  all  were  confined ;  a  cloud  enveloping  in  im- 
penetrable darkness  the  souls  of  all  the  children  of  Adam  !  Mary  alone 
was  saved  from  the  general  malady.  "  Thou  art  all  fair,  my  beloved,  and 
there  is  no  stain  in  thee."  She  alone  arose  triumphant  over  sin's  destruc- 
tive sea ;  like  the  ark  of  Noah,  to  which  she  has  been  justly  compared, 
the  only  thing  of  earth  that  escaped  the  universal  deluge  ;  she  alone  was 
not  imprisoned  within  the  walls  of  guilt ;  for,  in  the  words  of  the  Psalm- 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  621 

ist  she  could  say  to  the  Almighty,  "  But  this  I  know,  that  thou  hast  a 
good  will  for  me,  because  my  enemy  shall  not  rejoice  over  me."  She 
alone  was  not  obscured  in  the  all-embracing  cloud,  or,  rather,  she  alone 
burst  from  above  it  on  the  world,  bright  and  spotless,  the  herald  of  the 
Sun  of  Justice ;  the  precursor  of  infinite  purity ;  the  harbinger  of  eternal 
light  and  life !  "  Who  is  she  that  cometh  forth  as  the  morning,  rising 
fair  as  the  moon,  bright  as  the  sun,  terrible  as  an  army  set  in  battle 
array  ?  "  Such  may  we  suppose  to  have  been  the  ecstatic  language  of 
the  angels,  when,  after  the  long  night  of  sin,  clouds  and  spiritual  dark- 
ness, they  beheld  Mary,  the  mother  of  the  coming  Redeemer,  bursting 
into  light,  fair  as  the  moon  in  the  purity  of  her  innocence,  bright  as  the 
sun  in  the  ardor  of  her  love,  terrible  as  an  army  with  serried  ranks,  with 
burnished  helmets,  and  glistening  lances,  coming  forward  to  do  battle 
with  the  hereditary  foes  of  mankind,  the  powers  of  hell,  and  the  tyranny 
of  sin,  ushering  in  the  Saviour,  the  God  of  hosts,  who  would  scatter  the 
legions  of  Lucifer ;  the  Prince  of  Peace,  who  would  blot  out  the  hand- 
writing of  sin,  and  open  to  lost  man  the  gates  of  heaven,  so  long  closed ; 
the  God  of  love,  who  would  cast  upon  the  earth  the  fire  of  His  charity 
which  should  never  be  extinguished.  It  is  by  considering  Mary  thus, 
that  we  form  some  idea  of  her  rare  prerogatives  and  her  exalted  dignity ; 
by  viewing  her  as  the  parent  to  us  of  all  those  graces  and  blessings  with- 
out which  we  should  inevitably  be  lost  forever,  and  by  the  aid  of  which 
we  may  attain  immortal  glory  and  happiness  with  our  God. 

If  we  did  not  know  for  certain,  by  the  constant  and  universal  teaching 
of  God's  Church,  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  was  conceived  immaculate,  we 
should  satisfy  ourselves  that  it  was  true,  by  barely  considering  that  noth- 
ing was  more  natural  and  necessary  for  God's  honor  than  that  she  should 
be  so  conceived ;  for,  could  anything  be  more  abhorrent  to  our  feelings 
than  to  suppose  that  the  Son  of  God  was  born  of  a  sinful  woman,  of  a 
woman  that  ever  knew  guilt  against  Him?  Would  it  not  be  a  reproach 
to  Him  that  His  flesh  was  the  flesh  of  one  tainted  with  iniquity? 
The  God  of  infinite  purity  could  not,  consistently  with  His  honor  and 
dignity,  be  born  of  a  woman  unless  she  was  the  purest  and  most  spotless 
being  that  ever  issued  from  His  hands ;  for,  increate  wisdom  could  not 
reside  in  a  tainted  abode.  Of  this  we  are  assured  by  the  wise  man,  who 
says,  "  Wisdom  will  not  enter  into  a  malicious  soul,  nor  dwell  in  a  body 
subject  to  sins  "  (Wisd.  i.  4).  Mary,  therefore,  who  was  destined  from  all 
eternity  to  be  the  Mother  of  God,  was  fitted  by  Him  with  every  possible 
grace ;  was  fashioned  by  Him  the  purest  of  creatures,  that  she  might  be 
worthy  of  so  exalted,  so  unparalleled  a  dignity.  "  A  bad  tree  cannot  bear 
good  fruit."  How  could  a  mother  bring  forth  infinite  purity  unless  she 
was  herself  at  all  times  pure  ?    And  who  will  say  that  God  could  not  save 


622  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

her  from  the  malediction  pronounced  by  Him  on  the  whole  human  race  r 
Who  will  say  that  He  could  not,  consistently  with  His  truth,  make  her 
an  exception  ?  Who  will  say  that  a  pure  scion  could  not,  by  a  special 
privilege,  branch  off  from  an  impure  stock?  Thou,  inspired  Job,  canst 
answer  the  question.  "  Who  can  make  him  clean,  that  is  conceived  of 
unclean  seed  ?  Is  it  not  Thou  who  only  art  ?  "  Yes,  God  made  Mary 
an  exception  to  the  whole  human  race,  that  she  might  be  a  worthy 
mother  to  His  only  Son.  Alas!  for  the  faith  of  those  who  will  allow 
Mary  no  grace,  no  degree  of  purity  above  the  other  daughters  of  Adam. 
Is  it  possible  that  the  Mother  of  the  Great  God  should  be  only  like  the 
rest  of  women,  infirm  of  nature,  and  prone  to  sin  ?  On  the  contrary, 
as  she  was  the  only  being  selected  from  the  myriads  to  be  His  mother,  is 
it  not  reasonable  that  she  should  be  distinguished  from  all  the  children  of 
men  by  some  characteristic  of  peculiar  greatness  ?  Now,  it  is  only  by 
grace  we  are  great  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  and  the  Immaculate  Conception 
was  the  only  grace  by  which  the  Blessed  Virgin  could  be  possibly  distin- 
guished from  the  rest  of  the  human  race ;  for,  if  she  were  born  in  sin,  or 
conceived  in  it,  she  would  differ  from  no  human  being;  if  she  led  a  life  of 
great  sanctity,  she  could  be  only  called  the  greatest  of  the  Saints,  but 
would  be  like  to  them,  a  creature  working,  praying,  and  meriting 
before  God.  But  by  her  being  conceived  without  sin,  God  marked  her 
out  by  a  most  striking,  unmistakable  peculiarity,  by  a  most  splendid  dig- 
nity, not  vouchsafed  even  to  the  dearest  souls  He  ever  created — a  dignity 
which  brings  her  nearest  to  Himself,  and  farthest  from  Humanity,  like 
some  brilliant  star  in  the  midst  of  the  firmament  at  the  footstool  of  the 
Almighty,  attracting  the  gaze,  and  winning  the  admiration  of  all  the 
world's  wayfarers. 

These  sentiments  in  relation  to  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary  have  prevailed  in  the  Church  from  its  earliest  founda- 
tion, and  have  never  received  any  serious  contradiction.  For  that  reason 
the  Church  did  not  think  proper  to  define  it  as  an  article  of  faith,  because 
the  Church,  for  the  most  part,  never  proceeds  to  defining  Dogmas  unless 
when  the  truth  of  her  universal  teaching  is  impugned  by  contumacious 
heretics ;  but  in  these  latter  years  the  devotion  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
became  so  intense  in  the  Church  that  there  sprang  up  a  general  desire 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  should  be  settled  on  a 
fixed,  indisputable,  and  everlasting  basis  of  belief;  and,  therefore,  the 
illustrious  Pontiff  who  now  guides,  under  God,  the  destinies  of  the 
Church,  deemed  it  fit  to  conform  to  the  prevailing  wish  of  all  his  spiritual 
children.  He  accordingly  pronounced  with  infallible  voice,  and  with  the 
enthusiastic  approbation  of  the  universal  Church  in  every  region  of  the 
earth,  that,  "  It  is  revealed  by  God,  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  in 


FATHER  BUCKLEY,  623 

the  first  moment  of  her  conception,  by  a  singular  privilege  from  God, 
free  from  all  stain  of  sin,  and  that  this  doctrine  must,  therefore,  be  firmly 
and  forever  believed  by  the  faithful."  And  if  only  in  consideration  of 
this  tribute  on  the  part  of  the  great  Pontiff  to  the  Holy  Mother  of  God, 
setting  aside  his  numerous  other  claims  to  our  love  and  veneration,  may 
we  not  this  night  justly  express  a  hope,  and  pour  forth  a  prayer,  that  she 
whom  he  has  so  much  honored,  and  whose  Divine  Son  he  has  so  gloriously 
represented  through  troubles  and  afflictions  seldom  paralleled  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Church,  may  protect  him  from  the  enemies  that  beset  his 
throne,  his  honor,  and  his  life?  that  she  may  not  suffer  the  gray  hairs  of 
the  Great  Old  Man  to  descend  in  sorrow  to  the  grave,  but  by  her  power- 
ful intercession  may  she  deliver  him  from  the  dangers  that  encompass 
him,  and  steer  him  safely  over  the  sea  of  which  she  is  the  guiding  star? 
that  he  may  present  to  mankind  an  instance  of  patience,  meekness,  and 
resignation,  triumphant,  even  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  over  all  the  fiery 
darts  of  the  wicked  one,  over  all  the  combined  powers  of  earth  and  hell  ? 
Now,  my  brethren,  for  all  the  graces  and  blessings  God  has  bestowed 
on  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  and  particularly  for  the  grace  of  her  Immacu- 
late Conception,  to  Him  be  all  honor  and  glory.  Although,  however, 
God  be  thus  supremely  and  strictly  speaking  alone  worthy  of  honor.  He 
yet  permits  us  to  pay  some  honor  to  certain  of  His  creatures,  and  to  all 
according  to  their  dignity  and  merit.  Thus,  we  are  commanded  by  Him 
to  "  honor  our  father  and  mother."  True,  finally  all  honor  redounds  to 
God,  because  without  His  grace  the  greatest  saint  that  ever  lived  might 
have  been  the  greatest  sinner.  "  There  is  no  crime,"  says  St.  Augustine, 
"  that  any  one  ever  committed,  which  any  other  man  may  not  commit, 
unless  prevented  by  the  grace  of  God."  We  honor  the  saints,  because 
by  complying  with  His  graces  they  proved  themselves  faithful  servants 
to  Him ;  they  merited  God's  approval ;  they  merited  the  enjoyment  of 
His  rewards  ;  why  should  they  not  merit  our  honor,  our  esteem,  our 
praise  ?  But  we  honor  the  Blessed  Virgin,  not  so  much  because  by  com- 
plying with  God's  grace  during  her  life  she  merited  His  love,  and  in  so 
far  was  on  a  par  with  the  other  saints ;  no,  but  we  honor  her  specially 
"because  she  was  the  Mother  of  God,  and  by  this  dignity  stood  above  all 
the  other  saints  by  an  inconceivable  height  of  grandeur.  We  never 
speak  of  her  as  Saint  Mary — we  say  Mary,  the  Mother  of  God.  The 
graces  which  she  received  from  God  to  qualify  her  for  this  dignity  were 
purely  His  gifts,  and  had  no  reference  to  her  merits,  because  she  could 
not  merit  until  she  existed.  He  selected  her  from  the  whole  human 
race  to  be  the  mother  of  His  Divine  Son,  and  enriched  her,  even  to  over- 
flowing, with  His  choicest  gifts  and  graces,  that  she  might  be  adapted 
for  the  sustainment  of  that   transcendent   dignity.      "  Hail,"   said   the 


624:  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

angel  to  her,  "  hail,  Mary,  full  of  grace."  She  would  not  be  full  of  grace 
if  any  grace  was  wanting  to  her ;  and  that  is  another  reason  for  confessing 
that  she  did  not  want  the  grace  of  Immaculate  Conception.  Even  in  a 
worldly  sense,  there  was  no  honor  of  which  she  was  not  worthy,  for  she 
was  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  oldest  and  most  glorious  monarchical 
line  in  the  world. 

If  God  Himself,  therefore,  so  much  honored  her,  what  ought  to  be  the 
expression  of  our  honor?  Will  we  honor  the  ^representatives  of  wealth, 
of  the  wretched  dross  of  this  world's  pelf,  and  refuse  to  honor  her  who 
was  the  mother  of  infinite  riches,  and  is  the  possessor  of  all  the  wealth 
of  heaven  ?  Will  men  bow  down  before  beauty,  and  sacrifice  their  very 
souls  upon  its  unhallowed  altar,  and  fail  to  do  homage  to  her  who  is  all 
fair,  and  in  whom  there  was  no  stain — the  lily  of  womanhood  amongst 
the  thorns  of  humanity  ?  Will  we  pay  reverence  to  the  learned  and  the 
wise,  and  deny  it  to  her  who  was  the  Mother  of  Wisdom  ?  Will  all  the 
world  go  out  in  its  holiday  dress  to  behold  the  spectacle  of  an  earthly 
queen — will  the  cannons  roar,  and  the  joybells  ring  when  she  comes,  and 
will  the  air  be  filled  with  shouts  of  jubilee  when  her  diadem  glitters  in 
the  sunshine,  and  yet  so  few  come  out  to  meet  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  so 
few  be  found  to  sound  her  praises,  or  swell  the  canticle  of  rejoicing  for 
her  glories?  Nay,  will  we  bend  with  devotion  over  the  tomb  of  buried 
majesty  and  queenly  splendor,  though  the  form  beneath  has  crumbled 
into  dust,  and  no  tongue  can  tell  where  the  spirit  dwells?  And  shall  we 
not  approach  with  feelings  of  veneration  the  shrine  of  her  whose  body 
was  that  from  which  the  body  of  Jesus  was  formed — the  flesh  which  the 
Word  of  God  assumed,  and  which,  in  a  state  of  incorruption,  was  taken 
up  into  His  kingdom,  and  whose  spirit  dwells  in  those  regions  of  bliss, 
where  she  is  the  Queen  of  Angels  and  of  Saints — nay,  of  heaven  itself? 
Oh !  strange  perversion  of  reason — strange  fatuity  of  irreligion  that  cries, 
"  Honor  to  whom  honor  is  due,"  and  will  refuse  it  to  the  fairest,  purest, 
queenliest  being  that  ever  issued  from  the  hand  of  God — to  God's  own 
Mother — to  her  who,  despite  her  humility,  was  forced  by  the  irresistible 
influence  of  inspiration  to  proclaim  her  own  exalted  privilege  of  being 
venerated  by  the  world.  "  Because  He  hath  regarded  the  humility  of  His 
handmaid,  therefore  shall  all  generations  call  me  blessed."  The  very 
hatred  and  contempt  which  she  receives  at  the  hands  of  those  who  despise 
our  holy  religion,  and  all  that  belongs  to  it,  should  stimulate  us  to  inten- 
sify our  feelings  of  love  and  veneration  toward  her,  that  we  may,  if  pos- 
sible, supply  by  the  excess  of  our  devotion  for  the  defective  homage  of 
our  fellow-men,  if  only  that,  by  the  ardor  of  our  attachment,  we  may 
induce  her  to  intercede  more  earnestly  for  them  to  God,  that  they  may 
be  converted  from  a  course  so  disrespectful  to  her,  so  hateful  to  God,  and 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  625 

so  injurious  to  the  interests  of  their  own  immortal  souls.  For,  alas! 
they  shall  pass  away,  and  find,  too  late,  the  error  of  their  thoughts, 
and  the  evil  of  their  deeds ;  but  Mary  will  still  be  Queen  of  Heaven, 
and  verify  her  own  prediction,  that  "  all  generations  shall  call  me 
blessed." 

With  death  man's  power  and  greatness  become  extinct,  the  power  and 
greatness  before  which  the  world  bows  down  in  most  respectful  homage  ; 
but  the  glory  of  the  saints,  and  above  all,  the  glory  of  her  who  was  "  full 
of  grace,"  shall  never  come  to  an  end ;  shall  never  be  diminished  by  a 
single  ray  of  its  effulgence.  She  shall  reign  the  Queen  of  Heaven  for  all 
eternity,  and  the  purest  and  holiest  of  the  saints.  They  who  fasted,  and 
watched,  and  wept  in  caves  and  deserts ;  they  who  lived  and  died  for 
God  alone — nay,  they  who  never  stained  the  white  robe  of  baptismal 
purity  shall  gaze  forever  with  love  and  veneration  on  her  who  was  Im- 
maculate from  the  very  dawn  of  her  Conception,  and  whose  soul,  from 
that  instant  until  her  departure  from  this  world,  was  like  a  placid  lake 
receiving  into  its  bosom  from  all  sides  the  rivers  and  the  streamlets  flow- 
ing from  the  ocean  of  God's  grace,  until  at  the  close  of  her  life  it  ebbed 
back  with  all  its  sparkling  tributaries  into  the  boundless  depths  from 
which  those  tributaries  were  derived.  All  honor,  then,  after  God,  to 
God's  holy  Mother,  to  the  Immaculate  Virgin  Mary — to  her  whom  all 
generations  shall  call  blessed,  blessed  amongst  women,  blessed  before 
she  was  born,  blessed  after  her  assumption  into  heaven  beyond  all  the 
saints  of  God,  beyond  all  the  angels  that  worship  before  the  Eternal 
Throne,  beside  which  she  reigns  and  shines  radiant  with  everlasting 
beauty. 

But,  my  brethren,  the  most  pleasing  thought  for  us  tt)-night  is,  that  it 
is  in  our  power  to  procure  in  our  behalf  the  intercession  of  that  glorious 
Virgin  before  the  Throne  of  God.  And  we  are  surely  justified  in  believ- 
ing that  He  will  never  refuse  her  prayer,  whatever  it  may  be ;  for,  how 
could  God  be  deaf  to  the  entreaties  of  her  who  gave  Him  more  glory 
than  all  the  children  of  men  ;  in  contemplating  whom  He  took  an  infinite 
delight  ?  When  God  created  the  world,  we  are  told  that  He  saw  it  was 
good :  what  must  have  been  His  complacency  in  beholding  her,  who  was 
so  faithful  to  the  graces  of  His  Holy  Spirit — who,  in  her  relation  to  His 
Divine  Son,  from  the  manger  to  the  cross,  followed  and  watched,  suffered 
and  wept  with  Him,  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  as  she  was  Sorrow's  Queen, 
who  was  in  body  and  soul  the  most  beauteous  being  that  ever  came  from 
His  creative  hand  ;  a  being  so  pure  that  were  it  possible  for  men  to  atone, 
she  alone  would  have  atoned  to  Him  for  the  inexpiable  crime  of  Eve? 
Would  that  we  were  Immaculate  as  she  was:  but,  alas!  that  is  past,  we 
can  only  emulate  her  fidelity  to  grace,  as  it  is  impossible  to  aim  at  the 


626 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


purity  of  her  soul.  Oh !  if  we  would  obtain  her  intercession,  if  we  would 
have  her  plead  for  us  with  her  whole  heart  to  God,  let  us  beg  of  her  on 
this  night,  when  earth  and  heaven  triumph  in  the  celebration  of  her  Im- 
maculate Conception,  to  pray  to  God  for  us  that  we  may  study  and  work 
for  a  purity  of  heart  which  may  make  each  one  of  us  worthy  hereafter  to 
cry  out  with  her — "  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath 
rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour,  because  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great 
things  for  me,  and  holy  is  His  name." 


SERMON   ON  THE  VALUE  OF  TIME. 

"A  little  while,  and  you  will  not  see  me." — John  xvi.  i6,  etc. 

EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— The  words  read  in  the 
Gospel  of  this  day  form  part  of  a  discourse  delivered  by  Our 
Blessed  Saviour  to  His  apostles  immediately  after  the  Last 
Supper,  and  intended  by  Him  to  prepare  them  for  the  dififi. 
culties  they  were  to  encounter  in  establishing  His  Church  upon  earth. 
Many  portions  of  that  discourse  apply  to  the  Apostles  alone,  spoken  for 
their  guidance  only ;  this,  with  many  other  parts,  is  pointed  for  our  in- 
struction as  well  as  theirs.  For  that  reason  it  is  proposed  on  this  day  for 
the  consideration  of  the  faithful,  and  is  suggested  for  the  exposition  of 
the  preachers.  The  Saviour  has  forewarned  His  apostles  of  the  great 
labors  they  should  undertake,  and  the  great  sufTerings  they  should  endure 
in  the  fulfilment  of  the  task  set  before  them.  It  was  only  meet  that  He 
should  hold  forth  to  them  the  prospect  of  repose  after  their  toils,  and  of 
joy  after  their  sorrows.  While  He  was  with  them,  weak  as  they  were  in 
faith,  and  dull  to  the  influence  of  grace,  they  were  sustained  and  glad- 
dened by  Him — sustained  by  the  invigorating  power  of  His  words ;  glad- 
dened by  the  ineffable  charms  of  His  converse.  Thus  on  one  occasion 
when,  startled  by  the  simple  force  with  which  He  foretold  the  doctrine  of 
the  Eucharist,  the  fact  that  He  was  to  give  His  flesh  and  blood  to  be 
consumed,  some  of  His  disciples  went  away  from  Him;  and  when  turn- 
ing to  the  twelve.  He  asked,  Will  you  also  go  away?  we  observe  Peter 
replying  for  them  all,  with  that  faith  and  love  which  at  all  times  so  dis- 
tinguished him,  and  exclaiming,  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go?  Thou 
hast  the  words  of  eternal  life."  Yes,  while  He  was  with  them,  they  were 
content — they  reposed  in  His  love,  they  were  enraptured  by  the  delights 
of  His  sweet  companionship.  But  they  knew  that  He  should  die;  for 
He  had  told  them.  He  now  announces  it  again,  "  A  little  while,  and  you 
shall  not  see  me."  But  the  pain  caused  by  this  announcement  He  im- 
mediately removed.     "  Again,  a  little  while,  and  you  shall  see  me." 

Now,  my  brethren,  I  wish  you  to  understand  the  full  meaning  of  these 
few  words,  and  in  explaining  them  I  am  not  so  presumptuous  as  to  in- 
terpret them  according  to  my  own  judgment ;  but  I  give  you  the  exposi- 
tion of  them  approved  by  great  Fathers  and  Doctors  in  the  Church  of 

(627) 


628  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Christ.  When  Our  Lord  says,  "  A  little  while,  and  you  shall  not  see  me," 
He  alludes  to  His  ascension  into  heaven,  by  which  He  was  to  be  removed 
from  their  sight ;  and  when  He  adds,  "  Again,  a  little  while,  and  you  shall 
see  me,"  He  points  to  His  coming  in  judgment  on  the  last  day.  Mean- 
while He  foretold  to  them  and  us  that  \{'\s  followers  should  lament 
and  weep,  while  the  "world,"  that  is,  they  who  would  know  Him  or 
love  Him  not,  "would  rejoice."  The  world,  the  sinful,  reckless  world, 
would  have  its  reward  here  in  the  pleasure  of  its  own  seeking,  but  for 
the  faithful  children  of  His  Church,  "  their  sorrow,"  at  that  second  coming, 
"  shall  be  turned  into  joy."  "  You  indeed,"  during  this  sad  pilgrimage  of  life, 
"  have  sorrow ;  but  I  will  see  you  again,  and  your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and 
your  joy  no  man  shall  take  from  you."  You  will  observe,  in  this  inter- 
pretation of  Our  Blessed  Saviour's  words,  a  very  striking,. and,  I  might 
add,  a  most  startling  truth,  and  that  is,  that  the  whole  time  elapsing  from 
His  ascension  into  heaven  until  He  comes  to  judge  mankind,  is  described 
as  "  a  little  while  ";  in  fact,  that  the  same  phrase  precisely  is  used  to  desig- 
nate both  periods  of  time,  the  last  weeks  passed  between  His  Last  Supper 
and  His  Ascension,  and  the  centuries  which  will  roll  from  His  Ascen- 
sion unto  His  reappearance  in  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat.  For  that  little 
while  the  world  will  rejoice,  for  that  little  time  the  faithful  children  of 
Christ  shall  suffer.  If,  then,  the  thousands  of  years  through  which  the 
world  will  last  are  called  only  "  a  little  while/'  alas  \  how  truly  little  is 
the  whole  of  man's  existence,  the  seventy  or  eighty  years  of  troublous 
life  in  this  world.  Yet  so  it  is.  Few  things  are  more  clearly  or  frequently 
set  forth  in  the  Sacred  Scriptures  than  the  shortness  of  time,  and  of  the 
life  of  man ;  "  a  thousand  years  in  Thy  sight,"  says  the  psalmist,  "  are  as 
yesterday  which  is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night.  Things  that  are 
counted  as  nothing  shall  their  years  be.  In  the  morning  man  shall  grow 
up  like  grass ;  in  the  morning  he  shall  flourish  and  pass  away ;  in  the 
evening  he  shall  fall,  grow  dry  and  wither." 

The  Sacred  Word  now  compares  man's  life  to  a  breath,  to  a  shadow, 
to  a  flower,  to  every  type  of  evanescence,  to  every  emblem  of  decay. 
"  My  days,"  exclaimed  Job,  "  have  been  swifter  than  a  post :  they  have 
fled  away,  and  have  not  seen  good,  they  have  passed  by,  as  ships  carrj'- 
ing  fruit,  as  an  eagle  flying  to  the  prey."  What  then  ?  is  it  better  to  join 
with  the  world  in  using  time  for  pleasures  that  pass  like  a  shadow,  or  to 
toil  and  labor,  and,  if  necessary,  to  lament  and  weep,  for  that  joy  which 
will  be  imparted  to  us  by  the  God  of  Love  on  His  second  coming,  "  when 
our  hearts  shall  rejoice,  and  our  joy  no  man  shall  take  from  us  "  ?  In  a 
word,  shall  we  spend  our  days  as  a  sower  might  scatter  chaff  which  is 
borne  away  by  the  wind,  or  shall  we  employ  them  in  laying  the  seeds  of 
good  works  to  fructify  unto  everlasting  life  ?     That  is  the  great  question 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  620 

on  which  our  whole  happiness  for  time  and  eternity  depends ;  and  it  is 
well  that  each  one  of  us  should  this  day  answer  it  for  himself. 

In  the  first  place,  my  brethren,  consider  that  time  is  the  price  of 
eternity ;  if  you  spend  your  time  well,  you  purchase  an  eternity  of  happi- 
ness ;  if  you  spend  it  ill,  you  purchase  an  eternity  of  woe.  God  created 
us  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  we  might  love  and  serve  Him  all  the 
days  of  our  life.  It  was  solely  for  this  purpose  that  God  created  time ; 
time  is  a  gratuitous  gift  of  His ;  He  was  not  obliged  to  create  any  one  of 
us.  Had  He  so  wished,  we  need  never  have  been  born.  But  He  did 
create  us  that  we  might  give  glory  to  Him  forever.  And,  alas !  what 
was  the  first  use  of  time  made  by  man  ?  The  very  first  man  that  God 
ever  created  availed  himself  of  time  for  the  purpose  of  offending  his 
Creator.  At  the  moment  that  offense  was  committed,  man  lost  the  privi- 
lege of  living ;  he  sacrificed  all  right,  such  as  it  was,  to  enjoy  one  other 
second  of  time ;  and,  by  the  inscrutable  judgment  of  God,  all  mankind, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  world,  were  doomed,  in  penalty  of  his  crime,  to  the 
same  terrible  privation.  It  was  only  by  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  that 
this  sentence  against  man  was  blotted  out ;  it  was  by  His  death  that 
time  was  brought  back  for  man.  Our  days  and  moments,  therefore,  are 
the  first  blessings  that  flow  to  us  from  the  cross.  The  time  which  we 
foolishly  squander  away  is  the  price  of  His  blood,  the  fruit  of  His  death, 
the  reward  of  His  sacrifice.  More  than  that,  by  every  sin  we  commit, 
we  incur  a  fresh  sentence  of  death,  we  sacrifice  the  privilege  of  life,  of 
time ;  as  often  as  God  ceases  to  smite  us  with  the  death-stroke,  we  receive 
from  Him  a  new  life,  that,  by  making  proper  use  of  so  great  a  blessing, 
we  may  make  reparation  for  our  past  criminal  abuse  of  time.  Every 
moment,  then,  we  receive  from  God,  after  having  sinned,  is  a  new  bless- 
ing from  God,  a  continued  miracle  of  His  mercy  and  His  love.  Clearly, 
then,  by  squandering  away  those  precious  moments,  to  which  we  have 
no  title,  by  devoting  them  to  indolence  and  sin,  we  offer  a  grievous, 
wanton,  deliberate  insult  to  the  great,  the  good,  the  just,  the  all-merciful 
God, 

My  brethren,  with  some  Christians,  the  thought  of  the  ofifense  offered 
to  God  by  sin  is  a  motive  sufficient  to  excite  them  to  amendment ;  while 
others  are  not  moved  except  by  the  consideration  of  its  evil  consequences 
to  themselves.  Let  us,  therefore,  see  what  are  the  consequences  entailed 
upon  man  by  the  misemployment  of  time.  Time,  I  have  said,  was  given 
to  us  by  God  for  no  other  purpose  than  that,  by  using  it  properly,  we 
might  procure  for  ourselves  an  eternity  of  happiness  hereafter.  Any 
man,  therefore,  who  neglects  to  avail  himself  of  this  inestimable  blessing, 
practically  says,  I  do  not  care  for  eternal  happiness — I  do  not  care  to 
give  glory  to  God ;  I  am  satisfied  to  be  lost  forever.     What  folly,  what 


630  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

impiety  can  be  more  reprehensible  than  this  ?  What  would  you  say  to  a 
man  of  the  world,  who  could,  by  a  little  industry,  amass  for  himself  a 
large  fortune,  but  who  preferred  poverty  and  indolence  to  wealth  and 
rational  comfort  ?  Would  you  not  denounce  him  as  a  fool  ?  And  alas  ! 
what  in  comparison  is  the  folly  of  him  who,  possessing  an  immortal  soul, 
goes  through  life  like  the  beast  of  the  field,  seeking  only  to  gratify  his 
animal  propensities  and  passions,  heedless  of  the  future — the  eternal 
future ;  born  to  an  immortal  crown,  yet  content  to  be  a  slave  ;  heir  ta 
eternal  glory,  yet  resigned  to  eternal  damnation  ?  And  this  is  the  folly 
you  are  all  guilty  of  when  you  neglect  to  employ  your  time  in  the  prac- 
tice of  piety  and  virtue.  Every  moment  of  time  is  more  precious  than 
treasures  of  gold.  Many  a  man  purchased  an  eternity  of  happiness  by 
the  proper  use  of  one  second  of  time  ;  by  yielding,  in  one  second,  to  the 
grace  of  God  ;  by  a  sudden  conversion  of  his  heart ;  by  suffering  a  mar- 
tyr's death  ;  by  the  performance  of  one  heroic  act  of  love  for  his  Maker: 
and  those  are  the  priceless  moments  the  sinner  squanders !  Those  mo- 
ments will  never  return — once  fled  they  are  passed  forever  ;  and,  what  is 
more,  for  every  moment  man  must  render  a  strict  account  to  his  Eternal 
Judge  on  the  last  day. 

These  observations  I  make,  my  brethren,  to  show  you  the  value  of 
time.  By  making  proper  use  of  it  we  procure  an  eternity  of  bliss  here- 
after. See  what  happiness  is  conferred  on  man  by  the  proper  use  of  it, 
even  here  below !  By  employing  our  time  according  to  the  will  of  God, 
we  fulfil  the  end  of  our  creation,  we  give  glory  to  God,  we  enrich  our 
souls  with  virtues,  we  blot  out  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  thus  we  are  happy. 
God  never  intended  that  man  should  be  unhappy.  Being  Himself  a  God 
of  eternal  and  infinite  goodness  and  love,  it  would  be  inconsistent  with 
His  nature  to  wish  unhappiness  to  any  of  His  creatures ;  and  it  will  be 
found,  if  any  one  takes  the  trouble  to  search,  that  those  only  are  miser- 
able who  live  in  the  violation  of  His  commandments,  that  is,  who  mis- 
employ their  time.  The  generality  of  men  are  unhappy  because  they  do 
not  understand  the  value  of  time,  because  they  neglect  to  learn  it.  They 
seem  to  think  that  man  was  born  to  wretchedness  and  woe,  and  that  the 
great  object  of  his  life  should  be  to  dissipate  his  thought  from  sadness, 
by  spending  his  time  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure.  They  follow  out  their 
reasoning ;  they  purchase  it  at  the  sacrifice  of  health,  of  wealth,  of  con- 
science, of  reputation,  of  eternity.  They  traverse  the  whole  world  in 
pursuit  of  it ;  but  alas !  they  find  it  not ;  for,  to  borrow  the  idea  even  of 
a  heathen  philosopher,  the  black  phantom  of  care  sits  behind  their  sad- 
dle through  every  whirl  of  the  chase.  The  end  comes;  they  find  they 
have  been  pursuing  an  ignis  fatiius,  while  in  the  heaven  above  them  the 
l..;ht  of  eternal  peace  and  joy  gleams  with  a  mild  and  genial  radiance,  in 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  631 

which  repose  the  elect  of  God,  themselves  descending  to  the  regions  of 
everlasting  wretchedness  and  gloom. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  are  the  sensations  of  those  who  employ  their 
time  as  God  wills?  Where  shall  we  find  them?  Either  in  the  turmoil 
of  the  world,  or  the  seclusion  of  the  cloister.  In  the  world,  the  model 
man,  who  wins  the  admiration  even  of  the  vicious  and  depraved,  is  he,  it 
matters  not  what  niay  be  his  position  in  life,  who  keeps  the  command- 
ments of  God,  who  labors  industriously  at  his  occupation  or  profession, 
not  to  amass  wealth,  but  to  secure  a  competence  for  himself  and  his 
family  ;  who  does  all  he  does  for  God's  greater  honor  and  glory.  Think 
you  not  that  man  is  happy  ?  Aye,  and  you  can  never  comprehend  the 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  that  man's  mind  until  you  go  and  do  likewise. 

Go  to  the  cloister,  where  time  is  turned  to  its  best  account,  where 
every  moment  transmutes  a  thought,  word,  or  deed,  into  a  golden  merit, 
where  indolence  is  unknown,  and  labor  is  the  rule  of  life.  Do  we  find 
happiness  there?  Oh!  yes,  as  it  is  nowhere  else  to  be  found;  pure, 
serene,  and  bright  as  a  crystal  river  in  the  sunshine  of  heaven.  Desti- 
tute of  all  good  and  enjoyment  of  this  world,  these  humble  souls  may 
be  supposed  to  be  wretched ;  but  no,  their  poverty,  their  meekness,  and 
humility  are  the  true  source  of  their  happiness.  "  Learn  of  me,"  says 
our  Lord,  "  to  be  meek  and  humble  of  heart,  and  you  shall  find  rest  for 
your  souls."  Thus  we  find  that  whether  in  the  world  or  the  cloister, 
true  happiness  is  only  found  in  the  practice  of  virtue  and  good  works ;  in 
other  words,  the  proper  use  of  the  great  gift  of  time. 

And  yet  this  is  the  blessing  which  worldlings  feel  at  so  great  a  loss 
how  to  employ.  So  blind  are  they  to  the  value  of  time,  that  they  do 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it.  They  have  invented  various  phrases  to 
indicate  what  a  burden  it  is.  They  ask,  how  shall  we  kill  time?  What 
shall  we  do  with  ourselves  to-day?  Time  hangs  heavy,  they  say,  on 
their  hands ;  they  are  bored  for  something  to  do  ;  they  suffer  from  ennui, 
they  can  do  nothing ;  they  wish  it  were  to-morrow,  next  month,  next 
summer  or  winter,  when  they  might  enjoy  their  favorite  pastimes.  Oh ! 
my  brethren,  is  this  the  language  of  Christians  ?  Nothing  to  do  !  How 
many  things  has  a  Christian  to  do  !  Has  he  not  to  bless  and  praise  God? 
to  atone  for  his  sins?  to  edify  his  neighbor?  to  succor  the  poor?  to  visit 
the  sick  and  comfort  the  afflicted  ?  and  a  thousand  other  proper  and 
peculiar  duties  ?  The  criminal  who  is  sentenced  to  death  knows  the 
value  of  time!  he  is  not  at  a  loss  how  to  employ  it — for  him  the  moments 
speed  away  with  wings  of  lightning.  He  sits  not  down  idly  and  listlessly, 
at  a  loss  for  occupation.  Every  second  he  turns  to  account — he  prays 
and  weeps,  bewailing  the  manifold  sinfulness  of  an  ill-spent  life,  with 
tears  of  true  repentance.     So  well  does  he  understand  the  value  of  time 


632  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

that  he  would  fain  have  more  and  more  of  it  to  pursue  the  good  work  of 
reconciliation  with  his  offended  God ;  but  as  his  time  is  short  and  fixed, 
he  makes  up  for  its  shortness  by  the  intensity  of  his  fervor ;  banishing  all 
thoughts  of  the  world,  he  lives  only  for  repentance,  for  heaven,  for  God. 
This  is  the  very  light,  my  brethren,  in  which  we  ought  to  regard  time, 
for  we  are  all  like  that  criminal,  under  sentence  of  death ;  the  only  differ- 
ence being  that  while  he  is  forewarned,  we  are  uncertain  of  the  hour  of 
our  departure :  hence,  like  him,  however,  we  know  that  our  time  is  very, 
very  short.  Like  him  we  are  condemned  for  our  crimes ;  we  have  thou- 
sands of  sins  to  expiate,  vices  to  cancel,  and  virtues  to  acquire.  Were 
we  assured  that  we  should  not  die  for  a  certain  long  time,  we  might  post- 
pone the  hour  of  conversion,  but  alas,  we  know  not  when  the  fatal  bolt 
may  be  launched  from  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  ;  and  we  have  it  on  the 
word  of  Our  Blessed  Lord  Himself,  that  it  shall  come  at  the  hour  when 
we  least  expect  it.  Are  we  not  then  guilty  of  the  most  unpardonable 
folly  in  frittering  away  our  precious  time  in  crying  out  that  it  hangs 
heavily  on  our  hands,  that  we  do  not  know  how  to  spend  it,  when  we 
should,  by  proper  use  of  it,  be  laying  up  for  ourselves  treasures  of  bliss 
for  a  never-ending  eternity  ?  Oh !  let  us  not  provoke  by  our  indolence 
and  sloth  the  Great  Judge  in  whose  hands  is  our  eternal  destiny,  lest  His 
justice  triumph  over  His  mercy,  and  He  anticipate  in  His  wrath  the 
execution  of  the  sentence  which  He  only  postpones  in  the  infinite  pleni- 
tude of  His  goodness  and  His  love. 

Nevertheless,  my  brethren,  let  no  one  imagine  that  we  are  bound  to 
spend  every  moment  of  our  time  in  the  exercise  of  prayer  or  devotion. 
Such  a  thing  would  be  impossible  to  man,  and  God  does  not  exact  it. 
There  are  times  when  the  body  needs  repose,  and  the  mind  relaxation ; 
and  these,  so  far  from  being  a  waste  of  time,  are  frequently  a  duty  which 
it  would  be  even  sinful  to  neglect.  Recreation  and,  innocent  amusement 
are,  in  fact,  necessary,  because  they  enable  one  to  pursue  with  greater 
facility  the  serious  works  imposed  by  social  or  religious  obligations.  But 
the  great  mistake  men  commit  is,  that  they  make  amusement  the  princi- 
pal, and  sometimes  the  sole  end  and  aim  of  their  existence ;  they  live  to 
eat,  to  idle,  to  read  frivolous  books,  to  dress  for  admiration,  to  move  in 
the  circles  of  fashion,  to  visit  and  be  visited,  to  win  praise,  honors,  titles, 
to  kill  time,  and  laugh,  as  they  say,  the  weary  hours  away.  Each  pursues 
his  own  favorite  pleasure,  that  is,  indulges  his  own  favorite  passions. 
Each  falls  down  and  adores  the  idol  himself  has  made,  while  the  true 
God  who  created  him  is  ignored,  dishonored,  insulted,  and  despised. 

Oh !  then,  my  brethren,  think,  ere  it  is  too  late,  of  the  great  interests 
involved  for  you  in  the  employment  of  time.  Do  you  wish  to  be  happy 
here  **    Spend  your  time  well.     Do  you  wish  to  love  and  be  loved  by 


FATHER  BUCKLEY. 


633 


God?  Use  the  time  He  has  given  you  as  it  ought  to  be  used.  It  re- 
quires no  great  effort ;  it  only  requires  that  whatever  you  do,  whether 
you  eat,  drink,  or  sleep,  you  should  do  all  for  the  honor  and  glory  of 
God,  and  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  Have  you  misspent  the  past  ? 
It  is  not  too  late  to  begin.  Why  stand  you  all  the  day  idle  ?  Know  you 
not  that  he  who  comes  at  the  eleventh  hour  receives  the  same  reward  as 
he  who  worked  all  day  ?  Work,  then,  ere  the  night  comes  when  no  man 
can  work.  Work  for  God ;  and  He  who  never  belied  His  promise  will 
be  your  eternal  reward.  Blessed  is  the  servant  whom  when  his  Master 
comes.  He  shall  find  watching.  Amen,  I  say  to  you,  He  will  place  him 
over  all  His  possessions. 


SERMON  ON  HUMAN  RESPECT. 

Now,  when  John  had  heard  in  prison  the  works  of  Christ,  sending  two  of  his  dis- 
ciples, he  said  to  Him :  '  Art  thou  He  that  art  to  come,  or  look  we  for  another  ? ' 
And  Jesus  making  answer  said  to  them :  '  Go  and  relate  to  John  what  you  have 
seen  and  heard,  the  blind  see,  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf 
hear,  the  dead  rise  again,  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them,  and  blessed 
is  he  that  shall  not  be  scandalized  in  me.' "  Words  read  in  the  Gospel  of  this 
day, — Matthew  ii.  2,  and  following  verse. 

jEARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN:— It  is  to  the  concluding 
words  of  this  text  that  I  would  invite  your  particular  atten- 
tion on  this  evening — "  Blessed  is  he  that  shall  not  be  scan- 
dalized in  me."  After  all  the  miracles  our  Blessed  Redeemer 
had  wrought,  after  He  had  made  the  blind  to  see,  the  lame  to  walk,  the 
deaf  to  hear,  the  dead  to  rise  again.  He  yet  anticipates  that  many  shall 
be  scandalized  at  His  doctrine  and  at  His  life ;  that  the  stranger  to  His 
creed  shall  blush  to  embrace  the  gospel  of  the  cross ;  that  many  of  His 
own  pretended  followers  shall  be  ashamed  of  the  poverty  of  Bethlehem, 
and  the  ignominy  of  Calvary ;  and  so  strongly  does  He  feel  for  the  dis- 
graceful weak-mindedness  and  sinfulness  of  such  unhappy  men,  that  He 
promises  an  eternal  reward  to  such  as  shall  escape  the  snares  to  which 
they  have  fallen  victims :  *'  Blessed,"  He  says,  "  is  he  that  shall  not  be 
scandalized  in  me."  Nor  were  His  anticipations  unfounded,  for  St.  Paul 
laments  that  the  doctrine  of  Christ  crucified  should  be  unto  the  Jews 
indeed  "  a  stumbling-block,  and  unto  the  Gentiles  foolishness."  But  why 
recur  to  St.  Paul  for  a  proof  of  the  existence  of  such  weakness  and  folly, 
when  we  see  the  same  vices  exhibiting  every  day  under  our  own  eyes? 
We  see  men  of  large  intellect  and  cultivated  minds  hesitating  to  enter  the 
fold  of  the  true  Church,  although  convinced  of  its  Divine  institution,  hesi- 
tating lest,  by  taking  this  final  step,  they  may  forsooth  incur  the  indigna- 
tion of  their  friends,  the  contempt  of  their  associates,  the  loss  of  their 
temporal  dignity  or  possessions ;  they  are  scandalized  in  Jesus  Christ. 
We  see  amongst  the  children  of  the  Church  many  who  are  Catholics  by 
the  accident  of  faith  or  of  early  training,  but  who,  led  away  by  pride,  by 
human  respect,  by  shame  of  the  heretic  or  unbeliever,  blush  to  profess 
openly  that  faith  in  which  they  inwardly  believe ;  they  join  in  the  scofif 
and  the  jeer  with  which  religion  and  its  Founder  and  its  ministers  are 
(634) 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  635 

ridiculed  ;  they  argue  on  the  doubts  and  re-echo  the  sophisms  invented 
by  conscience,  that  would  fain  slumber  in  the  belief  that  no  God  exists  \ 
they  fear  if  they  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  or  pray  with  exterior  devo- 
tion, that  the  smile  or  the  jest  may  be  raised  at  their  expense ;  afraid  on 
the  one  hand  to  displease  their  friends  and  incur  their  censure ;  and,  on 
the  other,  afraid  lest  they  may  bring  down  on  their  unhappy  souls  the  in- 
dignation of  that  God  whom  they  insult  by  such  wanton  cowardice  and 
such  miserable  shame. 

Indeed  there  are  few  of  us,  my  brethren,  who  are  not  occasionally  the 
victims  of  human  respect.  We  sometimes  fear  man  more  than  God.  In 
order,  therefore,  that  we  may  correct  this  vicious  tendency,  and  that  we 
may  merit  the  approbations  of  Him  who  has  said,  '*  Blessed  is  he  that 
shall  not  be  scandalized  in  me,"  let  us  consider  first,  the  insult  that  is 
offered  to  the  majesty  of  God  by  human  respect,  and  then  the  folly  and 
impropriety  of  suffering  ourselves  to  be  influenced  in  any  part  of  our 
conduct  by  the  fears  of  what  the  world  may  think  or  say  concerning  us. 

I,  Dearly  beloved  brethren,  we  were  placed  by  Almighty  God  in  this 
world  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  we  might  love  and  serve  Him  with 
our  whole  hearts,  and  with  our  whole  souls.  This  is  the  duty  of  every 
human  being,  no  matter  in  what  age  he  may  exist,  no  matter  for  what 
greatness  or  lowliness,  for  what  riches  or  poverty  he  may  be  distinguished. 
"Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  thy  whole  heart,  and  with  thy 
whole  soul,  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  thy  neigh- 
bor as  thyself."  This  is  the  great  commandment  addressed  by  God  alike 
to  all  men.  Any  man,  therefore,  and  much  more,  any  Christian,  who 
through  fear  or  shame  of  his  fellow-man,  neglects,  when  occasion  requires, 
to  manifest  his  love  for  God,  or  for  his  neighbor,  offers  a  deliberate  insult 
to  the  majesty  of  his  Creator;  he  prefers  the  esteem  of  his  fellow-man  to 
the  esteem  of  God ;  he  apprehends  the  sneer  or  the  contempt  of  some 
imbecile  fellow-creature,  and  dreads  not  the  anger  of  the  Almighty ;  he 
abides  by  the  judgment  of  the  world  in  preference  to  the  judgment  of  the 
great  and  living  God.  All  created  things  united  together  bear  no  com- 
parison to  God,  and  yet  the  victim  of  human  respect  prefers  the  opinion 
of  one  miserable  fraction  of  humanity  to  the  opinion  of  the  mighty 
Lord  of  Heaven,  by  whose  breath  all  created  things  sprang  into  existence. 
What  greater  insult  than  this  could  be  offered  to  God  ? 

He  who  is  unduly  influenced  by  human  respect  transfers  the  allegiance 
he  owes  to  God  to  every  human  being  who  may  claim  it,  be  he  heretic 
or  infidel ;  he  is  thus  reduced  to  a  most  miserable  slavery  ;  for  the  ordi- 
nary condition  of  the  slave  is  to  have  but  one  master,  whereas  the  victim 
of  human  respect  has  as  many  masters  as  he  has  associates  whose  appro- 
bation he  seeks,  whose  anger  or  censure  he  dreads,  whose  sneer  or  deri- 


636  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

sion  he  is  careful  to  escape.  Such  a  total  and  capricious  sacrifice  of  one's 
own  conscientious  convictions  is  nothing  short  of  blank  idolatry ;  for 
what  else  is  idolatry  but  transferring  our  homage  from  the  Creator  to  the 
creature?  Nay,  the  idolater  has  some  excuse,  for  he  professes  to  act 
according  to  his  conscience,  although  that  conscience  is  misguided ;  but 
the  slave  of  human  respect  acts  against  his  conscience — he  does  exactly 
what  he  knows  to  be  wrong,  he  knows  how  damnation  is  incurred,  and 
he  wantonly  incurs  it.  How  forcibly  does  such  prevarication  remind  us 
of  the  language  in  which  the  Royal  Prophet  denounces  the  idols  of  his 
day :  "  They  have  mouths  and  speak  not,  they  have  feet  and  walk  not, 
they  have  eyes  and  see  not,  they  have  ears  and  hear  not." 

Those  who  are  influenced  by  human  respect  have  tongues  that  utter 
no  sentiments  but  those  which  others  may  applaud ;  they  have  ears  that 
watch  to  catch  the  floating  opinion  of  the  crowd,  that  their  own  may  be 
found  according  to  the  vulgar  standard ;  they  have  eyes  that  see  not  their 
own  contemptible  subserviency,  and  their  own  wretched  degradation  ; 
they  have  feet  that  walk  not  in  the  ways  of  God,  but  follow  in  the  wake 
of  those  that  insult  and  deride  Him.  Shameful  servitude !  infinitely 
more  degrading  than  any  physical  bondage  to  which  poverty  or  even 
crime  subjects  the  outcast  of  society  or  the  victims  of  the  law. 

One  case,  in  which  human  respect  most  apmmonly  exercises  its  per- 
nicious influence  is,  where  a  maa  has  been  in  the  pursuit  of  sin  for  years, 
and  who  is  now  sincerely  desirous  to  return  to  God,  but  who  is  deterred 
from  the  work  of  conversion  by  the  fear  that  his  new  conversion  of  life 
may  excite  the  ridicule  of  those  with  whom  he  had  been  associated  in  his 
former  career  of  vice.  What  an  insult  does  this  wretched  man  offer  to 
God  by  his  despicable  fears  and  miserable  apprehensions  !  He  knows  that 
he  ought  to  return  to  God ;  that,  though  late  his  return,  yet  God  receives 
the  sinner  at  any  hour;  he  knows  that  sin  brings  nothing  to  the  soul  but 
disappointment,  sorrow,  and  anguish ;  that  it  is  better  now  to  brave  all 
difificulties  and  turn  his  thoughts  heavenward,  where  alone  true  peace  and 
comfort  are  to  be  found;  his  mind  is  made  up ;  farewell  sin,  welcome 
God ;  but  he  just  then  remembers  how  he  must  forsake  his  bad  compan- 
ions ;  how  he  must  not  now  sit  long  and  drink  deep  as  of  old ;  how  the 
blasphemous  exclamations  and  obscene  jest  must  henceforward  be  met 
with  a  frown  instead  of  a  smile ;  how  his  penitent  air  will  afford  his  boon 
companions  an  occasion  for  ribald  mirth  and  sarcastic  joking ;  how  he 
must  absent  himself  from  the  jovial  gathering  to  pray,  or  to  confess,  or  to 
receive  the  Body  of  His  Lord,  and  how  his  absence  will  be  remarked,  and 
many  a  scurrillous  comment  greet  his  return  to  the  festive  throng.  The 
temptation  is  too  strong ;  his  self-love  is  too  deeply  rooted  ;  he  gives  up 
the  idea  of  conversion  for  some  other  occasion,  which,  like  the  ignis  fatuuSj 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  637 

is  always  present  to  his  views,  but  is  constantly  receding  before  him : 
he  returns  to  his  old  haunts  and  his  old  fellow-sinners ;  he  relapses  into 
all  his  former  vices  with  a  renovated  zest,  and  pursues  damnation  with 
an  energy  and  zeal  that,  if  turned  in  the  opposite  direction,  would  earn 
for  him  a  martyr's  crown,  and  a  martyr's  everlasting  glory.  What  an  in- 
sult does  this  miserable  man  offer  to  God !  he  prefers  the  esteem  of  some 
few  sinful,  misguided  men  to  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  his  Great 
Creator ! 

But  the  insult  to  God  is  scarcely  less  reprehensible  than  the  folly  and 
impropriety  of  those  who  allow  themselves  to  be  influenced  in  religious 
matters  by  human  respect.  For  such  persons  seek  to  meet  by  their  con- 
duct the  approval  of  all  those  with  whom  they  come  in  contact.  Now, 
this  is  perfectly  impossible,  for,  live  as  you  please,  lead  a  life  of  virtue  or 
of  sin,  and  you  cannot.  Do  your  best,  conciliate  the  esteem  and  approval 
of  all  men ;  if  you  are  virtuous,  the  wicked  will  sneer  at  and  deride  you, 
no  matter  how  they  may  internally  approve ;  if  you  are  wicked  and 
worldly,  the  virtuous  and  good  will  pity  and  reprove  you.  Since,  there- 
fore, you  cannot  be  commended  by  all  mankind,  why  not  prefer  the  ap- 
probation of  the  good,  especially  as  your  own  conscience  internally 
approves  the  verdict  they  pronounce?  It  is  impossible  that  men  should 
all  agree  in  any  one  point ;  their  passions  and  prejudices  will  always  pre- 
vent a  cordial  union  of  their  opinions.  Do  you  seek  to  amalgamate  ele- 
ments essentially  discordant?  You  care  not  for  the  observations  of  men 
in  the  ordinary  transactions  of  life.  Why  will  you  pay  them  such  defer- 
ence when  the  great  question  of  your  eternal  salvation  is  at  stake  ?  Sup- 
pose all  the  world  condemned  your  conduct,  what  matters  it  to  you  when 
God  approves?  Men  will  pass  away,  and  God  remains.  "  What  art  thou," 
says  the  Prophet  Isaiah,  "  that  thou  should  be  afraid  of  a  mortal  man, 
and  of  the  son  of  man,  who  shall  wither  away  like  grass?"  Why  not 
choose  rather  the  spirit  of  the  penitent  Daniel  ?  "  I  covered  my  soul  with 
fasting;  and  it  was  made  a  reproach  to  me;  and  I  made  haircloth  my 
garments,  and  I  became  a  by-word  to  them.  They  that  sat  in  the  gate 
spoke  against  me,  and  they  that  drank  wine  made  me  there  sing."  But 
how  was  the  royal  penitent  affected  by  the  contempt  of  his  enemies? 
"  As  for  me,"  he  says,  "  my  prayer  is  to  Thee,  O  Lord."  How  different 
also  was  the  feeling  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  "  With  me  it  is  a  very  small 
thing  to  be  judged  by  you,"  he  says  to  the  Corinthians,  and  what  was  his 
glory?  "  I  will  glory  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the 
world  is  crucified  to  me,  and  I  to  the  world."  Our  Divine  Redeemer 
Himself  gives  us  a  striking  example  of  the  boldness  and  constancy  with 
which  we  should  confess  our  faith  before  men.  When  asked  by  Caiphas 
whether  the  accusations  of  those  who  were  suborned  against  Him  were 


638  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

true  or  false,  He  answers  nothing ;  but  when  adjured  by  the  name  of  the 
living  God  to  confess  if  He  were  indeed  the  Son  of  God,  see  how,  in  refer- 
ence to  that  holy  name,  He  makes  a  full  and  candid  confession  of  the 
truth,  teaching  all  His  followers  to  imitate  His  example,  and  never  to  be 
ashamed  of  their  holy  faith.  Little  did  the  early  martyrs  care  for  human 
respect ;  they  left  their  weeping  friends  behind ;  they  heeded  not  the 
sighs  of  an  infidel  father,  or  a  pagan  mother ;  they  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  entreaties  of  friends,  who  thought  them  little  less  than  mad ;  they 
went  forward  boldly  to  their  doom,  and  with  smiles  on  their  lips,  and  hope 
beaming  in  their  eyes,  they  bedewed  the  scaffold  or  the  circus  with  their 
blood,  while  their  souls  passed  triumphant  before  the  throne  of  the 
Eternal  God ! 

In  fact,  the  approval  of  the  world  is  the  best  proof  that  a  man's  con- 
duct is  not  conformable  to  religion,  nor  pleasing  to  the  Almighty,  and 
the  condemnation  of  the  world  is  the  very  recompense  of  virtue,  and  the 
most  indubitable  proof  of  its  sincerity.  The  views  of  the  world,  and  those 
of  God,  are  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other;  what  the  world  ap- 
proves, God  condemns.  The  piety  of  him  who  is  praised  by  the  world 
must  be  always  suspected.  "  If  you  had  been  of  the  world,"  says  our 
Divine  Redeemer,  "the  world  would  love  its  own;  but  because  you  are 
not  of  the  world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the 
world  hateth  you."  You  heeded  not  the  opinions  of  the  world  when  you 
walked  in  the  ways  of  sin ;  is  it  rational  to  fear  them  when  you  walk  in 
the  paths  of  virtue ?  Ah!  are  you  timid  and  ashamed  when  invited  to 
give  glory  to  the  Lord  of  all  ?  Of  whom  then  are  you  ashamed  ?  Do 
you  blush  to  give  glory  to  God,  who  created  all  things? — who,  in  the 
language  of  the  Psalmist,  "  is  clothed  with  light  as  with  a  garment,  who 
stretcheth  out  the  heavens  as  a  pavilion,  who  maketh  the  clouds  His 
chariot,  and  walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  winds."  Do  you  blush  to  be 
the  disciple  of  Him  who  rescued  you  from  eternal  damnation,  and  re- 
stored you  to  the  eternal  inheritance  you  had  lost  ? — who,  though  born  in 
a  stable,  and  crucified  as  a  criminal,  has  monarchs  for  His  slaves,  and  the 
Avorld  for  His  worshippers?  Are  you  ashamed  of  His  teaching,  who  ab- 
stracting altogether  from  His  Divine  character,  is  confessed  by  all  to 
have  preached  the  most  sublime  philosophy  ever  propounded  to  man? 
Do  you  blush  to  follow  the  standard  of  the  cross,  which  has  acquired 
more  signal  victories  than  the  united  dynasties  of  the  universe?  Do  you 
regret  being  a  member  of  that  Church  which  has  lasted  two  thousand 
years,  and  which  is  sure  to  last  forever — which  comprises  in  its  folds  all 
the  power,  and  splendor,  and  genius,  and  glory  of  the  world?  and  do  you 
side  with  those  who  cry  up  the  glory  of  a  creed  of  mushroom  growth,  and 
a  Church  of  mushroom  endurance?     If  such  be  your  feelings — cold,  weak, 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  639 

base-hearted  Christian — well  do  you  deserve  to  hear  the  sentence  of 
Jesus:  "He  that  shall  be  ashamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words,  of  him  the 
Son  of  Man  will  be  ashamed  when  He  shall  come  in  His  majesty,  and 
that  of  His  Father,  and  of  the  Holy  angels."  If  such  weakness  ex- 
cites our  pity,  what  shall  be  our  admiration  for  the  man  who,  when  oc- 
casion requires,  stands  up  for  his  insulted  religion,  and  who,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  bigotry  and  ignorance,  no  matter  how  fortified  by  wealth  and 
power,  with  courage  in  his  heart,  and  fire  on  his  tongue,  proclaims  the 
glories  of  his  Church,  and,  like  a  good  soldier,  fights  her  battles  when 
cowards  cringe  and  skulk  away! 

Although  human  respect,  my  brethren,  thus  produces  a  thousand 
evils,  nevertheless  I  would  not  have  you  to  believe  that  we  are  always 
bound  to  profess  our  faith  openly,  and  to  display  our  religion  before 
society  or  the  world.  There  is  a  time  for  everything,  and  it  would  be 
indecorous,  it  would  savor  of  hypocrisy  and  affectation,  constantly  and 
without  a  proper  opening  to  parade  our  sanctity  before  the  public.  But 
when  the  occasion  offers,  then  to  hold  back  were  unworthy  of  a  man  and 
of  a  Christian :  if  our  conscience  dictate  to  us  that  we  should  pursue  a 
certain  line  of  conduct,  and  we  are  tempted  by  shame  to  forego  its  dictate, 
we  are  bound  to  trample  on  that  shame,  and  act  as  our  conscience  sug- 
gest, with  confidence  and  courage ;  otherwise  we  do  not  deserve  the 
name  of  soldiers,  but  rather  the  ignominious  appellation  of  deserter  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

Behold  the  lamentable  example  of  St.  Peter  yielding  to  human  respect. 
He  who  was  so  confident  of  his  courage  and  fidelity,  at  the  voice  of  a 
girl,  denies,  and  swears  as  he  denies,  that  he  knows  the  very  face  of  his 
Redeemer.  Oh !  bitter  scandal ;  but  would  to  God  we  could  all  re- 
pent as  St.  Peter  repented  !  See  how  Pontius  Pilate,  although  convinced 
of  the  innocence  of  our  Saviour,  yet,  through  human  respect,  imbrues  his 
hands  in  that  Saviour's  sacred  blood ;  proving  to  us  that  human  respect 
was  to  a  great  extent  the  immediate  cause  of  our  Redeemer's  death.  He 
declared  he  found  no  cause  of  death  in  Him;  and,  though  the  people  as- 
sembling tumultuously  insisted  on  our  Saviour's  condemnation,  Pilate  still 
persisted  in  the  resolution  of  not  staining  his  hands  with  innocent  blood. 
But  np  sooner  was  human  respect  called  in  to  support  the  unjust  demand, 
and  the  people  intimated  to  Pilate  that  he  might  incur  the  indignation 
of  Caesar,  than  he  immediately  yielded  up  the  cause  ;  fear  got  the  better 
of  any  other  consideration ;  human  respect  dictated  the  sentence  ;  hatred 
and  fury  carried  it  into  execution. 

Tremble,  therefore,  my  brethren,  at  the  fatal  consequences  of  acting 
according  to  the  standard  of  human  respect ;  it  is  a  subject  we  seldom  think 
on,  but  we  now  see  what  mischief  and  what  scandal  it  produces.    I  repeat, 


640 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


we  are  all  influenced  by  human  respect,  more  or  less,  at  various  times ;  let 
us  be  more  watchful  for  the  future.  Let  us  remember  the  denunciations 
of  Jesus  Christ  against  the  victims  of  this  fatal  weakness  :  "  He  who  shall 
deny  me  before  men,  I  will  also  deny  him  before  my  Father  who  is  in 
heaven."  On  the  other  hand,  let  us  remember  the  reward  He  has  promised 
to  those  who  profess  their  faith  openly  and  courageously  before  the  world : 
"  He  who  shall  confess  me  before  men,  I  will  also  confess  him  before  my 
Father  who  is  in  heaven."  What  matter  to  you  the  scoff  or  the  sneer  of 
the  infidel  or  the  lukewarm  Christian  ?  "  If  God  is  for  us,  who  is  against 
us?  "  There  is  nothing  so  truly  contemptible  as  to  see  a  Christian  sneer- 
ing at  the  religion  he  himself  professes.  If  there  be  anything  more  con- 
temptible than  that,  it  is  to  see  another  Christian  seeking  the  applause  of 
such  a  religious  scoffer.  Let  us,  therefore,  beg  of  God  to  fill  our  hearts 
with  the  courage  of  His  Martyrs  and  Saints,  that  we  may  never  blush  for 
the  gospel  of  Christ ;  that  we  may  never  give  way  to  pride,  except  to  be 
proud  of  our  title  of  Christians,  as  a  patent  of  the  highest  nobility ;  that 
we  may,  like  St.  Paul,  "glory  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
"  The  disciple  is  not  above  his  master,  nor  the  servant  above  his  lord." 
Jesus  died  on  the  cross ;  let  us  be  prepared  to  die  in  its  defense.  Let 
us  remember  that  we  are  soldiers  of  Christ,  and  that  the  good  soldier 
would  sooner  see  his  heart's  blood  flowing  than  have  his  honor  tarnished. 
Fighting  the  battle  of  the  Lord  during  life,  we  shall  deserve  to  receive 
an  unfading  crown  from  Him  hereafter,  who  has  said,  "  Blessed  is  he  that 
shall  not  be  scandalized  in  me." 


^S^^^^t^ 


SERMON   ON    PRAYER. 

*' At  that  time  Jesus  said  to  His  disciples,  In  that  day  you  shall  not  ask  me  anything. 
Amen,  amen,  I  say  to  you,  if  you  ask  the  Father  anything  in  my  name,  He  will 
give  it  you,"  etc.,  etc.— John  xvi.  23,  et  seq. 

iEARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— We  are  all  aware  that 
the  sole  object  of  our  existence  upon  earth  is  to  live  so  that 
we  may  be  happy  with  God  for  all  eternity.  But  do  we  ever 
reflect  that,  if  left  to  our  own  resources,  this  eternity  of  bliss 
is  perfectly  impossible  of  attainment  ?  Abandoned  to  himself,  man's  con- 
dition would  be  infinitely  worse  than  that  of  the  brute  creation  ;  for  the 
brute  obeys  his  instincts,  dies,  and  exists  no  more ;  but  man,  whose  soul 
is  immortal,  if  left  to  his  own  guidance,  following  his  animal  instinct, 
would  walk  with  his  eyes  open  into  the  abyss  of  eternal  woe.  Since 
the  fall  of  Adam,  man's  condition  upon  earth  is  the  most  pitiful  that  can  be 
well  imagined.  His  reason,  that  glorious  faculty  which  was  once  a  bright 
beacon,  guiding  him  safely  over  a  tranquil  sea,  became  obscured  by  the 
clouds  of  sin,  and  sheds  a  doubtful,  flickering  ray  which  he  can  never 
securely  follow  again.  His  intellect,  once  a  bright,  clear  atmosphere 
through  which  that  beacon-light  of  reason  shone,  became  thick  with  the 
mists  of  ignorance,  with  the  vapors  of  prejudice  and  error;  the  world  was 
once  for  him  a  serene,  unruffled  sea  over  which  he  glided  smoothly  and 
unwaveringly  toward  the  destined  shore ;  but  alas !  the  storms  of  temp- 
tations, and  the  tempest  of  passion  have  aroused  that  slumbering  ocean  ; 
the  billows  of  sin  beset  the  hapless  voyager,  until  without  light  to  direct 
him,  enveloped  in  gloom,  and  tossed  by  the  surges  of  an  angry  sea,  he 
pursues  a  trackless  course,  drifting  he  knoweth  not  whither,  and  is  dashed 
at  length  on  the  merciless  coast,  or  swept  into  the  fathomless  depths  for- 
ever. But  what  a  consolation  has  poor  fallen  man,  that  lone  wanderer 
upon  earth,  in  these  dear  words  which  I  have  read  for  you  !  Of  himself, 
he  can  do  nothing ;  aided  by  God  he  can  accomplish  all  things.  "  Amen, 
amen,  I  say  to  you,"  says  Christ,  "  if  you  ask  the  Father  anything  in  my 
name.  He  will  give  it  you :  ask  and  receive  that  your  joy  may  be  full." 
If  you  cry  out  to  Him  from  the  depths.  He  will  hear  your  voice ;  if  you 
ask  Him  for  light  to.  direct  your  wandering  course.  He  will  shed  it 
around  you  in  abundance;  for,  "every  best  gift,  and  every  perfect  gift, 

(641) 


642  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

is  from  above,  coming  down  from  the  Father  of  light " — if,  like  Peter,  you 
cry  out  to  Him  from  the  swelling  waves,  "  Lord,  save  us,  we  perish !  " 
although  you  deserve  to  hear  the  reproachful  reply,  "  O  thou  of  little 
faith,"  yet  the  storm  will  cease,  and  a  sweet  refreshing  calm  ensue. 

In  a  word,  prayer  is,  if  not  the  greatest,  at  least  one  of  the  greatest 
means  of  man's  salvation.  We  obtain  nothing  from  God  without  prayer ; 
by  virtue  of  prayer  we  are  made  sharers  of  every  blessing  which  heaven 
can  bestow.  He  who  does  not  pray  is  doomed  to  perish,  while  the  man 
of  prayer  shall  live  with  God  forever.  Such  being  \he  importance  of  this 
duty,  it  is  the  dearest  interest  of  every  one  of  us  to  consider  how  we 
ought  to  pray,  in  order  that  God  may  give  ear  to  our  petition.  I  will, 
therefore,  point  out  to  you  the  conditions  which  God  requires  to  render 
our  prayers  acceptable  to  Him  ;  but  first,  it  would  be  well  to  consider  the 
necessity  and  excellence  of  prayer,  in  order  that  we  may  more  fully  appre- 
ciate an  obligation  so  intimately  wound  up  with  our  eternal  welfare. 

Our  first  and  chief  duty  upon  earth  is  to  praise  and  glorify  God. 
This  we  do  by  prayer;  for  prayer  is  not  only  a  petition  to  God  for  His 
favors,  but  an  expression  of  homage  to  His  Eternal  Majesty.  Thus,  the 
first  petition  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  that  prayer  prescribed  for  man's  use 
by  our  Blessed  Lord  Himself,  begs  that  the  name  of  God  may  be  blest  by 
all  His  creatures:  "Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  Thy 
name."  It  being,  therefore,  a  constant  duty  of  ours  to  bless  and  praise 
God,  we  are  clearly  bound  at  all  times  to  pray,  if  not  with  the  lan- 
guage of  our  lips,  at  least  with  the  homage  of  our  hearts.  For  this 
reason,  our  Blessed  Lord  says  that  "we  should  always  pray."  We  are 
all  subjects  of  God  ;  he  who  does  not  pray  proclaims  his  independence 
of  his  Creator,  and,  as  he  goes  through  life  without  recognizing  God,  so, 
when  he  dies,  God  will  not  recognize  him,  but  cast  him  forever  from  His 
sight.  Unless  we  pray,  we  can  never  escape  the  dangers  that  beset  us  in 
this  miserable  life.  How  can  we  resist  temptation?  how  can  we  bear 
our  sufferings  and  crosses  ?  how  can  we  conquer  the  devil  and  our  passions, 
which  hold  perpetual  siege  against  our  souls?  How,  except  by  prayer? 
"Watch  and  pray,"  says  Christ,  "that  you  enter  not  into  temptation." 
How  can  he  who  leaves  his  house  in  the  morning,  as  a  beast  leaves  his 
lair,  without  ever  lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven,  expect  that  God  will  protect 
him  from  the  dangers  that  surround  humanity  in  this  daily  turmoil  of 
life  ?  and  how  can  he  who  lays  his  head  at  night  upon  his  pillow,  without 
invoking  the  protection  of  the  Lord,  expect  that  his  eyes  shall  ever  again 
behold  the  gladdening  rays  of  the  morning  sun  ?  Prayer  is  necessary,  be- 
cause without  it  we  can  do  absolutely  nothing  conducive  to  salvation. 
For  this  we  have  the  words  of  Christ  Himself:  "Without  me,"  says  He, 
"  you  can  do  nothing."     It  is  so  essentially  necessary,  that  the  want  of  it 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  643 

cannot  be  supplied  by  any  other  act  of  religion.  Baptism  is  necessary  to 
salvation,  but  its  want  can  be  supplied  by  martyrdom.  Penance  is 
necessary  to  those  who  have  fallen  into  mortal  sin,  and  yet  the  soul  may 
be  saved  by  perfect  contrition.  Those  who  are  unable  to  fast  may  have  the 
obligation  set  aside,  or  commuted  ;  those  who  cannot  give  alms  to  the 
poor,  owing  to  their  poverty,  may  save  their  souls  by  patience  and  resig- 
nation ;  but  nothing  can  supply  the  place  of  prayer.  It  is  utterly  indis- 
pensable to  salvation ;  for  we  cannot  be  saved  without  the  gracie  of  God, 
and,  without  prayer,  that  grace  cannot  possibly  be  obtained. 

Prayer,  then,  being  so  necessary  to  salvation,  God,  in  His  infinite 
goodness  and  love,  has  extended  the  faculty  of  praying  to  every  member 
of  the  human  race,  on  whose  soul  has  dawned  the  light  of  reason.  Prayer 
is  not  an  operation  which  only  the  talented  or  learned  may  perform  ;  it 
requires  no  effort  of  genius,  no  intellectual  cultivation  ;  it  is  not  a  science 
to  be  learned  from  men,  nor  an  art  that  is  to  be  acquired  from  books  or 
study ;  it  is  the  simple  language  of  the  heart,  the  impulsive  utterance  of 
the  soul ;  the  knowledge  of  it  is  instilled  into  our  very  being ;  the  rules 
of  it  are  engraved  on  the  heart ;  and  the  only  Master  who  can  teach  it  is 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  The  child  on  his  mother's  knee  pours  forth  his 
lisping  prayer,  which  wells  up  like  the  fountain,  springing  unto  life 
eternal,  from  a  heart  pure,  innocent,  and  guileless.  That  unpretending 
outgushing  of  the  infant  soul  may  be  worded  in  language  the  simplest^ 
the  most  unadorned,  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  borne  as  a  priceless  treasure,, 
by  angels,  before  the  throne  of  the  Most  High,  where  it  ranks  with  the 
richest  offerings  that  have  been  presented  by  hoary-headed  monks,  from 
studious  cloisters,  or  by  practiced  chanters  in  cathedral  choirs.  The  un- 
taught savage,  who  roams  the  desert,  ignorant  of  God,  yet  conscious  by 
nature  that  some  great  eternal  Being,  dwelling  beyond  the  clouds,  is  the 
master  of  his  destiny,  kneels  and  prays  before  the  Mighty  Unseen  One, 
as  he  thinks  Him,  represented  by  the  all-pervading  sun,  or  typified  by  the 
mild,  beneficent,  and  gentle  stars.  The  unlettered  shepherd,  herding  his 
flocks  upon  the  mountain  side,  utters  his  unvarnished  prayer  to  the  Most 
High,  with  a  heart  sincere  and  pure,  and  that  simple  ejaculatory  outpour- 
ing of  an  innocent  soul  is  heard  in  the  courts  of  heaven,  and  the  humble 
postulant  is  enriched  with  grace  ;  while  the  well-worded,  elegant,  and 
high-sounding  orison  of  the  educated,  but  tepid,  worshipper  only  moves 
to  indignation  the  God  whom  it  appears  intended  to  propitiate.  Thus 
nothing  is  easier  than  prayer.  "  The  commandment  that  I  command 
thee  this  day,"-  said  the  Lord  to  the  Israelites,  "  is  not  above  thee,  nor  far 
from  thee,  nor  is  it  in  heaven,  to  bring  it  to  us,  and  we  may  hear  and  ful- 
fil it  in  work.  Nor  is  it  beyond  the  sea,  that  thou  mayest  do  it.  Excuse 
thyself  and  say,  which  of  us  can  cross  the  sea,  and  bring  it  to  us,  that  we 


644  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

may  hear  and  do  that  which  is  commanded  ?  But  the  Word  is  very  nigh 
to  thee,  in  thy  mouth  and  in  thy  heart,  that  thou  mayest  do  it."  The 
proud  and  long-winded  prayer  of  the  Pharisee  is  despised,  while  the  sim- 
ple "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner"  of  the  publican  pierces  the  clouds, 
and  brings  down  upon  him  a  flood  of  grace  from  the  throne  of  God. 
Prayer  is  not  only  necessary,  but  it  is  most  excellent  and  useful  to  man  ; 
by  it  we  honor  and  glorify  God,  for  prayer  is  an  indication  of  religion, 
and  is  compared  in  sacred  saints'  times  to  incense :  "  Let  my  prayer," 
says  the  Psalmist,  "  ascend  like  incense  in  Thy  sight."  By  prayer  we 
proclaim  ourselves  the  servants  of  God ;  we  own  our  subjection  to  that 
Almighty  Master ;  we  acknowledge  Him  to  be  the  Author  of  all  good ; 
we  look  to  Him  as  our  only  refuge  from  danger,  our  only  solace  in  tribu- 
lation, our  only  hope  both  for  time  and  for  eternity.  "  Call  upon  me," 
says  He,  "  in  the  day  of  trouble,  I  will  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt  glorify 
me."  The  prayer  of  the  just  man  is  the  key  of  heaven,  it  unlocks  the 
treasures  of  God's  graces  and  mercies.  "  Prayer  ascends,"  says  St.  Au- 
gustine, "  and  mercy  descends  ;  high  as  are  the  heavens,  and  low  as  is  the 
earth,  God  hears  the  voice  of  man."  By  it  every  virtue  is  confirmed  in 
the  soul ;  every  assault  of  the  enemy  is  repulsed ;  every  pang  soothed, 
every  sorrow  dispelled,  every  joy  infused :  *'  Ask  and  you  shall  receive, 
that  your  joy  may  be  full."  By  prayer  charity  is  influenced  ;  the  soul  be- 
comes enamored  of  her  God  ;  recognizes  Him  as  the  Author  of  every 
good,  she  embraces  Him  with  the  most  devoted  love.  Thus,  holding  a 
sweet  and  frequent  intercourse  with  Him,  she  soon  experiences  an  ex- 
quisite sense  of  delight ;  she  tastes  and  sees  how  sweet  is  the  Lord  ;  yes, 
sweeter  beyond  comparison  than  the  liveliest  imagination  can  portray,  or 
the  most  earnest  yearning  of  the  heart  can  covet  or  desire.  There  is,  in 
fact,  nothing  that  we  may  not  receive  from  God  by  prayer;  no  grace,  no 
favor,  no  blessing.  "  Ask  and  you  shall  receive,  seek  and  you  shall  find  ; 
knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you."  "  If  you  ask  the  Father  any- 
thing in  my  name,  He  will  give  it  you." 

Seeing,  therefore,  the  necessity  and  utility  of  prayer,  it  is  clearly  our 
dearest  interest  to  know  how  we  should  pray,  in  order  that  our  prayers 
may  be  acceptable  with  God,  and  in  order  that  we  may  obtain  from  Him 
those  graces  which  may  enable  us  to  work  out  the  work  of  our  salvation. 

My  brethren,  in  order  that  our  prayers  may  be  acceptable  to  God, 
certain  conditions  are  absolutely  necessary.  Of  these  conditions,  those 
which  are  indispensable  are  humility,  faith,  confidence,  and  perseverance ; 
and  there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  is  owing  to  the  want  of  these 
conditions  our  prayers  are  unheard,  and  our  petitions  unheeded  by  God. 
We  should  pray  with  humility — that  is  to  say,  with  a  thorough  convic- 
tion of  our  utter  unworthiness  to  appear  before  God,  or  to  receive  any 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  646 

favor  of  His  hands ;  with  deep  humiliation,  considering  the  weakness  of 
our  nature,  and  the  multitude  of  our  sins ;  and  with  a  heartfelt  sorrow  for 
having  ever  displeased  the  Sovereign  Majesty  of  our  Creator.  "  Before 
prayer,"  says  the  wise  man,  "  prepare  the  soul,  and  be  not  as  a  man  that 
tempteth  God";  for  what  else  is  it  but  tempting  God,  to  kneel  in  the 
attitude  of  homage,  and  yet  feel  only  sentiments  of  rebellion ;  to  ask  with 
the  lips  what  the  heart  does  not  desire ;  to  utter  the  language  of  sorrow, 
and  still  feel  a  lusi;  for  the  sinful  pleasures  of  the  world  ?  To  such  prayers 
God  will  have  no  regard;  it  is  only  the  prayer  of  humility  that  He  re- 
spects. *'  He  hath  had  regard  to  the  prayer  of  the  humble,  and  He  hath 
not  despised  their  petition  ";  yea,  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  the  prayer  of  him 
who  humbleth  himself  shall  pierce  the  clouds."  The  bold,  unblushing, 
self-reliant  Pharisee  comes  to  the  church  unheeded ;  but  the  humble,  con- 
trite, prostrate  publican  goes  down  into  his  house  justified  rather  than 
the  other;  for**  every  one  who  exalteth  himself  shall  be  humbled,  and 
he  who  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted."  Let  no  man  think  that  his 
prayer  will  be  heard  as  long  as  he  feels  a  passion  for  sin ;  to  such  persons 
the  Lord  says,  by  the  mouth  of  Isaiah,  His  prophet,  "  When  you  stretch 
forth  your  hands  I  will  turn  away  my  eyes  from  you,  and  when  you  mul- 
tiply prayer  I  will  not  hear."  To  those  whose  breasts  rankle  with  the 
venom  of  unforgiveness,  God  denies  their  entreaties ;  and  he,  therefore, 
who  would  be  heard,  must  first  learn  to  love  his  neighbor,  and  pardon  the 
injuries  or  insults  he  may  have  received :  "  When  you  shall  stand  to 
pray,"  says  Christ,  "  forgive,  if  you  have  anything  against  any  man ;  for 
if  you  will  not  forgive  men,  neither  will  your  Father  forgive  you  your 
sins."  A  spirit  of  humility,  therefore,  and  of  all  its  cognate  virtues  of 
contrition,  of  patience,  of  resignation,  and  forgiveness,  is  the  first,  and  per- 
haps most  essential,  condition  of  prayer ;  "  for  God,"  says  St.  James, 
"  resisteth  the  proud,  and  giveth  His  grace  to  the  humble." 

We  must  also  pray  with  faith,  believing  firmly  in  God's  power  and 
willingness  to  grant  our  petition.  This  condition  is  absolutely  necessary, 
in  order  that  our  prayers  may  be  heard ;  for  how  can  we  address  God, 
unless  we  believe  in  Him?  "  How  shall  they  call  on  Him  in  whom  they 
have  not  believed  ?  "  says  St.  Paul.  "  All  things,"  says  Christ,  "  whatso- 
ever you  shall  ask  in  prayer,  believing,  you  shall  receive."  How,  indeed, 
can  he  expect  to  obtain  anything  from  God,  who  either  doubts  God's 
power,  or  believes  that  God  may  not  grant  his  request  ?  If  such  a  man 
would  obtain  anything  from  God,  he  must  cease  to  doubt,  he  must  en- 
liven his  faith  in  God,  he  must  adopt  the  advice  of  St.  James,  "  Let  him 
ask  in  faith  nothing  wavering."  We  must  also  pray  with  confidence. 
We  must  be  convinced  that  God  will  hear  our  prayers.  If  we  have  not 
this  confidence,  we  make  God  a  liar;  for  even  in  the  words  of  my  text, 


646  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

our  Blessed  Redeemer  says,  "  If  you  ask  anything  in  my  name  of  the 
Father,  He  will  give  it  you  ";  but  he  who  does  not  confide  in  God's  word 
thinks  that  God  will  or  may  refuse  something,  notwithstanding  His 
promises.  Whenever  our  Saviour  performs  a  miracle,  by  restoring  a  per- 
son to  life  or  health,  He  generally  also  forgives  the  person  his  sins ;  but 
almost  invariably,  on  such  occasions,  He  applauds  the  confidence  of  those 
who  were  so  favored.  "  Have  confidence,  my  son,  thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee."  And  for  this  confidence  have  the  best  and  the  most  unshakable 
grounds;  for  "if  any  man  sin,"  says  St.  John,  "  we  have  an  Advocate 
with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  Just,  and  He  is  the  propitiation  for  our 
sins."  Our  confidence  should  be  also  increased  by  the  consideration  that 
it  is  the  Holy  Ghost  inspires  our  prayers,  under  whose  guiding  influence 
they  cannot  fail  to  be  heard  ;  because  St.  Paul  assures  us,  "  He  asketh 
for  us  with  unspeakable  groanings."  Last  of  all,  we  should  pray  with 
perseverance.  Many  persons,  after  praying  for  some  time,  grow  weary 
when  their  petitions  are  not  heard,  and  give  up  the  task  in  despair.  They 
appoint  a  time  for  God  to  hear  them,  and  if  the  favor  is  not  granted  at 
the  time  prescribed,  they  desist  from  what  they  consider  a  useless  im- 
portunity of  the  Most  High.  They  think  not  that,  perhaps,  their  motives 
are  not  pure ;  that  their  request  is,  perhaps,  unreasonable ;  that  God 
wishes  to  try  their  patience  ;  that  it  is  through  love  for  them  He  refuses 
what  may  tend  rather  to  their  destruction  than  to  their  salvation. 
Whether  you  obtain  your  request  or  not,  always  supposing  that  it  is  a 
lawful  request,  never  desist  from  prayer.  This  is  the  advice  of  the 
wisest  of  men :  "  Let  nothing,"  says  he,  "  hinder  thee  from  praying 
always ;  and  be  not  afraid  to  be  justified  even  to  death,  for  the  reward  of 
God  continueth  forever."  "  We  ought  always  pray,"  says  Christ,  "  and 
not  to  faint ";  and  "  pray  without  ceasing  "  is  the  earnest  exhortation  of 
St.  Paul.  The  blind  beggar,  who  met  our  Saviour  on  the  road  to  Jericho, 
was  not  restored  to  sight  the  first  time  he  cried  out,  "  Jesus,  son  of 
David,  have  mercy  on  me!"  No,  but  when  he  raised  his  voice  higher, 
and  redoubled  his  power,  his  unwearied  perseverance  became  a  kind  of 
violence  that  moved  the  Lord  to  enlighten  the  eyes  both  of  his  soul  and 
body.  Perseverance  is,  indeed,  the  condition  of  prayer,  because  it  is  the 
greatest  test  of  the  sincerity  of  him  who  prays ;  and  proves  to  God  that, 
no  matter  how  often  he  is  rebuffed,  he  still  has  confidence  enough  to 
pray ;  still  faith  enough  to  believe  in  the  honor  and  goodness  of  his 
Creator. 

My  brethren,  it  only  remains  for  me  earnestly  to  exhort  you  to  be 
fervent  and  diligent  in  the  holy  exercise  of  prayer.  If  you  wish  to  enjoy 
in  this  life  spiritual  peace,  and  in  the  next  eternal  happiness  with  God, 
in  this  valley  of  tears,  prayer  is  to  us  a  means  of  the  sweetest  consola- 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  647 

tion,  a  never-failing  source  of  purest  joy.  By  its  magical  power  every 
sorrow  is  dispelled  from  the  soul,  and  a  foretaste  of  celestial  bliss  infused  ; 
it  is  the  precious  metal  which  turns  into  gold  all  the  ore  of  feeling,  that 
lies  buried  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  mind.  Where  all  is  dark,  it  dif- 
fuses a  radiance  mellow  and  serene ;  where  all  is  bitter,  it  sheds  an  elixir 
of  entrancing  sweetness ;  where  all  is  cold,  it  breathes  a  warm  glow  of 
love ;  not  that  love  which,  like  all  things  on  earth,  blooms  for  a  while, 
and  perishes  forever ;  but  that  love  which,  though  it  buds  in  the  soul  on 
earth,  yet  blossoms  in  heaven,  to  fade  no  more.  And,  oh  !  how  wretched, 
how  pitiable  is  the  lot  of  him  who  neglects  this  saving  exercise — who 
casts  into  the  deep  this  sweet  anchor  of  his  hope ! 

In  this  world  we  live  as  exiles,  banished  from  our  native  land,  feeding 
upon  the  husks  of  swine,  in  poverty,  anguish,  and  distress ;  our  hearts 
ever  yearning  for  that  happy  land,  where  alone  their  throbbing  can  be 
stilled,  where  every  craving  may  be  gratified,  where  every  thirst  may  be 
quenched  with  the  waters  of  eternal  life,  and  our  hunger  appeased  by  par- 
ticipation in  the  plenty  of  our  Father's  house.  If  we  are  content  with 
our  lot,  if  we  hug  our  chains,  if  we  prefer  bondage  to  freedom,  and  exile 
in  a  foreign  land  to  the  free  enjoyment  of  our  own,  our  misery  is,  indeed, 
unspeakable.  But  we  have  a  merciful  King,  to  whom  the  vilest  outcast 
from  His  dominion  may  address  his  petition  for  freedom,  with  a  perfect 
assurance  that,  not  only  will  his  prayer  be  presented  to  the  throne  of 
God,  but  receive  a  favorable  hearing;  that  his  petition  for  liberation  shall 
be  granted,  and  then  he  shall  be  restored  to  the  home  for  which  his  heart 
is  breaking ;  that  there  he  shall  meet  the  loving  father  or  the  tender 
mother,  who  sweetened  his  woes  even  in  this  vale  of  tears ;  that  he  shall 
there  embrace,  after  an  absence  of  years,  the  child  of  his  bosom,  whom 
he  fancied  he  should  never  behold  again  ;  that  their  weeping  and  sorrow 
shall  be  no  more,  for  "  the  former  things  have  passed  away  ";  that  joy 
then,  and  only  joy,  shall  prevail  in  this  region  of  endless  delights.  If 
any  one  who  knew  that  by  a  simple  petition  he  could  procure  for  himself 
this  termination  of  his  woes,  and  the  enjoyment  of  those  eternal  pleas- 
ures, neglected  to  employ  such  easy  means  for  his  deliverance,  would 
you  not  consider  him  mad  ?  Would  his  fate  any  longer  move  you  to 
pity ;  would  it  excite  one  sympathetic  emotion  to  learn  that,  after  his 
exile  here,  from  which  he  might  have  been  so  easily  released,  he  is  now 
cast  into  that  dungeon  of  eternal  darkness  and  woe,  whose  gates  are 
never  opened,  .and  through  whose  walls  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
shall  never  shed  one  cheering  ray,  through  all  the  countless  ages  of 
eternity !  Oh !  then,  my  brethren,  if  you  hope  for  salvation,  pray,  and 
pray  well,  pray  with  the  conditions  I  have  pointed  out  ;  with  faith,  be- 
lieving that  God  not  only  can,  but  will,  hear  your  entreaties,  for  Christ 


648 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


our  Lord  has  said,  that  "  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth." 
"  Amen,"  said  he,  "  I  say  to  you,  that  whosoever  shall  say  to  this  moun- 
tain, be  thou  removed  and  be  cast  into  the  sea,  and  shall  not  stagger  in 
his  heart,  but  believe  that  whatever  he  sayeth  shall  be  done,  it  shall  be 
done  unto  him."  I  say  unto  you,  all  things  whatsoever  you  shall  ask, 
when  you  pray,  believe  that  you  shall  receive,  and  they  will  come  unto 
you.  Pray  with  confidence,  knowing  that  if  you  ask  your  father  for 
bread  he  will  not  give  you  a  stone  ;  with  humility,  like  that  of  Abraham 
when  he  said,  "  Shall  I  presume  to  speak  to  the  Lord,  I  who  am  but  dust 
and  ashes?"  and  with  perseverance,  like  that  of  David,  who  has  said,  "  I 
will  bless  the  Lord  at  all  times.  His  praise  shall  be  always  in  my  mouth." 
Praying  thus,  you  shall  bring  down  from  heaven  the  showers  of  God's 
graces  upon  your  souls,  which  will  sweeten  all  the  toils  of  life,  and  pre- 
pare you  for  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  bliss,  in  that  happy  land  where 
you  shall  have  no  further  need  of  prayer,  and  where  every  utterance  of 
the  soul  shall  be  an  outpouring  of  love,  of  praise,  and  jubilation  to  the 
Most  High,  forever  and  forever. 


SERMON   ON   THE   PASSION. 

"  He  was  wounded  for  our  iniquities ;  He  was  bruised  for  our  sins." — Isaias  lix.  5. 

EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— Forty  days  of  peniten- 
tial mourning  have  nearly  passed  away,  and  heaven  and  earth 
with  universal  accord  will  soon  sing  forth  their  hymns  and 
canticles,  and  alleluias  of  joy.  Forty  days  will  but  have  just 
expired  since  the  words  of  Joel  were  ringing  in  our  ears,  exhorting  us  to 
be  converted  to  the  Lord  in  fasting,  in  mourning,  and  in  weeping,  and 
soon  the  Church  of  God  will  resound  with  hosannas  to  the  Highest  in 
commemoration  of  thie  greatest  miracle  Omnipotence  hath  ever  yet 
achieved  ;  yet,  of  those  forty  days  of  sorrow  and  of  tears,  the  fragment 
that  remains  is  the  saddest,  the  darkest,  the  bitterest  of  all.  Could  you 
at  this  moment  cast  your  eyes  round  about  the  world,  you  would  see  the 
altars  of  the  Lord  no  more  adorned  with  that  pomp  and  magnificence  her 
children  love  to  shed  around  them ;  but  stripped  of  their  decorations, 
their  gems,  and  their  flowers,  and  looking  cold  and  dreary  to  the  Chris- 
tian eye.  You  would  see  those  proud  temples  raised  to  the  Almighty  in 
foreign  lands,  where  His  glories  are  sung  and  His  name  is  adored  by  faith- 
ful millions,  no  longer  displaying  to  the  enchanted  vision  the  choicest 
graces  of  architectural  splendor,  but  hung  from  roof  to  floor  in  the  dark 
drapery  of  funeral  sorrow.  The  thrilling  tones  of  solemn  bells  swell  not 
now  from  the  lofty  spires  and  steeples  ;  hushed  are  the  melodious  sounds 
of  exultant  music  through  their  spacious  aisles;  and  the  voices  of  His 
ministers,  who,  but  a  few  months  since,  sung  anthems  of  praise  and  joy 
for  the  nativity  of  the  Babe  in  Bethlehem,  now  chant  in  plaintive  chorus 
the  inspired  language  of  woe  in  celebration  of  the  last  melancholy  mystery 
of  our  redemption.  The  Church  of  God  is  oppressed  with  sorrow  and 
(gloom,  "weeping,"  as  the  prophet  laments,  "She  hath  wept  the  night, 
and  the  tears  are  on  her  cheeks  ;  there  is  none  to  comfort  her  amongst  all 
that  are  dear  to  her ;  her  children  multiply  their  fasts  and  austerities  ; 
they  send  forth  to  heaven  more  ardent  prayers,  and  mingle  tears  with  the 
expressions  of  gratitude  and  praise."  Oh  !  could  we  at  this  moment  pierce 
the  privacy  of  many  a  lonely  cell  and  chamber,  how  many  devoted  wor- 
shippers should  we  behold  pressing  to  their  lips  the  sign  of  our  redemp- 
tion, and  bedewing  the  sacred  emblem  with  tears  the  brightest  and  dearest 
mortal  man  can  shed. 

(649) 


650  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

But  why  this  voice  of  universal  woe,  why  this  mourning  and  weeping 
in  the  Church  of  God  ?  It  is  because  she  commemorates  on  this  day  the 
bitter  Passion  and  ignominious  death  of  her  own  beloved  Spouse,  Jesus 
Christ,  the  only  Son  of  the  living  God.  It  is  because  she  looks  back  be- 
yond the  last  eighteen  hundred  years,  arfd  sees  with  weeping  eyes  the 
Divine  Saviour  of  men  hanging  like  a  malefactor  between  two  thieves  on 
a  disgraceful  cross,  with  a  crown  of  thorns  upon  His  head,  with  cruel  nails 
bored  through  His  sacred  hands  and  feet,  with  His  tender  flesh  bruised 
and  scored  in  every  limb,  with  that  blood  which  rescued  a  world  from 
damnation,  welling  in  streams  from  His  sacred  veins,  and  with  a  rabble 
crowd  of  infuriated  monsters  pouring  out  against  Him  all  the  vemon  of 
insult  and  malice  that  rancor  could  suggest  or  ribaldry  interpret.  It  is 
because  she  feels,  with  sensations  of  the  bitterest  affliction,  that  it  is  the 
iniquities  of  her  own  children  that  have  brought  her  beloved  Jesus  from 
the  glories  of  heaven  to  the  ignominy  of  Calvary  ;  that  it  is  they  who  have 
pierced  those  hands  and  feet,  and  sent  the  blood  gushing  from  every 
sacred  pore ;  in  fine,  it  is  because  she  seeks,  with  tears  of  penitential  sor- 
row, to  soothe  the  anger  of  heaven  excited  against  sinful  man,  and  to 
implore  that  He  "  who  was  wounded  for  our  iniquities,  who  was  bruised 
for  our  sins,"  would,  on  this,  the  anniversary  of  His  death,  impart  to  us 
that  mercy  and  pardon  which  He  lived  and  died  to  purchase  from  His 
Heavenly  Father  for  us  all. 

If  we  wish,  my  brethren,  to  participate  in  the  benefits  acquired  for  us 
by  the  sufferings  of  our  beloved  Saviour,  let  us,  in  God's  name,  this  night 
join  with  our  holy  mother  the  Church  in  contemplating  with  deep  sorrow 
for  our  sins  the  tragic  drama  of  the  Passion,  the  unspeakable  horrors  of 
Calvary,  where  Jesus  died  amidst  the  shouts  and  insults  of  the  traitorous 
Jews. 

Were  we,  my  brethren,  to  trace  the  entire  course  of  that  bitter  Pas- 
sion, from  the  first  pang  of  agony  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemani,  to  the 
last  expiring  sigh  on  Calvary,  and  dwell  on  that  tender  love  manifested 
for  us  in  every  throb  of  that  Sacred  Heart  the  morning's  sun  should  rise, 
and  find  our  task  unfinished.  For,  that  the  great  God  who  exists  from 
all  eternity,  and  who  shall  exist  beyond  the  stretch  of  human  fancy ;  who 
was  infinitely  happy  in  Himself,  and  whose  glory  no  shadow  of  pain  could 
for  a  moment  cloud ;  whose  omnipotence  can  call  worlds  into  existence, 
and  crush  them  again  into  their  original  nothing — that  He  should  come 
down  from  His  eternal  throne,  and,  like  an  outcast  from  the  race  of  men, 
should  suffer  such  anguish  as  all  that  man  ever  endured  could  never  equal, 
and  all  this  to  rescue  from  perdition  even  the  souls  of  His  executioners — 
is  a  mystery  of  love  which  His  own  infinite  conception  alone  can  embrace. 
Hence  we  must  be  content  with  viewing  that  boundless  love  as  it  shines 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  651 

forth  for  us  in  the  mere  remarkable  features  of  His  Passion,  and  still  feel 
assured  that  we  have  only  glanced  over  the  surface,  and  not  fathomed  its 
unfathomable  depths. 

Before  our  Divine  Redeemer's  sufferings  had  yet  in  all  their  intensity 
commenced,  we  behold  Him  performing  a  most  stupendous  miracle  of 
love  for  us,  as  a  prelude  to  the  love  displayed  on  the  bloody  hill  of 
Calvary.  We  see  Him  seated  amongst  His  chosen  twelve  (the  dearest 
children  of  His  bosom,  from  whom  He  was  so  soon  to  be  torn  by  His 
enemies),  and  there  leaving  them,  and  by  them  to  the  world.  His  own 
body  and  blood  as  a  pledge  of  His  everlasting  love  for  man.  Oh !  who 
can  fathom  the  depth  of  this  our  Jesus'  love  for  us,  the  very  night  of  His 
Passion ;  the  night  when  He  was  to  feel  the  lonely  horrors  of  Geth- 
semani ;  the  night  that  He  was  to  be  betrayed  by  one  who  sat  at  that 
sacred  table ;  the  night  when  He  was  to  be  kicked  and  buffeted,  and  spat 
upon  in  Caiphas'  hall ;  the  night  that  Peter  was  to  swear  he  never  knew 
Him!  That  then  He  should  have  no  other  thought  but  man's  happiness 
and  man's  glory,  exceeds,  indeed,  all  human  power  to  conceive ;  yet  so  it 
was.  He  then  thought,  my  brethren,  of  you  and  of  me,  as  if  you  and  I 
were  alone  in  the  world.  He  thought  of  the  weary  days  of  our  lonely 
exile,  how,  wandering  through  this  vale  of  tears,  our  souls  should  sigh, 
with  their  heaven-born  instinct,  for  the  good  things  of  Sion  ;  how,  sick 
and  faint,  they  should  totter  on  the  way,  unless  refreshed  by  the  manna 
of  life,  not  by  "  the  food  that  perisheth  ";  and  thus  He  bequeathed  to  us 
that  bread  which  angels  dare  not  taste,  to  strengthen  us  in  our  journey  to 
the  land  where  we  expect,  let  us  hope  not  in  vain,  to  be  filled  for  eternity 
with  the  plenty  of  His  Father's  house. 

And  now.  Christian  soul,  come  with  me.  Let  us  go  forth  through 
the  darkness  of  the  night  from  the  hum  and  bustle  of  Jerusalem,  and 
crossing  the  brook  Cedron,  let  us  wend  our  way  through  the  olive  groves 
that  lie  beyond.  There  is  the  place  called  Gethsemani ;  it  is  lonely  and 
silent,  and  the  night  wind  sighs  but  faintly  through  the  melancholy  trees ; 
the  stars  are  shut  out,  and  the  spot  so  interwoven  with  the  destinies  of 
mankind  is  given  over  to  gloom  and  desolation.  Prostrate  on  the  earth, 
with  His  hands  clasped  in  a  paroxysm  of  woe,  sad  and  alone,  His  long 
hair  hanging  in  damp  and  disordered  curls  over  His  shoulders,  and  huge 
drops  of  blood  starting  from  His  pallid  face,  lies  a  human  being,  human 
to  all  appearances ;  with  the  form  of  mankind,  with  its  physical  weak- 
ness and  more  than  its  share  of  hereditary  sorrow ;  for  in  the  annals  of 
human  suffering,  we  hear  not  of  any,  save  Him,  from  whose  brow  grief 
ever  forced  that  sanguinary  exponent  of  its  bitterness  and  its  intensity, 
now  appealing  to  heaven  in  superhuman  fervidness  of  entreaty ;  now 
downcast,    horror  stricken,    inconsolable,    yet    all  -  sustaining ;    a    Being 


652  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

placed,  one  would  imagine,  beyond  the  range  of  mercy  or  compassion, 
the  butt  of  all  the  arrows  of  misery,  and  the  victim  of  innumerable  death- 
agonies  which  will  not  kill  that  His  suffering  may  be  prolonged ;  a 
living  epitome  of  all  the  men  of  sorrows  whose  hearts  were  ever  seared 
or  blighted  by  misfortune.  And  who  is  this  victim  ?  And  why  has  sor- 
row chosen  Him  for  this  relentless  sacrifice  ?  My  brethren,  this  is  Jesus, 
the  Son  of  the  living  God  !  It  is  He  who  made  that  earth  which  is 
humid  with  His  life-blood ;  who  made  those  stars  that  glorify  the  arch  of 
heaven,  and  the  clouds  that  veil  their  brightness ;  whose  commanding 
voice  hath  ranged  those  serried  ranks  of  trees  and  who  breathes  in  those 
gentle  winds  that  whisper  through  the  trembling  leaves.  It  is  Man  God, 
and  why  is  He  here,  "  treading  the  wine-press  alone,"  why  bent  beneath 
this  crushing  sorrow  ?  "  My  soul,"  He  cries  in  unutterable  anguish, 
"  My  soul  is  sorrowful  even  unto  death."  He,  the  mild,  the  gentle,  the 
uncomplaining,  cannot  bear  this  woe;  His  soul  is  sorrowful  even  unto 
death ;  weary,  weeping,  trembling,  He  sits  on  the  cold  earth,  on  which 
He  has  fallen  three  times,  helplessly  prostrate.  Where  is  His  Mother, 
Mary,  in  this  hour  of  His  desolation  ?  Why  is  not  her  hand  here  to  lift 
that  drooping  brow  ?  why  are  His  friends  and  disciples  absent,  when  He 
needs  them  most  ?  Why  is  He  thus  forlorn  and  companionless  ?  Oh, 
sin  !  thou  art  the  cause.  "  He  was  wounded  for  our  iniquities.  He  was 
wounded  for  our  sine."  He  took  upon  Himself  the  crimes  of  the  whole 
world  to  be  expiated  by  the  last  drop  of  His  sacred  blood.  The  hour  of 
His  self-sacrifice  has  come;  and  of  all  the  stages  of  His  Passion,  perhaps 
this  is  the  most  bitter,  the  most  torturing.  Amidst  the  gloom  of  the 
garden  He  turns  on  every  side,  but  finds  no  comfort,  no  consolation.  On 
one  side,  He  sees,  drawn  in  dread  array,  all  the  iniquities  that  man  had 
ever  committed,  or  ever  would  commit,  to  the  end  of  time,  crying  out  for 
the  blood  of  the  victim-God :  on  the  other.  He  beholds,  lowering  over 
His  soul,  the  horrible  shadow  of  sorrow,  even  to  death.  Think  not  that, 
because  He  is  God,  His  sufferings  are  diminished;  nay,  on  that  account, 
they  are  rather  intensified,  to  an  infinite  acuteness.  As  the  Omniscient 
God,  He  sees  those  sorrows  bearing  down  upon  Him,  like  the  hideous, 
destroying  monsters  of  a  feverish  dream ;  as  helpless  man,  He  cannot 
avert  the  doom,  but  succumbs,  in  the  impotence  of  exhausted  nature,  to 
the  crushing  weight  of  inexorable  pain.  And  this  is  thy  work,  O  man  ! 
this  is  the  triumph  of  thy  sated  passions ;  those  blood-drops  forced  from 
the  brow  of  the  meekest  of  men,  are  the  trophies  of  thy  war  with  God. 
Worse  in  thy  malice  than  the  Archangel  in  his  pride ;  he,  with  blind 
rashness,  dared  high  heaven  ;  you  bruise  the  bruised  reed :  he  coped  with 
the  Almighty  power  of  his  Creator ;  you  crush  your  Saviour  in  His  dying 
hour.     O  cruelty  of  sinful  man  !  you  drive  your  Divine  victim  into  dark- 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  653 

ness  and  solitude;  you  cast  Him  to  the  earth,  bathed  in  the  crimson 
streams  of  His  own  most  sacred  blood ;  you  shed  over  His  soul  a  sorrow, 
impregnated  with  all  the  bitterness  of  death ;  you  hold  up  before  His 
vision  the  chalice  of  agony,  which  He  must  drain  to  the  very  dregs,  be- 
fore another  sun  shall  set ;  you  abandon  Him  ruthlessly  to  His  wretched- 
ness ;  and,  while  the  angels  of  heaven  weep  over  His  unmitigable  sorrows, 
you  sleep  on,  in  the  undisturbed  repose  of  a  remorseless  heart !  Three 
times,  in  the  weaker  nature  of  the  Saviour's  humanity,  shrinking  from 
the  .frightful  ordeal  before  Him,  He  cries  out  to  His  Heavenly  Father, 
begging  that,  if  possible,  the  bitter  chalice  might  pass  away  from  Him ; 
but  that  Father,  His  only  refuge  'mid  the  horrors  of  His  desolation, 
seems  deaf  to  His  forlorn  entreaties.  Three  times  He  goes  to  His 
apostles,  to  beg  that  they  might  join  their  prayers  to  His ;  but,  alas  !  He 
finds  them  wrapt  in  slumber,  and  unconscious  of  the  horrors  that  dark- 
ened their  Master's  soul.  An  angel  from  heaven  comes  down  to  console 
Him,  but  only  begs  that  He  may  not  decline  the  expiation  of  our  sins  ; 
and  so  Jesus,  the  Divine  victim  of  mortal  sin,  lies  prostrate  on  the  cold 
earth,  the  only  Being,  amid  the  wide  range  of  God's  creation,  without 
a  ray  of  comfort  to  cheer  Him  in  His  miseries ;  forgotten  by  His  crea- 
tures, and  almost  unthought  of  by  the  Creator,  the  Great  Giver  of  all 
consolation.  But,  see !  a  light  breaks  through  the  darkness  that  hangs 
round  Gethsemani,  and  the  voices  and  footsteps  of  approaching  men  are 
heard  through  the  stillness  of  the  starless  night.  Perhaps  some  tender 
hearts  are  moved  to  compassion  ;  and  perhaps  some  gentle  voices  come 
to  pour  the  balm  of  consolation  into  the  Saviour's  ear.  Alas,  no  I 
What !  and  must  another  drop  of  bitterness,  still  more  bitter,  be  added 
to  the  cup  of  Jesus'  sorrows  ?  Oh  !  yes ;  for  the  glaring  light  of  the  mid- 
night torches  reveals  to  His  sacred  gaze  the  features  of  the  traitor  Judas 
— of  one  who  sat  that  night  at  His  sacred  table,  and  who  now  comes 
with  a  kiss,  the  emblem  of  peace,  to  betray  his  Master,  for  lucre,  into  the 
hands  of  armed  men  ! 

Follow  the  afflicted  Jesus,  now  abandoned  by  all  His  friends,  to  the 
court  of  Caiphas,  where,  if  any  ray  of  consolation  yet  gleamed  through 
His  sorrows,  it  was  extinguished  by  the  fall  of  His  beloved  apostle, 
Peter.  Oh  !  was  not  this  affliction  sufficient  of  itself  to  wring  with  agony 
the  soul  of  the  tender  Jesus?  to  see  him  who  was  so  loved  by  his 
Master,  the  very  Prince  of  the  Apostles,  fall  into  a  blasphemous  denial 
that  he  ever  knew  Him  !  See  how,  after  confessing  that  He  was  the  Son 
of  God,  those  monsters  of  iniquity  cry  out,  "  Blasphemy  !  blasphemy  !  " 
How,  like  so  many  furies  let  loose  from  hell,  they  rush  upon  their  unre- 
sisting Victim,  and  discharge  upon  Him  all  kinds  of  blows,  and  affronts, 
and  injuries !  how  they  spit  upon  their  Saviour's  face,  and  disgorge  their 


654  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

filthy  phlegm  upon  His  sacred  forehead  !  how  they  scoff  and  ridicule 
Him  !  how  He  stands,  with  His  hands  tied  behind  His  back,  to  offer  less 
resistance  to  their  insults ;  thus  fulfilling  the  words  of  the  prophet,  "  He 
was  led  like  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter,  and  like  the  lamb  before  his  shearer. 
He  opened  not  His  mouth."  In  fine,  see  how  He  spent  the  night  amongst 
those  demons,  the  horrors  of  which  no  Evangelist  has  attempted  to  de- 
scribe, and  whose  secrets  of  iniquity  shall  not  be  revealed  until  He  comes, 
the  God  of  Vengeance,  on  the  judgment  day,  'mid  the  terrible  glories  of 
Jehosaphat. 

When  morning  dawns  on  the  horrors  of  that  dreadful  night,  are  Jesus* 
sorrows  to  have  an  end  ?  No  ;  for  then  He  is  led  forth  through  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem  to  the  court  of  Pontius  Pilate,  the  Roman  Governor, 
by  a  brutal  mob  thirsting  for  His  sacred  blood.  He  who,  but  a  few  days 
before,  passed  through  those  same  streets  in  triumph,  when  the  same 
people  strewed  His  way  with  palm-branches,  now  is  led  along,  a  miserable 
captive,  to  meet  the  inevitable  sentence  of  a  cruel  death.  Submissive, 
yet  undaunted.  He  stands  before  the  heathen  governor,  who  is  so  stricken 
with  His  innocence,  that  even  he  seeks  to  set  Him  free ;  but  the  crowd 
will  not  be  satisfied,  and  so  the  humble  Jesus  is  led  away  to  Herod,  and 
from  Herod  back  again  to  Pilate,  clothed  with  the  garment  of  a  fool,  a 
subject  for  mockery  and  derision  to  all  His  savage  spectators.  See  how 
Pilate,  as  if  to  gratify  the  bloodthirsty  Jews  with  something  less  than  our 
Saviour's  death,  orders  Him  to  be  scourged  at  a  pillar,  and  so  the  humble 
Jesus  is  stripped  of  His  clothes,  and  bound  to  that  pillar,  as  if  He  were  a 
wild  beast,  and  not  the  mildest  of  men.  See  how  He  is  scourged  by 
those  brutal  soldiers  till  the  blood  comes  streaming  from  every  pore,  and 
the  flesh  is  torn  from  His  sacred  limbs ;  and  yet  amid  those  nameless  tor- 
tures. He  sheds  no  tear  of  sorrow  for  Himself,  but  only  thinks  of  saving 
sinful  man  ! 

In  this  miserable  state  of  body  and  soul,  Jesus  is  led  forth  into  an 
open  court,  where  He  is  seated  upon  a  stool  for  a  throne,  clothed  with 
a  red  garment  as  a  mock  king;  with  a  crown  of  thorns  upon  His  head, 
and  a  reed  for  a  sceptre  in  His  hands.  There  He  sits  with  streams  of 
blood  gushing  down  His  sacred  face,  while  those  barbarian  soldiers  bend 
the  knee  in  mockery  before  Him,  and  say  with  tones  of  feigned  sub- 
mission to  His  regal  power,  "Hail,  King  of  the  Jews!"  Oh!  my 
brethren,  let  us  too  bend  our  knees  in  spirit,  and  not  only  our  knees,  but 
our  heads,  and  hearts,  and  whole  being,  in  adoration  of  Him  who  there 
sits,  not  only  King  of  the  Jews,  but  King  of  kings,  and  Monarch  of 
worlds  unnumbered.  Let  us  behold  Him  as  He  there  sits,  with  a  Divine 
meekness  beaming  in  His  downcast  eyes,  and  no  swelling  of  indignation 
ruffling  His  sacred  bosom  against  the  monsters  who  surround  Him.    Ah  1 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  655 

little  they  knew  (though  they  should  have  known),  that  He  who  sits 
before  them,  in  that  garb  of  misery,  is  no  other  than  the  only  Son  of  the 
Living  God:  "the  figure  of  His  Father's  substance,  and  the  splendor  of 
His  glory";  that  it  is  He  who  but  spake,  and  myriads  of  worlds  bounded 
into  light :  that  it  is  He  who,  as  the  Psalmist  sings,  "  hath  put  on  praise 
and  beauty  ;  who  is  clothed  with  light  as  with  a  garment ;  who  stretcheth 
out  the  heavens  as  a  pavilion ;  who  maketh  the  clouds  His  chariot,  and 
walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  winds ;  who  hath  founded  the  earth  upon 
its  basis  ;  it  shall  not  be  moved  forever  "  (Ps.  ciii.).  Little  they  know  as 
they  strike  that  sacred  face,  that  He  could,  with  a  word,  call  forth  legions 
of  those  bright  angels  that  attend  with  flaming  swords  on  His  Divinity, 
to  crush  each  mocker  into  dust,  and  fling  down  the  precipice  of  hell  each 
soul  that  dares  to  scorn  the  majesty  of  His  Godhead !  But  the  fatal  blow 
is  suspended  by  His  mercy,  for  the  work  of  redemption  must  be  con- 
summated on  Calvary,  with  the  last  expiring,  sigh  of  Jesus. 

A  few  moments  more,  the  insulting  alternative  of  Jesus  or  Barabbas 
being  accepted  in  favor  of  the  robber  and  murderer,  a  thousand  voices 
rend  the  air  with  shout^  of  exulting  madness,  "Away  with  Him,  away 
with  Him!  crucify  Him,  crucify  Him!"  A  few  moments  yet  again,  and 
we  behold  a  spectacle  from  which  our  common  humanity  shrinks  with 
ineffable  horror  and  disgust,  the  Divine  Redeemer  of  men  toiling  up  the 
Hill  of  Calvary,  beneath  a  heavy  cross,  which  He  must  bear  to  the  place 
of  execution,  and  on  which  He  must  hang,  till  He  expire.  The  last  drops 
of  that  perspiring  brow  start  forth,  and  mingle  with  His  streaming  blood. 
The  scourge  of  the  executioner  reveals  new  gashes  after  every  faltering 
step:  the  infuriated  rabble  shout  and  exult  over  every  fresh  agony  of 
their  victim,  Jesus'  supernatural  strength  is  at  length  exhausted  by 
accumulated  miseries.  He  thrice  falls  beneath  His  fatal  burden,  for  oh! 
it  were  easy  to  bear  that  pile  of  wood,  but  to  bear  each  sin  of  Adam 
and  Adam's  children — that  permeated  its  very  essence,  there  was  the 
ingredient  of  its  weight,  that  unnerved  the  limbs  of  Jesus,  and  cast  Him 
prostrate  on  the  blood-stained  earth ;  and  yet,  when  some  tender-hearted 
women  wept  tears  of  sympathy  for  His  sorrows,  see  how  He  forgets  His 
own  sufferings,  and  thinks  only  of  the  sins  that  have  occasioned  them. 
"  Weep  not,"  He  says,  "  for  me,  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  but  weep  for 
yourselves  and  for  your  children." 

And  now  the  moment  is  come  for  this  cruel  mob  to  be  satiated  with 
the  sight  of  our  Saviour's  last  expiring  agonies,  and  Jesus  arrives 
with  His  heavy  load  at  the  height  of  Calvary.  Behold  your  Redeemer, 
drooping  to  the  earth,  desolate  and  abandoned,  with  scarce  one  friendly 
voice  soothing  Him  in  this  extremity  of  woe,  scarce  one  friendly  sigh 
compassionating  His  sorrows  !     Behold  Him  nailed  on  the  ground  to  the 


656  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

rude  rough  cross  with  coarse  nails  pierced  through  His  sacred  hands  and 
feet,  from  which,  as  from  His  whole  body,  the  blood  flows  in  copious 
streams !  See  how  He  opens  not  His  mouth  to  ask  for  milder  treatment ; 
see  how  no  deprecating  glance  issues  for  the  sympathy  of  the  beholders ; 
see  how  He  is  gradually  lifted  up  into  the  air,  and  how,  at  length,  the 
huge  cross  falls  into  the  cavity  prepared  for  it,  with  a  jolt  that  shoots  new 
pangs  through  all  His  sacred  frame ;  see  how  through  His  sacred  limbs 
each  bone  is  distorted  from  its  place,  till  the  words  of  the  Prophet  are 
fulfilled,  "  They  have  dug  my  hands  and  feet ;  they  have  numbered  all 
my  bones."  He  is  lifted  up,  and  as  the  furious  rabble  behold  Him  raised 
above  their  heads,  they  rend  the  air  with  shouts  of  triumph  and  brutal 
exultation  that  rend  the  soul  of  the  compassionate  Jesus.  Oh !  let  us  for 
a  moment  go  to  the  foot  of  Calvary,  and  behold  with  different  eyes  that 
scene  on  which  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  look  with  wonder  and 
admiration.  Christians,  behold  the  victim  Jesus,  as  He  there  hangs 
between  two  thieves,  with  the  scornful  motto  over  His  head,  "Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews," — with  barbarous  soldiers  and  an  infuriated 
rabble,  making  the  cup  of  His  sorrows  more  bitter  by  their  blasphemies 
and  reproaches.  Behold  Him  with  His  sacred  head  drooping  on  His 
chest;  His  face  pale  and  besmeared  with  gore,  from  the  thorns  that 
pressed  His  sacred  brow:  His  heart's  pulse  beating  gradually  slower  and 
slower  as  the  moment  of  death  draws  near;  His  mortal  thirst  only 
mocked  with  the  sedatives  of  vinegar  and  gall ;  His  whole  body  bruised 
and  lacerated:  and  His  soul,  oh!  yes,  it  is  His  soul  that  truly  feels  the 
sharp  arrows  of  affliction.  Martyrs  have  suffered  tortures  that  defy  the 
conceptions  of  human  fancy ;  they  have  been  torn  limb  from  limb,  they 
have  been  roasted  slowly  to  death,  they  have  languished  in  filthy  prisons, 
'mid  worms  and  insects,  and  in  the  end  have  been  brought  forth  and 
devoured  by  lions  and  tigers  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  Roman  Amphi- 
theatres !  But  amid  those  horrors,  sunbeams  of  gladness  shone  over  their 
souls,  for  they  saw  in  visions  the  bright  halls  of  heaven  opened  to  their 
gaze,  and  the  arms  of  the  Omnipotent  and  His  angels  stretched  out  to 
receive  them,  until  they  forgot  their  pains,  and  felt  even  on  earth  the 
absorbing  joy  and  bliss  of  heaven.  Not  so  with  Jesus ;  from  Him  all 
comfort  and  consolation  had  fled.  Man  had  cursed,  condemned,  and 
crucified  Him  ;  hdf  had  opened  its  gates  and  let  forth  its  demons  against 
Him  ;  each  sin  that  man  had  ever  committed,  or  even  would  commit  to 
the  end  of  time,  rose  before  His  all-seeing  vision,  and  inflicted  a  separate 
crucifixion.  You  and  I,  alas !  rose  too  before  His  Divine  soul,  and  were 
seen  to  shout,  "  Away  with  Him,  away  with  Him!  crucify  Him,  crucify 
Him ! "  No  angel  now  descends  from  the  bjack  vault  of  heaven,  with 
the  light  of  comfort  gleaming  on  his  golden  wings,  for  His  Heavenly 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  657 

Father  has  Himself  abandoned  Him,  till  we  hear  Him  crying  out  in 
all  the  horror  of  utter  desolation,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  Thou 
forsaken  me  ?  " 

And  why  all  this,  O  Jesus  ?  Why  art  Thou  forgotten  and  forlorn,  as 
if  Thou  wert  an  outcast  from  the  human  race,  and  not  the  Lord  of  angels 
and  of  men  ?  Oh  !  why,  but  because  Thou  canst  show  Thy  love  for  man 
no  better  than  by  shedding  for  him  the  last  drop  of  Thy  sacred  blood, 
and  suffering  for  him  all  the  anguish  which  heaven  can  afflict,  or  Thy 
sacred  soul  endure  ?  Christians,  weep  for  your  Saviour,  since  no  one  else 
will  do  so.  But  what  have  I  said  ?  Does  no  one  weep  for  Jesus?  Oh  ! 
yes,  there  are  a  few  at  the  foot  of  that  sacred  cross  who  weep,  but  who 
only  increase  His  sorrows  by  their  affectionate  tears.  Remarkable  above 
those  weeping  few,  are  two  whose  tears  of  sympathy  flow  with  more  than 
common  profuseness  for  the  dying  Jesus.  These  are  His  Mother,  Mary, 
and  the  penitent  Magdalen.  Oh !  see  that  tender  Mother,  of  whom  it 
had  been  foretold  that  "  a  sword  of  grief  should  pierce  her  soul."  "  All 
you  who  pass  by  the  way,  attend  and  see  is  there  any  sorrow  like  unto 
her  sorrow."  See  how  her  eyes  are  red  with  weeping,  and  her  heart  ready 
to  burst  with  an  agony  of  woe.  Oh  !  mothers,  think  what  would  be  your 
feelings  of  sorrow,  if  you  saw  the  child  of  your  bosom,  innocent  and 
good,  dying  naked  on  a  rough  cross  before  the  gaze  of  cold  and  brutal 
men,  and  then  you  may  have  some  faint  idea  of  this  tender  mother's 
grief.  Behold  Magdalen,  who  weeps  so  much,  not  for  the  sorrows  of  her 
Saviour,  as  for  the  part  which  her  own  iniquities  have  had  in  His  present 
affliction  and  distress.  On  her  cheeks  the  tears  of  sympathizing  woman 
commingle  with  those  of  the  repentant  sinner.  Go,  Christians,  join  your 
tears  with  those  of  this  holy  pair ;  weep  with  Mary  for  the  sorrows  of 
your  Saviour,  and  with  Magdalen  for  your  sins,  which  have  nailed  Him 
to  the  cross. 

For  the  space  of  three  hours  that  Jesus  hung  upon  the  cross,  the  sun 
refused  to  give  his  light;  dark  clouds  floated  sadly  through  the  sky; 
thunders  rolled,  and  lurid  lightnings  lent  a  more  funeral  tinge  to  the  pall- 
like aspect  of  the  heavens.  His  tender  heart  had  forgotten  the  cruelty 
and  impiety  of  His  executioners,  and  He  had  prayed,  in  broken  accents, 
for  their  pardon  and  forgiveness,  saying,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they 
know  not  what  they  do."  Seeing  the  fatal  moment  was  at  hand.  He  had 
exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice,  "  It  is  consummated,"  and  then  had  cried 
out,  "  Father,  into  Thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit."  A  huge  eclipse 
darkens  the  face  of  the  earth.  Nature,  in  her  sable  and  terrific  dress, 
pauses  for  the  dread  event  with  all  the  appearance  of  awe  and  terror.  A 
horrid  stillness  prevails.  Suddenly  the  earth  trembles,  the  veil  of  the 
temple  is  rent,  the  graves  open,  and  the  reanimated  corpses  of  the  dead 


658  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

wander  once  more  upon  the  earth,  in  all  the  grim  ghastliness  of  the 
tomb.  The  Saints  of  the  Old  Law,  so  long  imprisoned,  await  the  coming 
of  Him  who  was  to  rend  their  prison-bars  asunder;  the  Eternal  Father 
surrounded  by  His  myriad  angels,  looks  down  expectant  from  His 
imperishable  throne,  when  'midst  the  tremulous  silence  of  eternal  space, 
lifting  up  His  Sacred  Head,  the  Divine  Jesus  dies !  He  is  dead:  dead. 
Who  is  dead?  Jesus  the  only  Son  of  the  Living  God;  God  Himself. 
Oh  !  sinners,  behold  the  work  of  your  hands,  behold  the  sacrifice  you 
have  sought ;  suspended  betwixt  earth  and  heaven,  torn,  livid,  bloodless, 
lifeless,  hangs  the  body  of  Jesus,  the  victim  of  your  iniquities,  the  victim 
of  His  own  tender  love.  Sin!  thou  hast  done  thy  bloody  work;  thou 
hast  pierced  with  thorns  that  brow  where  meekness  loved  to  sit 
enthroned ;  thou  hast  besmeared  with  gore  that  beauteous  face ;  thou 
hast  rent  with  whips  and  cords  that  tender  flesh ;  thou  hast  opened  those 
sacred  veins,  from  which  the  last  drops  of  life-blood  have  just  ebbed. 
Sin,  art  thou  satiated  ?  Thou  hast  put  God  to  death ;  what  greater 
sacrifice  couldst  thou  exact?  But  thy  triumph  has  recoiled  upon  thyself; 
His  death  has  crushed  thy  destructive  power.  "  Death,"  He  cries,  "  I 
will  be  thy  death."  Sin  can  kill  eternally  no  longer;  it  is  Jesus  who  is 
now  victorious.  Oh !  death,  where  is  now  thy  victory  ?  Oh  !  death,  where 
is  now  thy  sting  ? 

However  we  may  moralize  on  the  sufferings  and  death  of  our  Divine 
Redeemer,  however  we  may  admire  the  unspeakable  love  displayed  by 
Him  for  us  in  every  stage  of  His  bitter  Passion,  there  is  one  con- 
clusion to  which  we  should  come;  there  is  one  practical  resolu- 
tion we  should  make.  That  conclusion  is,  that  sin  is  the  greatest 
of  all  evils,  the  greatest  insult  we  could  offer  to  God,  inasmuch  as 
every  repetition  of  it  has,  of  its  own  nature,  a  tendency  to  force  the 
Son  of  God  once  more  through  the  terrible  ordeal  of  suffering 
which  we  have  just  contemplated.  That  resolution  should  be,  never 
again  to  offend  our  God.  Is  there  any  one  in  this  vast  assemblage  who 
has  listened  attentively  to  the  recital  of  Jesus'  sufferings,  and  would  wan-, 
tonly  commit  an  act  by  which  He  would  be  driven  once  more  through  the 
agonies  of  Gethsemani,  and  the  death-woes  of  Calvary?  Forbid  it,  nature/ 
Forbid  it,  heaven !  I  shall  not  weaken  your  abhorrence  of  sin  by  any 
other  argument  than  the  one  I  have  used,  namely,  the  bare  spectacle  of 
the  miseries  endured  by  the  Son  of  God  on  its  account.  Him  who  views 
that  picture,  and  sins  again,  beholding  it,  no  other  argument  could  move. 
Woe  is  him  indeed ;  yes,  woe  to  those  who  meditate  on  Jesus'  sufferings 
and  derive  no  moral  of  amendment  from  the  sacred  theme !  Woe  to 
those  to  whom  Good  Friday  comes,  but  comes  in  vain,  and  Easter  Sunday 
brings  no  spiritual  joy !     If  we  have  hitherto  offended  our  Gracious  God, 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  659 

let  us  remember  that  His  mercies  are  above  all  His  works.  The  history 
of  God's  Saints  is  the  history  of  God's  mercies.  Behold  His  Apostles! 
poor  fishermen  of  Galilee ;  once  weak  and  trembling,  they  march  through 
the  world  with  the  courage  of  giants,  armed  only  with  the  cross  of  their 
Lxaster,  and  shed  their  blood  with  smiles  of  joy  for  that  Master's  sake ! 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  the  persecutor  of  the  Christians,  is  converted  into  Paul 
the  Apostle  of  Christ ;  "  the  Lamb,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  who  was  slain 
by  wolves,  converts  the  wolf  into  a  lamb."  "  If  need  be  that  I  glory," 
cries  out  St.  Paul,  "  I  will  glory  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by 
whom  the  world  is  crucified  to  me  and  I  to  the  world." 

Augustine  himself,  that  miracle  of  sanctity,  and  prodigy  of  genius, 
squanders  the  flower  of  his  youth  in  luxury,  wantonness,  and  infidelity ; 
but  his  admiration  for  the  heroes  of  antiquity  is  suddenly  lost  in  his  love 
for  the  Victim  of  Calvary ;  his  tears  for  the  sorrows  of  a  fabled  queen  are 
turned  to  wailings  for  the  agonies  of  his  Saviour ;  and  his  enthusiasm  for 
the  high-sounding  periods  of  Cicero  is  exalted  into  ecstasies  for  the  elo- 
.quence  of  Jesus. 

Ignatius,  the  wayward  soldier  of  a  worldly  king,  is  converted  into  an 
immortal  champion  of  the  King  of  Glory ;  while  Xavier,  the  pampered 
child  of  fortune,  lays  his  wealth,  his  nobility,  his  youth  and  beauty  at  the 
feet  of  his  crucified  Saviour;  and,  leaving  his  beloved  Spain,  wanders 
away  to  lands  where  rage  an  Indian  sun  and  Indian  ferocity,  to  announce 
the  Gospel  of  the  Lord,  and  preach  the  glories  of  the  cross.  Kings  and 
princes  have  wearied  of  the  glories  of  the  world,  and,  at  their  Master's 
call,  stripping  off  their  royal  robes,  have  followed  in  sackcloth  and  ashes 
the  footsteps  of  the  "  Man  of  Sorrows";  and,  exchanging  the  sceptre  for 
the  cross,  have  won  an  unfading  crown  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Saviour. 
Millions  of  men,  at  various  stages  of  the  Church's  history,  have  meditated 
on  the  Passion  of  the  Lord ;  and,  while  they  might  have  lived  and  died 
the  slaves  and  victims  of  sin,  have  freely  shed  their  very  life-blood 
to  testify  their  devotion  to  Jesus  of  Calvary ;  and  so,  instead  of  sharing 
the  everlasting  torments  of  the  damned,  they  now  reign  in  glory  and 
jubilation,  with  the  never-fading  wreath  of  martyrdom  encircling  their 
brows,  loving  and  beloved  by  the  Almighty. 

So,  my  brethren,  shall  it  be  with  you,  if  you  meditate  as  you  ought  on 
this  great  subject ;  your  souls  are  precious  in  the  sight  of  God  as  those  of 
His  Saints  or  His  Apostles.  He  shed  His  blood  for  you  as  well  as  He 
did  for  them.  He  makes  no  exception  when  He  says,  "  He  who  would 
come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me." 
His  cross  is  a  cure  for  every  sin  :  "  If  your  sins  were  as  red  as  scarlet,  they 
shall  be  made  as  white  as  wool."  It  is  a  soother  for  every  sorrow: 
*>■  Blessed  are  they  who  mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted."     It  is  riches 


660  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

to  the  poor :  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  It  is  food  and  drink  to  the  hungry  and  thirsty:  "Blessed  are 
they  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  have  their 
fill."  Well,  indeed,  might  St.  Paul  exclaim,  "  I  will  glory  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  for  the  glories  of  this  world  shall  pass  away,  but 
the  glories  of  the  cross  shall  be  celebrated  for  myriads  of  eternities.  If 
Jesus  asks  us  this  day  to  meditate  on  His  sufferings,  it  surely  is,  that  we 
may  be  brought  to  a  sense  of  our  danger,  and  fly  to  Him  for  pardon  and 
forgiveness.  See  how  He  receives  the  last  sighs  of  the  penitent  thief: 
"  This  day  thou  shalt  be  with,  me  in  Paradise."  Does  He  not  love  each 
of  us  as  much  as  He  loved  the  penitent  thief?  Is  He  not  the  Father  of 
the  prodigal  child  ?  Is  He  not  the  Shepherd  who  left  the  ninety-nine 
sheep,  and  sought  the  one  that  went  astray?  Oh !  go  to  the  foot  of  His 
cross  with  the  penitent  Magdalen,  and  shed  tears  of  sorrow  for  His  suflfer- 
in'gs  and  your  own  sins ;  and  when  the  glorious  morning  of  His  resurrec- 
tion comes,  go  forth  with  her  to  meet  Him,  no  more  with  tears,  or  if  it  be, 
with  tears  of  joy.  For  you  the  forty  days  of  Lent  shall  close  with  mourn- 
ing ;  but  when  they  will  have  passed  away,  a  day  of  joy  and  holy  exulta- 
tion will  break  forth,  when  weeping  and  sorrow  shall  be  no  more,  but 
peace,  and  a  serenity  of  soul,  which  sin  can  never  give,  and  which  sin 
alone  can  take  away.  If  this  night  you  ask  your  dying  Jesus  for  this 
grace,  think  you  He  will  refuse  you  ?  Ah,  no  !  He  has  suffered  too  much 
for  you  to  refuse  you  this  small  favor:  and  while  your  eyes  are  fixed  on 
Him,  forget  not  her  who  stands  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  feels  in  her 
soul  each  pang  that  pierces  His  Sacred  Heart ;  forget  not  the  Immaculate 
Mother  of  Jesus.  Remember  that  He  has  consigned  you  to  her  maternal 
care,  in  the  words  addressed  to  His  beloved  disciple :  "  Son,  behold  thy 
mother !"  Ask  of  her  that  she  may  obtain  for  you  pardon  of  your  sins, 
and  the  grace  never  to  offend  Him  more.  And  when  the  day  of  His 
second.  His  glorious  appearance,  comes  in  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  let 
us  hope  that  He  will  welcome  each  one  of  us  to  the  kingdom  of  His 
glory,  in  the  sweet  consoling  words,  "Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful 
servant ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  Then  shall  we  rejoice  for 
an  endless  eternity,  that  on  this  night  we  were  converted  to  Him  who 
was  "  wounded  for  our  iniquities,"  who  was  "bruised  for  our  sins."  Oh, 
Jesus !  God  of  mercy,  God  of  love !  Oh,  Divine  Lamb !  who  has  sacri- 
ficed Thyself  for  our  salvation  !  O  Victim,  consumed  by  the  fire  of 
Thine  own  sorrows !  grant  us  the  grace  to  love  Thee  as  Thou  dost  de- 
serve to  be  loved.  Oh !  would  that  we  could  die  for  Thee,  as  Thou  hast 
died  for  us.  Hitherto,  alas!  we  have  lived  for  ourselves,  for  our  passions, 
for  our  sins :  grant  us,  for  the  remainder  of  our  lives,  to  live  only  for 
Thee,  Jesus,  our  God,  our  love,  our  all !     Amen. 


§tuine  §lefu0e. 


SERMON   ON    DIVINE   PROVIDENCE. 

"  The  multiplication  of  the  loaves  and  fishes." — John  vi. 

|HE  miracle  here  recorded,  performed,  as  it  was,  so  strikingly 
and  so  manifestly  in  opposition  to  the  law  of  nature,  cannot 
fail  to  excite  in  our  minds  the  most  profound  astonishment- 
An  immense  multitude  of  people,  numbering  about  five  thou- 
sand, attracted  by  that  inexpressible  charm  which  ever  attached  to  our 
Divine  Redeemer,  followed  Him  across  the  sea  of  Galilee,  forgetful  of 
their  homes,  their  occupations,  and  their  physical  wants,  and  thinking 
themselves  amply  repaid  for  their  privations  if  they  could  only  catch 
those  delightful  words  that  fell  softly  and  vivifyingly  as  the  dews  of 
heaven  from  His  sacred  lips.  The  tender  heart  of  Jesus  was  touched  by 
their  self-sacrificing  devotion,  and,  grateful  as  He  is  for  the  slightest  ex- 
hibition of  love  from  His  creatures.  He  could  not  leave  unrewarded  a 
self-denial  so  perfect,  and  an  attachment  so  sincere.  He  ordered  the 
multitude  to  sit  down  upon  the  grass,  and  taking  five  barley  loaves  and 
two  fishes,  the  only  eatable  things  within  reach.  He  so  multiplied  them 
that  not  only  were  the  multitude  satiated,  but  twelve  baskets  were  filled 
with  the  fragments  of  the  feast.  This  was  truly  a  most  stupendous 
miracle,  calculated  to  exhaust  all  the  resources  of  our  praise  and  admira- 
tion. In  striving  to  comprehend  it,  we  become  convinced  of  the  littleness 
of  reason  ;  in  believing  it  as  God's  unerring  Word,  we  are  impressed  with 
the  magnitude  of  faith,  and  are  forced  to  exclaim  with  the  Psalmist, 
"  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel,  who  alone  doth  wonderful 
things." 

And  yet,  if  we  are  filled  with  admiration  in  contemplating  the  magnifi- 
cence of  this  miracle,  and  if  we  give  glory  to  God  for  the  power  and  love 
evinced  in  its  performance,  how  comes  it  that  we  regard  with  indifference 
far  more  astounding  wonders  wrought  every  day  under  our  own  eyes  by 
His  omnipotent  hand?  Is  not  the  creation,  and,  perhaps  still  more,  the 
conservation  and  government  of  the  universe,  a  far  more  stupendous 
miracle  than  that  recorded  in  the  Gospel  of  this  day?  Who  was  it  that 
filled  and  fed  the  multitudes  beyond  the  sea  of  Galilee  with  a  few  loaves 
miraculously  multiplied,  but  He  who  every  day  feeds  and  fills  the  millions 
of  the  world  with  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  in  comparison  to  whose  enormous 

(661) 


662  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

produce  the  few  seeds  from  which  they  spring  are  infinitesimally  small?" 
Who  was  it  that  multiplied  the  two  small  fishes,  but  He  who  fills  the  im- 
mense depths  of  the  ocean  with  those  numberless  living  creatures,  which, 
after  having  supplied  the  wants  of  the  human  race,  leave  a  vast  remainder 
that  seem  to  exist  for  no  other  end  than  to  excite  the  wonder  and  extort 
the  praise  of  man  ?  And  yet  we  behold  these  wonders  of  Providence  un- 
moved ;  we  regard  them  as  ordinary  events,  as  if  they  were  matters  in 
which  we  had  no  concern — matters  which  seem  to  have  no  claims  upon 
our  admiration,  much  less  upon  our  gratitude  to  God.  How  different 
was  the  conduct  of  the  multitude,  as  described  in  the  Gospel.  When 
they  saw  their  wants  so  miraculously  supplied,  they  cried  out  in  amaze- 
ment, "This  is  of  a  truth  the  prophet  that  is  come  unto  the  world," 
and  they  were  about  to  take  Him  by  force  and  make  Him  their  king. 
What  a  lesson  may  not  we  Christians,  we  followers  of  that  wonder-work- 
ing Christ,  learn  from  the  example  of  those  poor  unevangelized,  untutored 
men !  It  is  time  that  we  open  our  eyes  to  the  wonders  of  God's  Provi- 
dence with  which  we  are  surrounded,  and  of  which  this  miracle  is  so 
striking  a  symbol ;  it  is  time  that  we  offer  the  long-denied  homage  of  our 
hearts  to  that  eternal  benevolence  which  has  created  us  for  bliss,  and 
which  sustains  us  by  its  invisible  power 'until  we  attain  that  end.  It  is 
strange,  my  brethren,  that  from  constant  familiarity  we  are  unmoved  by 
certain  spectacles  which,  seen  for  the  first  time,  would  excite,  in  the  most 
intense  degree,  the  passions  of  our  souls.  Thus,  if  a  man  born  blind 
were  suddenly  restored  to  sight,  in  what  language  could  he  convey  to  you 
the  feelings  of  his  soul  in  contemplating  the  marvels  of  creation  ?  What 
would  be  his  delight,  his  astonishment,  his  instinctive  outburst  of  praise  to 
the  Great  Creator  on  beholding  the  beams  of  the  summer  sun,  the  bound- 
less expanse  of  the. ocean,  smiling  fields,  the  lofty  mountains,  the  descend- 
ing shades  of  night  succeeded  by  the  light  of  the  placid  moon  and  stars ! 
But  we  have  seen  them  from  our  childhood  upwards,  and  only  by  forced 
reflection  can  we  think  of  the  Almighty  hand,  and  the  unbounded  love 
from  which  they  spring.  Divine  Providence  strews  the  pathway  of  life 
with  wonders,  and  we  see  them  not,  or  we  ignore  them.  Thus,  man  is 
deprived  of  much  merit,  and  God  of  much  praise  and  glory  which  are  His 
due.  Let  us  then,  for  a  few  brief  moments,  sit  in  fancy  on  the  summit  of 
some  majestic  mountain,, alone  with  God,  and  contemplate  His  ways  to 
man,  that  we  may  learn  two  useful  lessons,  to  confide  in  His  Divine 
Providence  with  courage  and  hope,  and  to  submit  to  it  with  docility  and 
resignation. 

And  where  shall  we  turn,  and  not  see  the  most  striking  evidence  of 
this  supreme  and  beneficent  power — conducting,  sustaining,  moving,  and 
governing  all  things.     We  see  God  in  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  celestial 


FATHER  BUCKLEY,  663 

luminaries ;  in  the  succession  of  seasons ;  in  the  alternation  of  night  and 
day ;  in  the  abundance  of  the  earth  for  the  uses  of  man  ;  in  the  regular 
motion  of  the  innumerable  spheres  around  us ;  in  the  harmony,  and 
beauty,  and  wisdom,  that  reign  throughout  all  creation.  "  How  great 
are  Thy  works,  O  Lord  !  "  said  the  Psalmist :  "  Thou  hast  done  all  things 
in  wisdom  ;  the  earth  is  filled  with  Thy  riches."  And  not  only  in  the 
general  management  of  the  universe  do  we  discern  His  Almighty  Provi- 
dence, but  in  the  special  care  which  God  takes  of  all  the  creatures  of  His 
hands,  and  chiefly  of  His  greatest  creature — man.  Go  where  you  will, 
and  God  is  your  guide,  your  protector,  and  your  safeguard.  "  He  hath 
given  His  angels  charge  over  thee,  lest  perchance  thou  knock  thy  foot 
against  a  stone";  and  again,  "  If  I  go  up  to  heaven,  ihou  art  there ;  if  I 
descend  into  hell.  Thou  art  present ;  if  I  take  my  wings  early  in  the 
morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even  there  Thy 
hand  shall  lead  me,  and  Thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me."  The  very  dis- 
orders which  we  perceive  in  the  moral  world  prove  the  existence  of  a  rul- 
ing Providence ;  for  how  can  we  call  it  disorder  unless  it  be  a  departure 
from  a  principle  of  order,  which  exists  somewhere  ?  It  exists,  namely,  in 
the  Providence  of  God,  which,  for  its  own  wise  ends,  permits  evil  here  to 
be  mixed  with  good,  that  the  evil  may  be  punished  hereafter,  and  the 
good  rewarded,  and  thus  the  balance  of  order  be  adjusted  for  eternity. 

It  is  not  wonderful,  indeed,  that  the  Pagans  of  old,  who  had  only  an 
imperfect  notion  of  the  Deity,  should  have  busied  themselves  so  much  in 
supplying  the  wants  of  life  and  in  meeting  the  exigencies  of  nature,  that 
they  should  have  limited  their  hopes  and  aspirations  to  the  goal  of  the 
grave.  Sitting  "  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow  of  death,"  it  is  not  won- 
derful that  they  were  ignorant  of  a  Divine  Providence  controlling  human 
affairs ;  that  they  should  have  regarded  themselves  as  the  makers  of  their 
own  good  or  evil  fortunes,  and  deemed  their  deities  no  less  than  blind  in- 
struments of  destiny,  incompetent  to  govern  the  world.  But  for  us,  my 
brethren,  who  are  enlightened,  and  who  recognize  a  beneficent  Providence, 
devoted  to  our  protection,  and  ever  mindful  of  our  wants,  would  it  not 
be  to  run  counter  to  the  lights  we  enjoy,  and  to  belie  the  faith  we  pro- 
fess, if  we  gave  ourselves  too  much  concern  for  the  things  of  this  passing 
world?  And  this  is  what  Christ  has  taught  us  in  His  Sermon  on  the 
Mount :  "  Seek  ye  first  the  Kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these  things  shall 
be  added  unto  you  ";  and  "  Be  ye  not  solicitous  what  you  may  eat,  or 
what  you  may  drink,  or  wherewith  you  may  be  clothed,  for  after  all  these 
things  do  the  heathens  seek.  For  your  Father  knoweth  that  you  have 
need  of  all  these  things."  What  more  do  you  want,  my  brethren,  to 
quiet  your  fears  and  apprehensions,  than  to  know  for  certain  that  your 
affairs  are  in  the  hands  of  God — in  the  hands  of  a  Being  whose  all-merci- 


/ 
664  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ful  eye  is  ever  directed  to  your  wants  and  necessities ;  whose  wisdom 
knows  how  to  provide  for  you ;  whose  bounty  is  inexhaustible  in  your 
regard ;  whose  Providence  is  equal  to  preserve  in  existence  what  His 
power  was  able  to  call  forth  from  nothing ;  whose  far-reaching  care  robes 
the  lily  of  the  field  in  a  glory  surpassing  that  of  Solomon  ?  Or  how  can 
you  imagine  for  a  moment  that  that  Great  God,  whose  attributes  are,  as 
they  are,  boundless,  could  abandon  to  distress  or  destruction  man,  the 
noblest  work  of  His  Almighty  hands?  that  He  could  act  thus,  of  whom 
the  Psalmist  sings,  "  Thou  openest  Thy  hands,  and  Thou  fillest  with  bless- 
ing every  living  creature."  He  who  made  the  seasons  to  succeed  each 
other,  that  the  earth  might  give  forth  -its  fruits  in  good  time !  And  if 
this  God,  of  such  magnificence  and  bounty,  has  sometimes  seemed  to  for- 
get you,  be  assured  it  was  not  so,  until  you  had  first  forgotten  Him.  Be 
faithful  to  Him,  and  the  sun  shall  fall  from  the  heavens  ere  He  abandon 
you.  "They  that  seek  the  Lord,"  cries  out  the  same  Psalmist,  "shall  not 
be  deprived  of  any  good."  Do  you  seek  proofs  of  this  Providence  of 
God  ?  Then  open  the  Sacred  Page,  and  read.  Behold  it  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  Israelites  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  the  infliction  of  plagues 
upon  their  enemies,  until  they  were  delivered  from  bondage.  Behold  it 
in  their  safe  passage  through  the  Red  Sea,  while  Pharaoh  and  his  chariots 
and  horsemen  were  sunk  in  the  wave.  Behold  it  in  the  manna  of  the 
wilderness,  and  in  the  miraculous  fountains  of  Horeb  ;  in  the  bread  pro- 
vided for  the  starving  Elias,  and  for  Daniel  in  the  lion's  den.  Behold  it 
in  the  miracle  by  which  a  few  loaves  and  fishes  were  made  to  feed  five 
thousand  souls.  But  why  seek  for  individual  examples?  Is  not  the 
whole  Sacred  Word  a  continuous  record  of  God's  unspeakable  Providence 
in  behalf  of  man  ? 

You,  my  brethren,  nevertheless,  sometimes  complain  and  murmur 
against  this  adorable  Providence  of  God,  when  the  world  ceases  to  go 
well  with  you.  And  why  does  not  the  world  go  well  with  you  ?  Why 
do  you  not  succeed  in  your  projects,  in  the  acquisition  of  this  good  for- 
tune, in  the  gratification  of  this  ambition  ?  It  is  because  you  defy  Provi- 
dence, or  act  as  if  no  Providence  were  there;  you  seek  by  every  means  to 
protect  yourself  against  accident,  as  if  your  safety  depended  on  yourselves 
alone  !  and  you  fear  not  that  that  Providence,  which  you  outrage  by  your 
contempt  of  it,  may  laugh  at  your  designs,  and  confound  the  false  wisdom 
of  your  plans.  Tormented  with  anxiety  to  increase  your  store,  or  with 
fear  lest  you  may  lose  it,  you  spend  your  days  in  trouble  and  alarm,  in 
hopes  and  disappointments :  you  amass,  and  God  scatters ;  you  plant,  and 
God  uproots ;  you  pretend  that  you  are  only  endeavoring  to  supply  the 
wants  of  nature,  but  Providence  tears  off  the  mask,  and  reveals  the  avarice 
and  cupidity  of  your  heart.     If  you  trusted  in  Providence,  indeed,  you 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  665 

would  have  no  anxiety  for  the  morrow ;  but  the  very  fear  you  endure 
shows  that  your  trust  is  not  in  the  Lord,  but  in  yourself. 

Many  are  the  pretexts  you  make  to  justify  this  defiance  of  Providence, 
and  this  cupidity  of  your  heart ;  you  admit  that,  in  all  pursuits,  your 
eternal  salvation  should  hold  the  first  place !  but  you  add  that,  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  necessary  to  have  wherewithal^to  live,  to  support  a  house- 
hold, a  family,  an  establishment.  Both  these  statements  are  quite  correct, 
and  all  would  be  well  if  you  acted  in  this  spirit.  But  you  seek  to  gain 
the  goods  of  life  by  crooked  ways,  by  over-industry.  Two  short  reflec- 
tions will  show  that  cupidity,  and  not  true  Christian  seeking,  is  at  the 
bottom  of  your  desires.  Do  you  not  seek  the  goods  of  life  more  eagerly 
than  the  goods  of  eternity?  Are  you  content  with  what  is  barely  neces- 
sary, or  do  you  not  seek  much  more  ?  What  is  this  but  cupidity  ?  Is  it 
not  to  subvert  the  order  which  God  has  established,  to  love  the  creature 
more  than  the  Creator?  to  prefer  earth  to  heaven,  to  choose  time  before 
eternity,  that  which  passes,  to  that  which  does  not  pass  away  ?  And  the 
ardor  with  which  you  seek  the  goods  of  earth  most  clearly  proves  how 
much  you  prefer  them  to  the  goods  of  heaven.  You  have,  for  example, 
been  warned  again  to  subdue  that  imperious  pride,  that  ungovernable 
anger  to  which  you  are  a  victfm  ;  to  repress  that  passion  for  intoxicating 
drinks ;  to  wean  your  tongue  from  those  blasphemies  and  obscenities ;  to 
be  reconciled  to  the  enemy  whom  you  have  offended  :  but  you  are  occu- 
pied with  the  cares  of  the  world,  and  the  remonstrances  of  conscience 
plead  with  you  in  vain.  I  will  think  of  my  salvation,  you  say^  when  I 
have  succeeded  in  this  or  that  arrangement — when  I  have  settled  my 
affairs.  But,  my  brethren,  if  this  devotion  of  yours  to  temporal  affairs  be 
just  and  reasonable,  the  danger  to  you  is  that  it  would  go  so  far  as  to 
make  you  forgetful  of  your  God,  and  insensible  to  the  interests  of  your 
immortal  soul !  It  is  permitted  to  you  to  provide  for  your  temporal 
affairs,  but  surely  it  is  not  permitted  you  to  neglect  the  affairs  of  eternity ; 
it  is  permitted  to  work  for  the  world,  but  you  must  not  forget  that  there 
is  a  world  beyond  the  grave,  for  which  you  must  labor  more.  How  differ- 
ent is  it  with  the  true  Christian !  Convinced  of  his  noble  origin  and  his 
glorious  destiny,  persuaded  that  here  he  has  no  lasting  city,  all  his  desires 
turn  heavenwards ;  and  if  sometimes  he  is  forced  to  turn  his  eyes  to 
earth,  and  struggle  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  his  soul  is  tranquil  with 
every  variety  of  fortune  ;  he  acts  without  concern  or  emotion,  because  all 
his  desires  are  regulated  by  reason  and  by  faith ;  he  seeks  only  what  he 
wants  ;  he  is  content  with  his  daily  bread.  God  tells  him  to  ask  no  more  ; 
and  if  once  he  raises  his  head  above  poverty,  there  is  nothing  he  fears  so 
much  as  abundance,  for  woe,  says  the  Scripture,  is  the  portion  of  the 
rich. 


666  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

My  brethren,  let  us  always  remember,  that  whatever  God  wishes  to 
happen  shall  happen;  that  no  man  can  oppose  His  Divine  Will.  -"All 
things,"  say  the  Saints,  "  are  in  Thy  power,  and  there  is  none  that  can 
resist  Thy  will."  It  is,  then,  of  necessity  that  we  submit  with  docility 
and  resignation  to  the  decrees  of  Providence,  for  these  decrees  shall  be 
executed,  whether  we  will  gr  ho.  If  we  yield  to  them,  we  shall  fulfil  our 
duty ;  if  we  oppose  them,  they  shall  oblige  us,  in  spite  of  us,  to  carry 
them  out.  He  who  strives  to  resist  God  is  like  the  ocean  in  a  tempest ; 
its  waves  rise  frantically  from  the  depths,  and  seem  to  grasp  at  heaven ; 
but  mount  they  ever  so  high,  they  fall  back  worsted  in  the  vain  attempt ; 
for  they  must  obey  the  voice  of  Him  who  said  to  the  deep,  "  thus  far 
shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther ;  and  here  thou  shalt  break  thy  swelling 
waves." 

And  if  inanimated  nature  obeys  so  faithfully  the  order  of  the  Creator, 
if  the  earth  remains  fixed  on  its  basis,  and  the  sun  and  stars  move  un- 
waveringly in  the  orbit  prescribed  for  them  by  Eternal  Wisdom,  how 
comes  it  that  man  alone,  the  noblest  work  of  all,  should  rebel  against  his 
God  ?  Is  it  for  this  he  received  the  glorious  gift  of  reason,  that  he  should 
signalize  himself  amongst  all  creatures  by  his  disobedience?  that  reason 
which  was  bestowed  upon  him  that  he  might  do  homage  to  his  Maker, 
that  he  might  render  Him  fit  worship  and  due  submission  ;  that  he  might 
adore  that  Supreme  Power  which  created,  and  that  Supreme  Intelligence 
which  governs  the  universe  !  Strange  error  of  man !  Know  you  not  that 
God  alone  can  have  an  arbitrary  will,  for  He  alone  is  independent,  and 
superior  to  all  other  beings  that  exist !  God  would  cease  to  be  supreme, 
if  man  could  do  as  he  pleases.  Let,  then,  the  Almighty  Power  execute 
His  will  according  to  His  pleasure ;  and  let  us,  weak  and  finite  creatures, 
be  content  to  obey. 

If  you  act  in  this  spirit,  God  will  be  with  you,  and  you  will  prosper. 
Behold  how  He  stood  by  the  patriarchs  of  old,  who  trusted  in  Him !  He 
sustained  Jacob  in  his  exile,  and  Joseph  in  his  bonds,  and  Moses  amid 
the  contradictions  of  a  rebellious  and  idolatrous  people.  Submission  to 
the  will  of  God  presents  to  us  in  Job  a  model  of  patience  the  most 
heroic,  in  the  midst  of  sufferings  impossible  to  conceive.  Animated  by 
this  spirit,  the  Apostles  and  first  Christians  remained  firmly  attached  to 
God,  in  long  fasts  and  vigils,  in  chains  and  dungeons,  in  good  and  evil 
fortune :  in  all  that  happened  they  beheld  the  finger  of  God ;  in  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  they  equally  blest  the  Lord.  Happy  indeed  is  he 
who  resigns  himself  wholly  to  the  will  of  God,  who  throws  oflF  all  reliance 
on  himself,  and  places  his  body  and  soul  in  the  safe  keeping  of  the  All- 
loving  and  the  All-wise  !  Peace  of  mind  is  the  first-fruit  of  this  submis- 
sion, as  it  is  the  foretaste  of  that  eternal  peace  which  is  to  be  its  reward. 


FATHER  BUCKLEY. 


667 


Without  this  submission  there  is  no  peace.  "  Who  has  resisted  Him," 
says  Job,  "and  had  peace?"  Tranquillity  of  mind  follows  the  man  of 
resignation,  through  crosses  and  adversities,  the  same  as  lighted  his  path- 
way in  the  hour  of  success :  and  never,  you  may  be  sure,  was  the  soul  of 
Job  more  joyous  than  when,  in  the  moment  of  his  utter  misery  and  des- 
titution, he  cried  out,  "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away. 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !  "  Thanks  beyond  measure,  exclaims 
the  true  Christian,  to  that  good  God,  to  that  wise  Providence,  who  has 
humiliated  me,  and  steeped  me  in  affliction :  because,  in  this  state,  I  have 
the  means  of  saving  my  immortal  soul  ;  of  procuring  true  peace  and  tran- 
quillity of  spirit ;  of  becoming  humble,  penitent,  and  resigned  ;  of  detach- 
ing myself  from  creatures,  and  uniting  myself  irrevocably  to  that  God  who 
never  abandons  those  that  trust  in  Him.  Oh,  my  God,  continues  the 
true  Christian,  I  make  this  declaration  to-day,  before  the  altar,  that  I,  and 
all  I  am  and  have,  belong  to  Thee.  It  is  not  want,  or  sickness,  or  humil- 
iation I  dread ;  I  only  fear  that  I  may  disobey  Thee.  Do  with  me  as 
Thou  wilt.  Nature  may  murmur  and  repine  ;  but,  not  my  will,  but  Thine, 
be  done.  Take  then,  my  brethren,  good  and  evil  alike  from  the  hands  of 
God,  for  He  knows  what  is  best  for  you.  If  good  come,  accept  it  with 
gratitude ;  if  ^vil,  bear  it  with  patience  and  resignation.  Only  ask,  at  all 
times,  that  the  holy  will  of  God  may  be  fulfilled  in  you,  that  it  may  be 
done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven ;  for  if  on  earth,  like  Christ,  you  carry 
your  cross,  like  Christ  in  heaven  you  shall  wear  the  crown. 


SERMON   ON    FILIAL  OBEDIENCE. 

"And  He  went  down  with  them,  and  came  to  Nazareth,  and  was  subject  to  them." — 

St.  Luke  ii.  51. 

[EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— The  leading  events  of 
our  Blessed  Saviour's  life  are  commemorated  on  the  several 
festivals  and  Sundays  throughout  the  year ;  and  reference  is 
made  to  them  in  portions  of  the  Gospel  recited  at  the  Sac- 
rifice of  the  Mass.  Between  the  finding  our  Divine  Lord  with  the  Doctors 
in  the  Temple,  and  the  commencement  of  His  public  career,  an  interval 
of  eighteen  years  elapses,  and  the  history  of  that  long  period  is  summed 
up  in  the  few  words  which  tell  us  that  Jesus  went  down  to  Nazareth 
with  His  parents,  and  "  was  subject  to  them."  During  that  large  passage 
of  the  Saviour's  life,  He,  the  Divine  Model  of  every  virtue  to  mankind, 
affords  to  children  the  most  perfect  pattern  of  filial  piety  and  obedience. 
Shining  through  the  vista  of  centuries,  the  light  of  His  example  comes  to 
illumine  us  to-day  on  this  solemn  obligation ;  and  as,  by  the  communion 
of  saints,  the  links  of  relationship  are  not  sundered,  even  in  death,  the 
lesson  is  addressed  to  us  all;  for  our  parents,  though  dead,  are  our 
parents  still,  and  may  be  assisted  by  our  prayers  and  good  works,  when 
no  other  manifestation  of  honor  can  be  made. 

Jesus,  then,  is  the  model  of  children.  Son  of  the  Eternal  Father — 
equal  to  Him  in  all  things,  omnipotent,  and  independent ;  but,  by  be- 
coming man,  by  bringing  Himself  down  to  the  level  of  humanity,  He  at 
once  subjected  Himself  not  only  to  His  Father,  but  to  His  own  creatures, 
Mary  and  Joseph.  Here  is  a  most  profound  mystery  of  abjection,  a 
most  sublime  lesson  to  the  human  race,  a  most  glorious  model  of  domes- 
tic life.  Children,  who  dare  to  despise  the  precepts  of  God,  who  dispute 
the  rights  of  parental  authority,  who  proclaim  the  liberty  to  govern  your- 
selves, go,  if  indeed  you  be  followers  of  Christ,  if  your  hopes  for  eternity 
be  founded  on  the  Christian  faith,  go  to  Nazareth,  and  there  contemplate 
the  King  of  kings ;  behold  Him  who  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth, 
renouncing  His  own  will,  and  voluntarily  subjecting  Himself  to  the  will 
of  two  mortal  beings,  called  into  existence  by  His  breath,  the  work  of 
His  own  Almighty  hands. 

The  obligation  of  children  to  their  parents  is  threefold :  namely,  an 
(668j 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  G69 

obligation  of  honor,  of  reverence,  of  service ;  and  I  will  ask  your  atten- 
tion while  I  show  you  how  far  this  triple  duty  is  founded  on  the  dictates 
of  reason  and  religion. 

First,  with  regard  to  honor.  This  includes  respect  and  love.  Why 
then  should  we  respect  our  parents  more  than  other  persons?  For 
this  reason :  that,  just  as  God,  because  He  is  the  first  principle  of  our 
creation,  is  entitled  to  our  respect  more  than  any  human  being  whatso- 
ever ;  so  our  parents  being,  after  God,  the  authors  of  our  existence,  we 
should  respect  them  most,  after  God.  Indeed  the  respect  due  to  God 
and  to  parents  has  been  always  designated  by  the  same  expression, 
namely,  filial  piety,  this  being  the  love  of  a  child  for  its  father,  whether 
temporal  or  eternal.  The  father  is  entitled  to  this  respect  on  account  of 
the  exalted  position  he  holds  toward  his  children.  He  is  to  them  the 
representative  of  God.  He  is  bound  to  teach  and  administer  to  them 
God's  law.  He  is,  as  it  were,  a  king  in  that  small  state  called  the  family ; 
there  he  exercises  a  sway  with  which  nature  has  invested  him,  and  which 
is  confirmed  to  him  by  the  ordinances  of  religion.  This  authority  in  the 
parent  has  been  sanctioned  by  the  unanimous  voice  of  all  the  peoples  that 
ever  existed  in  the  world.  Even  among  savage  tribes  the  rights  of 
paternity  have  ever  been  regarded  as  sacred,  and  have  never  been  in- 
fringed Avith  impunity.  Those  intimate  relations,  commonly  called  the 
ties  of  blood,  operate  more  powerfully  than  any  other  influence  on  the 
human  mind.  The  same  Providence  which  has  elevated  the  parent  to  a 
position  of  authority  has  implanted  in  the  breast  of  the  child  an  instinct 
of  submission  which  cannot  be  acted  against  without  a  strong  revulsion 
of  the  natural  moral  sense.  This  cry  of  blood  ever  rings  in  the  ears  of 
humanity ;  all  men  hear  it,  all  men  obey  it ;  he  who  uproots  it  from  his 
nature  goes  forth  the  shunned  of  men,  with  the  callousness  of  Cain  in  his 
heart,  and  the  brand  of  Cain  upon  his  brow. 

A  Pagan  sage  of  antiquity  beautifully  paints  this  picture  of  filial 
obligation  as  he  saw  it  in  the  dim  mirror  of  nature  only.  '*  There  is," 
he  says,  "  on  earth  no  image  of  the  Divinity  more  worthy  of  respect  than 
our  father  and  our  mother;  they  are  visible  deities;  we  were  born  in 
their  houses,  as  it  were,  in  their  temples,  so  that  we  should  offer  to  them 
sacrifices  of  honor,  of  love,  of  allegiance  ;  we  should  feel  in  their  presence 
as  we  would  feel  before  an  altar."  This  sentiment  of  a  Pagan  philoso- 
pher has  been  approved  by  the  Sacred  Word  of  God,  which  apportions 
the  same  degree  of  denunciation  and  punishment  to  filial  impiety  and  to 
blasphemy.  "Accursed  is  he,"  saith  the  Lord,  "who  honoreth  not  his 
father  and  his  mother."  "  He  who  shall  strike  his  father  or  his  mother, 
let  him  die  the  death." 

In  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  before  cities  were  built,  or  society 


670  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

formed,  the  father  was  the  sovereign  in  his  family ;  he  rewarded  and  pun- 
ished, and  from  his  court  there  was  no  appeal.  The  manners  of  human 
life  have  changed  since  then,  but  the  natural  authority  of  the  parent  has 
not  been  annulled.     Circumstances  only  obstruct  or  limit  its  operation. 

We  should,  then,  respect  our  parents :  we  are  bound  also  to  love 
them.  Respect  without  love  is  but  a  cold  formality ;  love  without 
respect  is  no  more  than  passion  ;  but  love  and  respect  combined  are  the 
most  exalted  tribute  which  the  human  soul  can  pay  to  a  superior  being. 
Such  is  the  tribute  we  owe  our  parents,  more  than  to  all  other  beings, 
after  God.  Why  ?  Because  they  are,  as  I  have  said,  the  authors  of  our 
existence ;  and  because  there  was  no  labor  which  they  would  not  undergo, 
no  danger  which  they  would  not  risk,  no  sacrifice  which  they  would  not 
make,  to  promote  our  true  happiness  and  welfare.  Thus  the  love  of  a 
parent,  and  particularly  of  a  mother  for  a  child,  has  passed  into  a  proverb. 
It  is  the  deepest,  the  tenderest,  the  most  delicate,  the  most  ineradicable 
feeling  of  the  human  breast.  It  is  a  love  that  absorbs  all  other  affec- 
tions— a  love  stronger  than  the  love  of  life  itself.  Woe  to  him  who  treats 
that  love  with  contumely,  who  resists  its  pleadings,  and  contemns  its 
warnings !  Woe  to  him  who  wrings  with  anguish  a  mother's  heart,  and 
unlocks  the  sacred  fountain  of  a  mother's  tears !  It  were  better  for  him 
that  he  had  never  been  born.  "  The  eye  that  mocketh  at  his  father,  and 
that  despiseth  the  labor  of  his  mother  in  bearing  him,  let  the  ravens  of 
the  brook  pick  it  out,  and  the  young  of  the  eagle  eat  it."  To  you  who 
love  your  parents,  what  name  of  earthly  names  is  dearer  or  more  sacred 
than  the  name  of  a  mother?  She  was  the  first  and  truest  friend  you  ever 
had.  She  watched  over  you  with  unceasing  care  through  all  the  dangers 
that  beset  you,  from  the  impotency  of  the  cradle  to  the  independence  of 
your  manhood.  When  others  fled  in  consternation  from  your  sick-bed, 
from  the  spectacle  of  disease,  and  the  horror  of  contagion,  she  never 
abandoned  you,  but  stood  through  weary  days  and  sleepless  vigils,  wres- 
tling with  death  as  with  a  wild  beast  that  had  come  to  ravish  from  her  the 
life  which  was  dearer  to  her  than  her  own.  When  slanderous  tongues 
sought  to  defame  you,  she  was  still  the  champion  of  your  reputation,  and 
the  uncompromising  guardian  of  your  innocence.  Whatever  of  good  was 
in  you,  her  love  magnified  a  thousand-fold,  while  your  weakness  and 
errors  melted  away  like  mists  before  her  gentle  vision.  She  wept  with 
you  in  your  sorrows ;  she  was  confounded  in  your  shame ;  she  exulted  in 
your  joys,  and  she  gloried  in  your  triumphs.  In  the  sympathies  or  con- 
gratulations of  other  friends,  you  always  feared  the  hollow  heart ;  but 
no  shadow  of  doubt  or  suspicion  ever  fell  across  the  bright  outpourings 
of  your  mother's  love.  Hardened  though  you  may  have  been  by  contact 
with  the  coarse  world,  yet  you  always  listened  with  reverence  and  awe  to 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  671 

-the  words  of  your  mother's  counsel  or  reproach.  Nought  else  human 
had  power  to  subdue  your  sternness,  or  to  melt  your  soul  to  tears.  Her 
advice  was  like  the  appealing  voice  of  God,  and  you  heard  it  with  fear, 
and  you  obeyed  it  for  love.  Her  ambition  was,  that  you  should  be  good, 
that  thus  you  might  be  happy.  In  this  hope  she  lived  and  rejoiced ;  for 
this  consummation  she  prayed  with  all  the  fervor  of  her  soul.  It  was  her 
earnest  longing,  as  she  trembled  in  hope  and  fear  on  the  threshold  of 
eternity ;  it  will  form  the  burden  of  her  intercession  to  God,  until  you 
meet  her  in  the  happy  land.  Blessed  is  he  who  loves  his  mother  thus ; 
but  woe  to  him  whom  a  mother's  tears  and  entreaties  fail  to  move ! 
There  is  for  him  no  surer  sign  of  reprobation  ;  for  what  agent  of  conver- 
sion can  forebode  success,  when  this,  the  gentlest,  and  yet  the  most  potent 
of  all,  has  essayed  the  task  in  vain  ? 

Beside  the  tribute  of  honor  which  we  owe  our  parents,  we  are  also 
bound  to  show  them  reverence:  that  is  to  say,  we  are  bound  to  acknowl- 
edge our  dependence  on  them,  and  to  obey  them.  The  authority  over 
us  with  which  God  has  invested  them  entitles  them  to  our  allegiance. 
The  human  mind  naturally  sighs  for  freedom ;  and  there  are  those  who 
would  shake  off  even  the  salutary  restraint  of  parental  sway.  But  no 
sophistry  or  sentiment  can  prove  the  justice  of  this  assumption ;  for  be 
you  as  free  as  even  your  own  imaginings  depict,  you  must  bow  down  be- 
fore some  superior  power.  As  long  as  you  are  in  the  world,  moving 
amongst  your  kind,  there  must  be  restraints  to  prevent  your  liberty  from 
degenerating  into  license,  lest,  by  your  excesses,  you  mar  the  well-being 
of  yourself  or  your  fellow-men ;  you  are  not  free  from  dependence  on 
God ;  society  claims  the  right  to  control  you ;  the  State  regards  you 
merely  as  a  part  of  a  great  machine,  set  moving  in  a  fixed  direction  for 
the  well-being  of  the  whole.  By  these  laws  your  liberty  is  checked,  and 
you  admit  the  justice  of  the  arrangement.  Why,  then,  should  you  feel 
humiliated  by  being  placed  in  subjection  to  your  parents,  whose  power 
over  you  is  natural ;  whose  love  protects  you  like  a  shield ;  and  whose 
very  punishments  are  inflicted  not  for  the  general  good,  but  for  your  own 
temporal  and  eternal  welfare  ? 

You  recognize,  then,  the  right  of  being  dependent ;  and  the  practical 
recognition  of  this  dependence  is  obedience.  The  parent  who  gave  you 
life  may  justly  prescribe  the  mode  in  which  that  life  ought  to  be  con- 
ducted, and  that  is,  according  to  the  law  of  God,  which  the  parent  is 
bound  to  administer.  If,  then,  you  wish  to  obey  God,  you  will  obey 
your  parents,  through  whose  mouth  He  speaks  to  you.  Amongst  those 
whom  St.  Paul  classifies  as  certain  to  incur  damnation,  namely,  the  covet- 
ous, the  haughty,  the  proud,  blasphemers,  and  the  like,  he  includes  those 
■who  are  disobedient  to  their  parents.     Your  parents  are  answerable  to 


672  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

God  for  your  salvation ;  this  motive  alone  should  induce  you  to  obey 
them.  But  for  a  child  to  obey  his  parents  is  not  only  a  duty,  it  is  an  ad- 
vantage, nay  a  necessity.  Can  a  child  live  of  itself  ?  Left  to  nature  alone, 
how  long  could  it  subsist  ?  Has  it  wisdom  sufficient  to  avoid  the  shoals 
and  quicksands  that  beset  its  voyage  on  the  ocean  of  life  ?  Where  is  its 
sagacity  to  encounter  dangers  and  difficulties  ?  How  poor  a  guide  is 
reason  for  youth,  when  its  action  is  thwarted  by  a  vivid  imagination,  a 
rapidity  of  impulse,  a  warmth  of  passion  !  Without  the  sage  counsel  of 
a  loving  parent,  how  soon  is  the  rash  son  or  daughter  lost  in  the  fatal 
meshes  of  sin  and  ruin  !  The  misfortune  is,  that  children  never  see  their 
error  until  poverty,  or  the  grim  spectacle  of  death,  stares  them  in  the  face, 
and  the  remedy  comes  too  late.  Witness  the  miserable  end  of  Absalom. 
Witness  the  tardy  repentance  of  the  prodigal  son.  How  many  thousands 
of  children  are  lost  forever,  because  they  would  not  bow  to  the  yoke  of 
parental  authority  !  One  becomes  a  gambler,  and  dissipates  his  fortune ; 
another  delivers  himself  up  to  debauchery,  and  cuts  short  his  life  in  the 
very  flower  of  his  age ;  another  rushes  from  crime  to  crime,  and  is  only 
checked  by  the  prison-cell,  or  perhaps  the  scaffold.  Good  God !  what  a 
fate.  But  may  it  not,  in  truth,  be  said  that  the  vast  majority  of  the  vices 
that  prevail  in  the  world,  all  the  excesses  and  disorders,  tears  and  heart- 
burnings, horrible  diseases  and  premature  deaths,  which  startle  our  ears 
and  shock  our  feelings  every  day  of  our  lives,  spring  originally  from  this 
gigantic  source  of  evil,  the  disobedience  and  insubordination  of  children 
to  their  parents  ?  The  disobedient  child  is  accursed  by  God,  and  his 
career  is  never  long  in  this  world.  The  blight  of  heaven's  malediction  is 
on  him,  and  he  perishes  and  rots  beneath  its  deadly  blast.  "  Accursed  is 
he  who  honoreth  not  his  father  and  mother,"  saith  the  Lord. 

The  last  obligation  we  owe  our  parents  is  that  of  service;  we  are 
bound  to  assist  them  in  their  necessities ;  to  provide  for  them  in  their 
illness ;  to  comfort  them  in  their  old  age,  and  to  console  them  in  all  their 
afflictions.  If  children  complied  with  this  portion  of  the  Divine  precept, 
how  much  anguish  and  misery,  poverty  and  ruin  might  be  spared  to  the 
world  !  But  sons  and  daughters,  led  away  by  the  devil  and  their  own 
passions,  turn  their  backs  upon  their  parents,  on  those  who  gave  them 
the  life  which  they  enjoy,  and  who  sustained  them  in  its  perils,  through 
many  long  and  weary  years.  The  pang  that  pierces  most  bitterly  the 
human  heart  is  the  sensation  that  it  has  been  treated  with  ingratitude, 
and  that  ingratitude  is  always  the  more  cruel  in  proportion  to  the  love 
which  it  will  not  repay.  No  tongue  can  describe  the  gall  and  wormwood 
of  anguish  that  rankle  in  the  heart  of  a  mother  who  has  been  despised  or 
neglected  by  the  child  of  her  bosom.  And  hence,  the  All-just  God  vents 
His  fiercest  wrath  on  those  who   treat  their  parents  with  ingratitude. 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  6*73 

**  He  that  afflicteth  his  father,  and  that  chaseth  away  his  mother,  is  in- 
famous and  unhappy,"  saith  the  wise  man.  "  He  that  stealeth  anything 
from  his  father,  or  from  his  mother,  and  saith  this  is  no  sin,  is  the  partner 
of  a  murderer,"  saith  the  same  inspired  writer.  Is  it  not  natural  justice 
that  so  great  a  crime  should  bring  down  the  vengeance  of  the  Great  God 
on  the  offender  ?  One  who  acts  in  this  manner  has  lost  the  title,  the 
character,  and  the  privileges  of  a  child.  "  Take  a  ray  out  of  the  sun," 
says  St.  Chrysostom,  "  and  it  shines  not ;  a  stream  from  the  fountain, 
and  it  dries  up ;  a  branch  from  the  tree,  and  it  withers  ;  a  limb  from  the 
body,  and  it  rots ;  so,  remove  a  child  from  devotion  to  his  parent,  and  he 
is  no  longer  a  child."  We  do  service  to  our  parents  when  we  solace 
them  in  their  troubles,  and,  in  the  pure  joy  which  a  faithful  child  feels 
in  this  good  work,  he  may  recognize  some  small  share  of  that  reward 
which  God  pays  to  virtue  even  here.  When  length  of  years  silvers 
over  the  head  of  your  parent,  and  chills  the  life-blood  in  his  veins,  be 
then,  above  all,  his  comfort  and  support.  "Son,"  saith  the  voice  of 
God,  "  support  the  old  age  of  thy  father,  and  grieve  him  not  in  his  life. 
And  if  his  understanding  fail,  have  patience  with  him,  and  despise  him 
not  when  thou  art  in  thy  strength,  for  the  relieving  of  the  father  shall 
not  be  forgotten.  And  in  justice  thou  shalt  be  built  up,  and  in  the  day 
of  affliction  thou  shalt  be  remembered,  and  thy  sins  shall  melt  away  as 
the  ice  in  the  fair  warm  weather."  On  your  parents'  death-bed,  you 
should  redouble  all  your  previous  care ;  and  when  they  have  passed  away 
from  this  world  of  toil,  you  should  remember  that  they  may  still  stand 
in  need  of  your  service ;  you  should  pray  with  your  whole  heart  to  God 
for  their  eternal  repose. 

From  all  I  have  said,  my  brethren,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  he  who  loves 
his  parents  thus  shall  merit  the  benedictions  of  heaven,  the  least  among 
which  is  a  long  and  happy  life  even  in  this  world.  "  Honor  thy  father 
and  thy  mother,"  saith  the  Lord,  "that  thy  days  maybe  long  in  the 
land."  The  Scriptures  are  profuse  in  their  praises  of  good  children,  and 
in  describing  the  rewards  which  they  shall  receive.  "  He  that  honoreth 
his  mother,"  saith  the  wise  man,  "is  as  one  that  layeth  up  a  treasure." 
And  cannot  our  own  experience  point  to  many  men  in  this  life  whose 
success  and  high-standing,  even  in  the  world's  esteem,  may  be  traced  to 
the  love  which  they  bore  their  parents,  and  above  all  to  their  mother? 
"  He  that  honoreth  his  father,"  say  the  Scriptures  again,  "  shall  have  joy 
in  his  own  children,  and  in  the  day  of  his  prayer  he  shall  be  heard  ";  and 
again,  "  Honor  thy  father  in  word  and  work  and  all  patience,  that  a  bless- 
ing may  come  upon  thee  from  him,  and  his  blessing  may  remain  to  the 
latter  end." 

Let,  then,  the  sacred  model  of  Christ  and  His  Mother  Mary  in  Naz- 


674 


DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 


areth  be  ever  before  the  eyes  of  children  and  of  parents  ;  Mary  portraying 
the  love,  the  grace,  the  majesty  of  motherhood,  and  Jesus  showing  forth 
the  honor,  reverence,  and  service  which  form  the  threefold  duty  of  a  child. 
In  a  household  hallowed  by  such  mutual  charity,  peace  and  its  thousand 
blessings  shall  abound :  for  Mary  will  love  that  mother  who  imitates  her 
virtues,  and  Jesus  will  guard  the  son  who  takes  Him  for  an  example.  The 
world  and  its  cares,  and  the  wickedness  of  men,  shall  invade  the  peace 
and  happiness  of  your  home  too,  and  for  few  shall  the  eighteen  years  of 
their  Nazareths  flow  in  serene,  uninterrupted  course : "  but  love,  superior 
to  every  trial,  will  never  sunder  the  true  parent  and  child.  The  filial 
piety  that  burned  like  a  sweet  aroma  in  the  tranquil  cottage  of  Joseph 
was  the  same  that  distilled  in  drops  of  balm  from  the  lips  of  the  Man  of 
Sorrows  on  the  cross,  when  He  bent  His  last  flickering  glance  on  the 
Mother  of  Sorrows  beneath,  and  faltered  forth  the  dying  words,  "  Mother, 
behold  thy  Son."  So  be  it  with  you.  Let  your  love  for  your  parents  be 
the  same  in  sorrow  as  in  joy,  in  your  Calvaries  as  in  your  Nazareths ;  be- 
cause, for  you  too  the  hour  of  affliction  shall  pass ;  and  whither  Jesus  and 
Mary  have  gone,  you  shall  follow,  to  receive  from  the  hands  of  your 
Eternal  Father  length  of  days,  not  in  this  transient  world,  but  in  that 
land  which  He  has  prepared  for  the  everlasting  joy  and  glory  of  His 
children. 


SERMON   ON    DEATH. 

'It  is  appointed  for  all  men  once  to  die,  and  after  that  the  judgment."— Heb.  ix.  27. 

I  EARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN:— As  you  may  surmise, 
from  my  use  of  these  words,  I  am  about  to  address  you  on 
a  subject  with  which  you  are  all  perfectly  familiar ;  which 
presents  itself  every  day  before  your  eyes,  in  every  shape  and 
form,  and  with  all  the  circumstances  of  which  you  are  better  acquainted 
than  with  any  other  subject  whatsoever ;  for  it  is  of  all  subjects  that  re- 
late to  man,  by  far  the  most  important,  inasmuch  as  in  it  are  wrapped  up 
all  his  interests,  both  temporal  and  eternal ;  it  is  the  pivot  on  which 
all  man's  happiness  turns,  the  point  of  the  balance,  in  one  scale  of  which 
is  man's  eternal  bliss,  and  in  the  other  man's  eternal  woe — that  subject  is 
Death  !  Perhaps  in  the  whole  history  of  the  human  mind,  nothing  is  more 
singular  than  the  apathy  with  which  man  regards  this  tremendous  subject. 
To  win  wealth,  honor,  or  po\\^er,  for  a  few  fleeting  years,  man  will  undertake 
any  trouble,  any  labor,  any  privation ;  to  escape  sickness,  poverty,  pain, 
or  hunger,  he  will  employ  all  the  energies  of  mind  and  body ;  but  to  win 
an  eternity  of  happiness,  or  to  escape  the  eternity  of  misery,  which  de- 
pends upon  death,  few  men  exercise  a  thought,  very  few  strain  a  muscle. 
Of  all  subjects,  death  is  the  most  awful ;  the  one  most  calculated  to  ex- 
cite horror  in  the  mind  ;  the  ordeal  from  which  our  nature  shrinks  with 
ineffable  terror ;  and  yet,  in  general,  how  little  one  thinks  on  it  as  one 
ought ;  we  fly  from  the  thought  of  it,  as  if  it  were  no  concern  of  ours ; 
we  shut  our  eyes,  that  the  horrid  phantom  may  not  frighten  us ;  we 
arouse  ourselves  into  a  false  courage,  and  say  that,  perhaps,  it  is  not  so 
terrible  after  all.  We  postpone  the  consideration  of  it  for  a  more  suitable 
time,  as  if  time  were  our  own !  Sometimes  we  catch  a  view  of  the  rAon- 
ster  in  all  his  grimness,  in  the  dead  of  night,  when  gloomy  thoughts  do 
most  predominate ;  perhaps  when  we  have  waked  out  of  some  horrid 
dream,  in  which  the  mind,  freed  from  control,  caught  some  glimpses  of 
the  terrible  reality,  and  then  we  tremble ;  our  conscience  is  shocked  ;  we 
see  the  hideousness  of  sin  :  but  with  that  fatal  apathy  with  which  the  sub- 
ject is  regarded,  we  strive  to  banish  the  salutary  thoughts  of  amendment, 
with  which  God  would  inspire  us,  and  long  for  the  first  rays  of  daylight, 
which  may  disperse  the  gloom,  and  restore  us  to  the  false  ease  of  thoughtless 

(675) 


676  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

indifference.  What  wonder  is  it,  when  Death  comes  at  last,  it  comes  when 
he  is  least  looked  for ;  and  that  the  soul  which  would  not  see  its  danger  is 
victimized  and  lost  forever?  Let  us,  my  brethren,  to-day  manifest  a  little 
more  interest  in  our  eternal  welfare  than  Christians  are  generally  wont  to 
do ;  let  us  open  our  eyes ;  let  us  contemplate  our  danger  in  all  its  details  ; 
let  us  see  the  precise  position  in  which  we  stand  with  regard  to  this  tre- 
mendous subject ;  that,  if  our  lives  be  such  as  to  inspire  us  with  con- 
fidence, we  may  so  persevere  to  the  end ;  and  that  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  have  been  heretofore  indifferent  and  apathetic,  we  may  be  encouraged 
so  to  live  that  we  may  not  be  afraid  to  die. 

There  are  three  points  in  the  consideration  of  Death,  which  appear 
to  me  to  embrace  the  whole  subject,  and  to  which,  therefore,  I  shall  invite 
your  most  earnest  attention,  and  these  are  :  first,  the  certainty  of  our  dying ; 
secondly,  the  uncertainty  of  the  time,  place,  manner,  and  other  circum- 
stances of  Death ;  and  thirdly,  the  consequences  which  Death  entails. 

Nothing  is  more  certain  than  Death ;  it  is  appointed  for  all  men  once 
to  die ;  nothing  can  save  us  from  this  dreadful  doom,  the  sentence  is 
general ;  it  was  pronounced  on  every  son  of  Adam ;  millions  upon  mill- 
ions of  men  have  existed  from  the  beginning  of  creation,  and  all  have 
died  and  passed  away  like  shadows.  Neither  wealth,  nor  power,  nor  wis- 
dom, has  been  able  to  save  any  man  from  this  general  sentence ;  the 
good  and  the  bad  have  died  alike  ;  no  amount  of  yirtue  has  been  able  to 
make  such  favor  with  God  as  to  avert  the  fatal  decree.  The  king  and 
the  peasant,  the  philosopher  and  the  clown,  have  all  died  indiscriminately. 
They  who  have  lived  longest  have  died  at  last.  Adam  lived  930  years, 
and  he  died ;  the  whole  sum  of  the  history  and  existence  of  the  patri- 
archs of  the  law  is  contained  in  that  pithy  sentence,  "they  lived  and 
died."  Every  descendant  of  Adam,  every  sharer  of  Adam's  sin,  must 
meet  Adam's  fate  :  "  Of  every  tree  of  paradise,"  says  God  to  him,  "  thou 
shalt  eat,  but  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  thou  shalt 
not  eat,  for  in  what  day  soever  thou  shalt  eat  thereof  thou  shalt  die  the 
death.  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  thou  shalt  eat  thy  bread  until  thou  re- 
turnest  to  the  earth  from  which  thou  wert  taken,  for  dust  thou  art,  and 
unto  dust  thou  shalt  return."  "The  wages  of  sin  is  death,"  says  St. 
Paul.  Therefore,  as  sure  as  we  are  sinners,  so  surely  shall  we  die.  Every 
day,  every  hour,  we  advance  nearer  and  nearer  to  our  end ;  to  the  day 
when  we  shall  never  see  the  night,  or  to  the  night  when  we  shall  never 
see  the  morning.  Our  best  and  dearest  friends  have  died  ;  the  brave,  the 
young,  the  beautiful,  the  good,  the  witty,  and  the  humorous,  have  all  passed 
away  before  our  eyes.  We  have  seen  the  strong  man  struck  down,  and 
the  strong  right  arm  wither.  We  have  seen  the  soul-speaking  eye  look 
glassy,  and  fixed,  and  expressionless.     We  have  seen  the  cheek  which 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  677 

was  the  seat  of  happy  smiles  and  playful  laughter  grow  stiff,  and  fall 
clammy  and  cold,  cold  as  marble,  in  death.  Where  is  the  table  from 
which  we  do  not  miss  the  loving  father,  the  tender  mother,  the  beautiful 
child,  or  the  gay  friend  that  we  loved  as  a  brother?  We  must  seek  for 
them  in  the  churchyard,  and  even  there  we  shall  not  find  them ;  others 
have  taken  their  place ;  they  glow  to-day  with  health  and  beauty ;  they 
cheer  us  to-day  by  their  lively  sallies  of  wit  and  humor:  alas!  to-morrow, 
or  if  not  to-morrow,  very,  very  soon  their  hour  too  shall  come,  and  we 
must  open  once  more  the  fountain  of  our  tears,  and  learn,  when  it  shall  be 
perhaps  too  late,  the  sad  lesson  that  we  too  must  soon,  and  perhaps  speedily, 
follow  them.  Death,  therefore,  is  most  certain  ;  nothing  can  avert  it.  Oh  ! 
would  that  we  would  look  this  truth  well  in  the  face,  and  then,  how  dif- 
ferent should  be  our  lives ! 

But  the  fact  that  we  shall  all  die  is  not  more  certain  than  that  the  cir- 
cumstances accompanying  death  are  uncertain.  Shall  we  die  in  the  morn- 
ing or  in  the  evening,  at  noonday  or  midnight :  shall  death  come  in  the 
spring-time  or  in  the  gay  bright  summer?  When  shall  we  die?  Shall  it 
be  after  ten  years'  time,  or  twenty?  Shall  it  be  next  year,  next  month, 
next  week,  to-morrow,  or  to-day  ?  Oh  !  think  of  it ;  is  any  one  of  us 
sure  that  he  shall  live  to-day,  until  the  setting  of  the  sun  ?  Believe  me 
tliere  is  at  this  moment  throughout  the  world,  many  a  man  who  rejoices 
in  his  youth,  and  strength,  and  manly  beauty,  who  little  dreams  of  dying 
or  preparing  for  death,  and  yet  who,  before  the  sun  goes  down,  shall  die ; 
he  shall  lose  his  life  by  accident,  or  by  the  visitation  of  God ;  his  body 
shall  lie  cold  and  rigid  in  the  midst  of  his  weeping  and  horrified  friends, 
while  his  soul  shall  have  passed  before  his  Maker,  and  received  that  mys- 
terious sentence  which  shall  consign  him  to  eternal  bliss  or  eternal  misery ! 
At  this  moment  the  green  grass  is  beginning  to  shoot  over  many  a  fresh 
grave,  wherein  lie  the  remains  of  the  youth  or  maiden  who  but  a  week 
ago  was  the  pride  of  a  family,  and  the  centre  of  all  their  brightest  hopes  and 
most  ardent  affections !  When  shall  we  die  ?  Shall  it  be  in  the  moment 
when  pleasure  is  sweetest,  and  life  most  endearing?  or  shall  it  be  in  the 
hour  of  melancholy  and  affliction,  when  Death  itself  cannot  add  another 
pang  to  our  broken  hearts?  No  one  knows,  but  God  alone.  How  shall 
we  die?  Shall  it  be  after  a  long  and  painful  illness,  with  full  warning 
and  full  preparation  ;  or  shall  we  be  struck  down  suddenly  without  time 
enough  to  say,  God,  have  mercy  on  us  ?  Shall  we  die  by  sickness,  or  by 
accident?  we  know  not.  Where  shall  we  die?  In  the  city  or  in  the 
country  ?  In  our  own  or  in  a  foreign  land  ?  Shall  we  die  on  the  stormy 
sea,  and  shall  our  bones  lie  in  its  fathomless  depths  forgotten  ?  Shall  our 
friends  stand  around  our  bedside  and  soothe  our  last  pangs?  or  shall  we 
die  away  from  every  face  which  might  impart  sweetness  even  to  that  bit- 


678  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

ter  hour  ?  No  one  can  tell ;  all  these  things  are  buried  in  mystery.  We 
only  know  that  we  shall  die,  but  when,  or  where,  or  how  we  shall  die  is 
known  only  to  the  Omnipotent  God.  Have  you  ever  seen  any  one  die  ? 
Oh  !  what  a  fearful  spectacle  !  There  lies  the  victim  on  his  death-bed  ; 
let  us  suppose  him  an  unrepentant  sinner,  for  the  death-bed  has  no  ter- 
rors for  the  just.  He  is  young,  and  has  brought  on  his  own  premature 
decay  by  excessive  dissipation.  His  cheeks  are  sunken,  hollow,  and  pale ; 
his  eyes  stare  wildly  and  vacantly  about ;  Death  he  fears,  he  knows  is 
coming,  and  when  he  looks  back  over  the  dark  history  of  his  short  life  he 
begins  to  feel  like  Cain,  that  his  sins  are  too  great  to  be  forgiven ;  the 
minister  of  God  stands  by  and  seeks  to  console  him ;  the  holy  man  ex- 
tols the  mercies  of  God,  and  paints  the  picture  of  Magdalen,  and  the  re- 
pentant thief;  his  friends  try  every  expedient  to  bring  his  mind  into  a 
proper  train  of  thought ;  all  is  vain,  his  pains  are  too  violent,  and  his 
mind  is  too  agonized,  to  think  of  any  time  except  the  present.  He  falls 
at  length  into  a  stupor,  it  is  the  immediate  precursor  of  Death  ;  his  breath- 
ing is  slow  and  hard ;  his  chest  heaves  at  every  respiration,  slower  and 
more  slowly,  and  then  at  length  the  last  sigh,  and  life  is  fled ;  he  lies  a 
cold,  white  lump  of  clay  before  his  friends,  while  his  soul  has  passed  before 
his  Maker,  and  received,  alas !  the  fatal  sentence  of  eternal  condemnation. 
Then  remember  the  fatal  consequences  of  Death — the  consequences 
to  soul  and  body ;  the  body  is  one  of  the  most  loathsome  objects  in  the 
world,  so  much  so  that  it  is  painful  to  look  at  it,  to  think  of  it,  to 
describe  it ;  but  it  is  better  to  be  harsh  to  our  sensibilities  for  once  than 
to  have  them  grated  on  forever  because  we  would  not  think  on  a  bitter 
truth.  So  loathsome  is  the  body  of  the  dead  man,  that  his  friends  are 
the  first  to  remove  it  with  all  haste  from  the  house,  lest  the  horrible 
stench  emanating  from  it  may  infect  the  air;  and  then,  whither  is  that 
body  removed  ?  It  is  wrapped  in  a  shroud — nailed  up  in  a  cofifin  and 
buried  deep  in  the  cold,  damp  earth.  The  worms  soon  find  their  prey; 
and  that  form,  that  once  excited  the  admiration  of  men,  and  drew  forth 
many  an  extravagant  compliment  to  its  grace  and  beauty,  seems  after  one 
week  in  the  grave  the  most  hideous,  disgusting,  abominable  spectacle 
which  it  is  possible  for  the  eyes  to  contemplate,  or  even  the  imagination 
to  conceive.  And  then  the  consequences  to  the  immortal  soul — "  It  is 
appointed  for  all  men  once  to  die,  and  after  that  the  judgment  " — there 
is  the  great  secret  that  makes  Death  so  awful — the  judgment.  The  mo- 
ment after  the  soul  has  been  separated  from  the  body  it  stands  before 
God,  and  must  render  to  Him  an  account  of  all  the  thoughts,  words,  and 
actions  of  which  it  was  the  cause  or  occasion  since  the  dawn  of  reason. 
It  is  the  thought  of  this  frightful  judgment  that  makes  Death  so  terrible 
to  the  dying  sinner.     He  turns  himself  every  way  to  seek  comfort  and 


FATHER  BUCKLEY.  679 

consolation,  and  can  find  none :  all  the  oaths,  blasphemies,  impurities, 
and  other  criminal  excesses  of  which  he  was  guilty  during  life  then  stare 
him  in  the  face,  and  fill  his  soul  with  the  horrors  of  despair.  When  look- 
ing back  into  his  past  life,  he  can  find  no  good  action  performed  purely 
for  God,  which  might  at  all  counterbalance  the  immense  load  of  guilt  in  the 
other  scale.  He  thinks  of  all  the  grace  he  has  overlooked,  the  talents  he 
has  neglected,  the  time  he  has  lost,  the  sacraments  he  has  despised — he 
lived  for  the  world,  and  the  world  now  abandons  him.  Such  a  dismal 
scene  of  woe  is  presented  to  his  mind  by  the  contemplation  of  the  terrors 
of  approaching  judgment,  that  he  might  exclaim,  with  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist :  "  The  sorrows  of  death  have  compassed  me,  and  the  perils  of 
hell  have  found  me."  He  must  leave  behind  him  all  that  his  heart  held 
dear — his  wealth,  his  lands,  his  houses,  the  smiles  of  friends  and  children 
dear  to  him  as  life,  his  fond  and  faithful  wife.  He  would  give  all  his 
possessions  for  another  year,  another  day  of  life.  No,  Death  cannot  be 
propitiated  by  entreaties,  nor  bought  by  gold.  The  moment  has  come — 
he  has  ceased  to  breathe  forever.  Oh,  if  he  had  lived  differently,  how 
different  would  be  his  end !  If  he  had  approached  the  sacraments  at 
proper  times  and  received  the  grace  of  God ;  if  he  had  devoted  as  much 
energy  and  zeal  to  the  service  of  his  Maker  as  he  did  to  the  pursuit  of 
temporal  happiness,  he  might  exclaim  in  his  dying  hour,  with  the  royal 
Prophet :  "  Though  I  should  walk  in  the  midst  of  the  shadows  of  death, 
I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  with  me." 

Now,  my  brethren,  from  all  these  considerations  it  is  clear  that  for 
us  Death  is  the  most  important  of  all  subjects,  and  that  it  is  the  only 
subject  worthy  of  engaging  all  our  interest  and  attention.  On  it  depends 
our  happiness  or  misery  for  all  eternity.  If  we  die  well,  we  shall  be 
glorified  with  God  forever — if  we  die  ill,  we  shall  be  burning,  in  hell's  fire, 
as  long  as  God  shall  be  God,  for  all  the  days  of  eternity.  That  we  must 
die  at  some  time  is  most  certain :  "  It  is  appointed  for  all  men  once  to 
die."  Therefore  we  ought  most  assuredly  prepare  for  that  last  hour,  on 
which  so  much  depends.  The  hour  of  Death  is  most  uncertain :  it  there- 
fore follows  that  we  should  not  only  prepare  for  Death,  but  that  we 
should  be  always  prepared  ;  for  we  know  not  "  the  day  nor  the  hour,  and 
the  Son  of  Man  will  come  at  the  hour  when  we  least  expect  Him." 

If  a  man  could  die  twice  he  would  certainly  die  well  the  second  time, 
for  the  horrible  memory  of  hell's  torments  would  make  him  endure  any- 
thing rather  than  run  the  risk  of  suffering  them  again.  But,  alas !  we  can 
only  die  once.  "  It  is  appointed  for  all  men  once  to  die."  What  is  there 
that  you  ever  did  once  and  did  well  ?  Did  you  ever  succeed  in  doing 
well  at  the  first  attempt?  You  now  can  walk;  but  when  you  first  tried 
the  operation  you  toppled  over  and  fell  to  the  ground  ;  you  can  now  write 


680  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

well,  but  your  first  attempts  were  wretched  failings ;  you  have  seen  men 
plough  for  many  a  day  and  scarcely  ever  deviate  from  a  straight  line,  but 
when  they  first  handled  the  plough  it  went  crooked  and  did  not  turn  up 
the  earth  properly— and  why  ?  they  had  tried  it  only  once :  so  in  like 
manner  is  there  not  great  danger  that  when  we  die  once  we  may  not  die 
well?  Oh  !  what  a  terrible  thing  to  think  of;  but  although  we  can  make 
the  trial  but  once,  we  can  succeed  by  the  grace  of  God.  There  is  nothing 
which  we  may  not  do,  when  aided  by  His  grace.  But  how  can  a  man  ex- 
pect to  die  well  who  never  thinks  of  the  subject  at  all — who  shuns  the 
thought  of  it  as  if  it  were  Death  itself?  The  arrows  of  Death  are  falling 
around  us  every  day — our  fellow-men  drop  down  beside  us,  before  us,  and 
on  every  side,  and  yet  we  fancy  that  we  shall  be  the  last  to  be  struck. 
We  follow  the  pleasures  and  vanities  of  this  world  as  the  butterfly  follows 
the  flowers  of  the  field  ;  but,  oh  !  it  is  only  when  we  are  dying  we  shall 
see  the  empty  phantom  we  were  pursuing ;  for  as  the  world  will  then  be 
past,  we  shall  then  see  in  its  true  colors  the  nothingness  of  everything  on 
which  we  set  our  hearts.  Ah  !  how  despicable  will  then  appear  to  us  the 
honors  and  distinctions  of  this  world,  where  the  worm  shall  show  no 
more  respect  to  the  king  than  to  the  beggar!  ''How  contemptible  shall 
then  appear  to  us  the  wealth  and  riches  of  this  world,  for  which  we  may 
have  toiled  and  labored,  and  probably  hastened  the  approach  of  our  last 
hour,  when  a  coffin  and  a  shroud  shall  be  our  only  possession  !  Oh !  then 
how  clearly  we  shall  see  the  wickedness  of  sin  and  the  folly  of  not  having 
lived  for  God,  for  Him  alone!  How  beautiful  virtue  shall  appear:  how 
delightful  the  ways  of  God  !  Then  we  shall  feel  the  force  of  the  words 
of  the  wise  man,  who  has  said,  "  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the 
death  of  His  saints."  When  will  you  be  prepared  to  die?  Are  you 
ready  now?  If  Jesus  Christ  stood  on  the  altar  this  moment,  and  said 
that  some  of  us  should  immediately  die,  which  of  us  would  not  tremble? 
And  justly.  And  it  is  ver>'  certain  that  before  long  some  one  of  us  here 
assembled  will  die.  Of  the  congregation  which  was  present  in  this  church 
twelve  months  ago,  have  not  some  passed  before  their  Maker,  and  re- 
ceived their  eternal  doom  ?  It  was  their  turn  yesterday,  it  may  be  ours 
to-day.  Oh !  then  be  always  prepared.  Remember  the  only  object  of 
your  living  is  that  you  should  die  well ;  we  came  into  the  world  for  no 
other  end ;  it  is  the  great  lesson  we  must  all  study.  "  Think  of  thy  last 
end  and  thou  shalt  never  sin."  When  you  rise  in  the  morning,  think  that 
you  may  not  live  till  night,  and  when  night  comes  imagine  you  may 
never  see  the  morning. 

Oh,  God  grant  us  the  grace  to  live  well,  that  so  we  may  learn  to  die  well. 
Grant  us  the  grace  to  keep  Thy  commandments  and  to  observe  Thy  law, 
that  our  souls  may  "  die  the  death  of  the  just,  our  end  be  like  to  theirs." 


REVEREND   THOMAS   MAGUIRE. 


Reverend  Thomas  Maguire  delivered  a  course  of  Lenten  Lectures  in 
the  city  of  Dublin,  Ireland,  in  answer  to  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  his  fame  achieved  therefrom  is  widespread. 
Selections  from  these  lectures  are  as  follows. 


(68i) 


PtavH  wiXI  ^clp  ^hec. 


THE   CHURCH    INFALLIBLE,   OR  NO    CHURCH." 

EARLY  BELOVED  FRIENDS:— In  this  lecture  I  pro- 
pose  to  give  some  further  proofs  of  the  establishment  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  on  earth  with  regard  to  the  Church,  which 
is  upon  earth,  but  is  not  of  earth.  The  authority  of  the  Church 
was  not  of  this  earth,  but  of  Divine,  spiritual  authority,  to  which  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  world,  who  has  understanding,  is  bound  to 
captivate  their  reason  to  the  obedience  of  faith.  It  was  right  to  take  a 
view  of  the  other  side  of  the  question,  and  I  will  allude  to  it  in  my  next 
lecture,  which  will  be  upon  the  subject  of  infallibility.  It  is  said  that  the 
promises  of  God  to  the  Church  are  only  conditional,  and  that  as  great 
and  as  bountiful  promises  were  made  to  the  Jewish  Church,  and  that  they 
were  conditional ;  therefore,  the  promises  made  to  the  Christian  Church 
were  only  conditional  also.  I  answer,  that  the  promises  given  to  the 
Jewish  Church  were  given  upon  certain  conditions,  namely,  that  they 
should  obey  the  laws  and  follow  His  Commandments ;  but  in  all  the 
promises  made  by  God  to  the  new  Church,  neither  God  Himself  nor  any 
of  the  Apostles  ever  made  mention  of  a  single  condition  upon  which  the 
promises  made  to  the  Church  were  to  be  ratified,  therefore  the  question 
is  at  once  answered,  that  the  promises  to  both  churches  were  alike.  St. 
Paul  states  that  the  new  law  is  superior  to  the  old  law ;  if,  then,  the 
promises  to  both  churches  were  alike,  then  the  new  law  could  not  be 
superior  to  the  old.  Those  who  differ  in  religion  with  me  must  admit 
that  the  new  Church  is  superior  to  the  old,  or  St.  Paul  must  be  a  liar,  and 
there  are  not  many  who  would  say  that  such  is  the  case,  for  all  Christians 
agree  that  he  was  an  inspired  writer.  Let  us  come  to  the  fact :  did  God 
in  His  promises  in  the  old  law  always  say  these  promises  shall  be  fulfilled 
if  you  do  so  and  so,  otherwise  I  shall  scatter  you  as  chaff  before  the 
winds?  All  may  recollect  the  prophecy  of  Jeremiah,  and  the  manner  in 
which  he  was  persecuted,  because  he  foretold  the  destruction  that  was 
about  to  conrie  upon  the  Jewish  people  because  of  their  evil  doings ;  he 
told  them  that  their  Church  would  be  abandoned,  and  that  God  would 
not  receive  sacrifice  from  them,  and  that  they  would  be  scattered  before 
the  four  winds  of  heaven  ;  but  that  God  would  raise  up  a  new  Church, 
and  a  clean  offering  would  be  offered  up  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  the 

(683) 


684  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

setting,  thereof.  Did  not  Moses  say  that  another  would  come  greater 
than  he  ?  There  is  a  text  quoted  from  St.  Paul,  where  he  writes  to  the 
Roman  Church,  and  bids  them  not  exult  over  the  Jews,  because  they 
were  grafted  upon  the  trunk  of  the  vine,  for,  says  he,  God  has  lopped  off 
the  branches  of  the  vine  because  they  were  not  fruitful,  and  may  not  spare 
them  either  if  they  proved  unfaithful.  He  could  not  be  expected  to  spare 
the  olive  when  He  did  not  spare  the  vine  itself.  Now,  Paul  was  then 
writing  to  the  church  at  Rome,  not  to  the  Catholic  Church  ;  the  church 
at  Rome  was  composed  of  converted  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  was  written 
to  prevent  any  jealousy  arising  amongst  them,  but  by  no  means  applied 
to  the  Church  of  Christ ;  for  if  one  church  or  fifty  were  lopped  off,  yet 
God  would  raise  up  hundreds  of  churches  to  take  their  place.  When  the 
churches  of  Ephesus,  Corinth,  and  numbers  of  others  were  destroyed, 
numberless  others  were  raised  up  in  Africa,  Asia,  and  America,  so  that 
instead  of  the  Church  being  lessened  it  was  multiplied.  If  the  church 
at  Rome  was  swallowed  up  by  an  earthquake,  the  Church  would  not  be 
lessened,  for  God  would  raise  up  other  churches  to  take  its  place.  If  the 
fall  of  any  one  branch  of  the  Church  by  its  fall  could  injure  the  whole  or 
destroy  it,  so  also  would  the  fall  of  Judas  have  destroyed  the  entire  col- 
lege of  the  Apostles,  but  it  was  not  so.  But,  taking  it  for  granted  that 
St.  Paul  did  write  to  the  church  at  Rome,  and  took  it  as  the  entire 
Church,  he  said  if  they  did  not  adhere  to  the  faith,  they  would  be  scat- 
tered and  destroyed.  Nearly  nineteen  centuries  have  gone  by  since,  and 
yet  the  Church  remains  unshaken,  as  blooming.and  fresh  as  ever  it  was; 
so  that  the  Church  that  has  kept  its  faith  unbroken  for  nineteen  centuries 
has  certainly  a  visible  sign  of  possessing  the  grace  of  God.  The  Catholic 
Church  is  this  moment  giving  instruction  and  canon  law  to  all  the 
churches  of  the  world  ;  there  is  no  church  upon  earth  so  universal, 
therefore  God  did  not  cut  it  off  as  the  threat  would  imply,  giving  the 
adversary  the  benefit  of  his  own  argument  that  such  was  the  meaning  of 
the  text. 

I  would  be  glad  to  know  what  answer  those  who  argue  against  the 
infallibility  of  the  Church  would  give  to  these  passages — "  Those  who  do 
not  hear  the  Church,  let  them  be  unto  thee  as  the  heathen  and  the  pub- 
lican,"— "  The  Church  is  the  pillar  and  the  ground  of  truth," — "  Behold, 
I  am  with  you  even  to  the  end  of  time,'* — "  They  who  hear  thee,  hear 
me:  whose  sins  ye  loose,  shall  be  loosed;  whose  sins  ye  retain,  shall  be 
retained," — "  They  who  despise  thee,  despise  me,  and  they  who  despise 
me,  despise  Him  that  sent  me."  I  cannot  see  any  conditions  here.  No; 
God  made  no  conditions  with  His  Church  ;  He  is  the  guide  and  spirit  of 
that  Church,  and,  therefore,  it  cannot  err.  The  Church  of  which  Christ 
is  the  head  cannot  teach  damnable  idolatry  and  blasphemous  superstition. 


FATHER  MAG U IRE.  685 

Again,  it  is  said,  you,  sir,  say  much  of  the  authority  of  the  Church,  of  its 
infallibility,  and  of  its  unity ;  but  you  have  not  proved  that  that  Church 
is  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  I  answer,  that  as  the  Church  of  Christ 
must  be  infallible,  and  as  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  is  the  only  Church 
that  in  all  ages,  and  at  all  times,  and  in  all  places,  ever  laid  claim  to  in- 
fallibility, it  must  therefore  be  the  Church  of  Christ.  Again,  it  may  be 
said  that  the  "  infallible  Church  "  was  meant  to  apply  to  the  elect  only ; 
for,  according  to  Holy  Writ,  "  many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen," 
which  it  is  said  applied  to  the  outward  Church.  But  St.  Paul  denies  that 
such  was  the  meaning ;  for,  as  the  elect  are  only  known  to  God,  how  could 
it  apply  to  the  Church  at  all  ?  For,  if  the  Church  be  in  error,  none  of  the 
elect  can  be  in  the  Church  at  all.  God  did  not  bid  them  preach  to  the 
elect,  but  to  all  nations  and  people,  telling  them,  "  he  that  heareth  you, 
heareth  me," — "  behold  I  am  with  you  even  to  the  end  of  time."  Could 
God  be  with  a  church  teaching  idolatry  and  error  ? 

A  more  plausible  objection  remains,  however,  which,  to  my  own  knowl- 
edge, has  been  quoted  one  thousand  times  over.  "  Upon  what  authority 
do  you  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  God  ?  *  It  would  be  blasphemy  to  say 
you  believed  it  upon  the  authority  of  the  Church  or  the  Scriptures,  for 
that  would  be  placing  these  authorities  above  God  Himself;  for  before 
you  can  believe  in  the  Scriptures  you  must  believe  in  the  existence  of 
a  GoJ.  We  must  then  believe  that  there  is  a  God  by  reason,  therefore 
God  has  given  us  no  guide  but  "  reason  with  grace  "  to  believe  in  Him- 
self, and  as  reason  is  our  guide  for  the  first  great  thing  appertaining  to 
our  salvation,  we  need  no  other  guide  for  minor  matters.'"  I  have  read 
this  from  the  very  work  read  to  this  day  in  Trinity  College,  so  that  no 
one  can  say  I  coined  it ;  and  now  for  its  exposition.  The  essence  of  it 
may  be  brought  into  one  point,  that  is,  that  as  the  existence  of  a  God  is 
discovered  by  reason,  so  we  need  no  other  guide  to  discover  anything 
else.  It  is  plausible  and  ingenious,  but  the  touchstone  of  truth  will  soon 
expose  its  fallacy.  We  know  from  external  causes,  the  sun,  moon,  stars, 
and  the  beings  that  surround  us,  that  there  must  be  sonie  primary  cause 
of  all  these,  some  being  from  whom  all  these  emanated,  and  therefore  we 
feel  there  is  such  a  being ;  but  can  reason  fathom  the  impenetrable  mys- 
tery that  surrounds  that  being  ?  Could  reason  teach  us  to  know  that  God 
was  one  being  in  three  distinct  persons,  so  perfect,  that  when  the  Son 
died  God  lived,  and  yet  the  Trinity  was  unbroken  ?  Could  reason  tell  us  ' 
that  Jesus  was  God  instead  of  man,  the  offspring  of  Mary  and  Joseph? 

"Vera  tu  es  latus  Deus." 

All  Christians  admit  the  existence  of  the  Trinity,  and  surely  they 
must  admit  that  reason  could  never  find  out  such  a  thing,  or  comprehend 


€86  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

it  even  when  found  out.  No  matter  what  God  may  tell  us,  we  are  bound 
to  believe  it — no  matter  what  He  may  direct  us  to  do,  whether  it  be  op- 
posed to  our  feelings,  our  senses,  and  our  reason,  we  are  bound  to  do  it. 
As  in  the  case  of  Abraham,  we  find  that  when  he  was  at  that  time  of 
life  when  he  could  not  be  supposed  to  have  offspring,  the  Lord  told 
him  He  would  multiply  his  seed  even  to  the  number  of  the  sands  of  the 
sea,  and  he  had  soon  after  a  son  born  to  him ;  and  when  this  his  only 
child  was  grown  up  to  manhood,  God  ordered  him  to  sacrifice  his  only 
child  upon  the  altar.  Abraham  did  not  begin  to  reason  upon  the  matter 
— he  did  not  say  to  God,  you  promised  to  multiply  my  seed,  and  if  you 
cut  off  my  son,  my  race  cannot  be  multiplied.  This  would  be  the  Prot- 
estant way  of  doing  things  by  "  reason."  He  took  his  son  as  the  Lord 
had  commanded,  and  was  about  to  sacrifice  him,  and  the  Lord  was 
pleased,  and  did  not  need  the  sacrifice.  St.  Paul  said  Abraham  was  justi- 
fied by  faith,  and  St.  James  said  he  was  justified  by  works,  by  preparing 
to  obey  the  Lord,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  all  that  was  dear  to  him  in  life. 
"  It  would  be  blasphemous  to  believe  the  existence  of  God  upon  the  au- 
thority of  the  Scriptures  or  of  the  Church."  I  take  up  the  assertion, 
and  I  say,  if  so,  it  would  be  blasphemous  to  believe  it  upon  the  authority 
of  reason ;  for  it  would  be  setting  up  reason  as  superior  to  God  also. 
The  man  who  wrote  that  work  said,  that  it  would  be  blasphemy  for 
father,  mother,  or  nurse  to  teach  a  child  that  there  was  a  God,  for  if  they 
believed  such  a  thing  upon  their  authority,  it  would  be  blasphemous — 
they  should  suffer  reason  alone  to  inform  the  child  of  such  a  being.  This 
argument  of  reason  being  the  means  of  discovering  the  existence  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  was  constantly  put  to  uneducated  persons. 

The  next  argument  was,  that  the  Jews,  by  following  the  dictates  of 
their  Church,  put  the  "  holy  one  of  Sion  "  to  death,  imbrued  their  hands 
in  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  and  rejected  Him  when  He 
came  to  be  their  deliverer  from  the  hands  of  the  evil  one ;  and  also  by 
authority  of  their  Church,  ergo  aparissima,  that  the  Catholics  are  guilty 
of  all  manner  pf  crime  by  following  the  dictates  of  the  Church  rather 
than  the  wild  dictates  of  erring  reason.  I  reply  to  this,  that  all  who 
read  Malachi,  Jeremiah,  or  Isaiah,  will  see  that  the  Messiah  was  foretold 
— that  they  would  go  into  council  against  Him — that  they  would  buffet 
Him  and  cast  Him  off — and,  finally,  that  they  would  put  Him  to  death. 
The  moment  the  Jews  had  evidence  against  the  Church,  they  were  bound 
to  attach  themselves  to  the  evidence.  They  saw  that  Christ  came  and 
performed  miracles — they  saw  that  He  suspended  nature — that  He  cured 
the  blind — restored  the  dead  to  life,  and  fed  thousands  upon  a  few 
loaves.  These  things  were  evidence  sufficient  that  He  was  the  Messiah  ; 
but  they  hardened  their  hearts  and  did  not  receive  Him.     The  moment 


FATHER  MAGUIRE:  687 

they  saw  these  evidences  against  the  Church  they  should  have  known  the 
old  law  was  fulfilled,  and  have  allied  themselves  to  the  new  Church. 
If  we  saw  such  evidence  against  our  Church,  we  would  not  remain  with 
her.  But  Luther,  or  Calvin  did  not  perform  miracles-— Calvin  employed 
a  man  to  feign  to  be  dead,  and  when  he  ordered  him  to  arise  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  the  man  was  dead  in  reality.  Thus  you  see  that  God,  in  an 
especial  manner,  prevented  His  miracles  being  made  the  object  of  im- 
position. Could  any  one  show  where  God  ever  said  to  the  old  Church, 
that  it  was  "  the  pillar  and  the  ground  of  truth  "  ?  Hence  the  absurdity 
of  saying  the  old  and  new  Church  are  alike.  Before  you  can  believe  in 
an  infallible  church,  you  must  find  it  out  by  reason.  Why  is  it  that 
when  you  find  that  church  you  resign  that  reason  which  led  you  to  find 
it  ?  This  being  another  of  the  sophistical  arguments  used,  I  will  briefly 
answer  it.  Reason  must  be  used  to  find  out  the  existence  of  a  God  ;  and 
by  the  exercise  of  reason  you  find  out  that  you  are  but  a  contingent 
being — that  some  other  being  has  given  you  birth,  and  that  such  has 
been  the  state  of  billions  of  your  kind  before  you.  You  must  then 
believe  in  a  primary  cause  of  all ;  and  when  by  the  exercise  of  reason 
you  find  out  that  primary  cause,  that  mighty  Being,  are  you  not  to 
believe  Him? — for  they  would  have  you  examine  even  what  God  Hini- 
self  tells  you  before  you  believe  it.  I  will  go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  reason 
can  find  out  the  true  Church  by  its  outward  signs,  viz.: — Unity,  Catho- 
licity, Apostolicity.  It  is  united,  because  the  same  doctrine  is  taught  in 
it.  Catholic,  because  spread  in  every  country,  all  over  the  world ;  and 
Apostolic,  because  the  succession  of  the  Apostles  has  been  regularly  kept 
up  through  its  bishops  even  to  the  present  day  ;  and  where  is  the  Church 
upon  earth,  save  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  can  boast  of  these  three 
signs  ? 

The  Protestants  may  say  our  Church  exists  in  France,  in  India,  in  Asia, 
in  America,  and  in  England,  but  it  was  not  its  universality  in  any  one  age 
that  was  to  be  its  mark,  but  its  universality  in  all  ages  from  the  coming 
of  Christ  to  the  present  day — so  that  they  could  not  point  out  a  single 
church  until  the  days  of  Luther  and  Calvin ;  theirs  could  not  have  been 
the  universal  church  throughout  all  ages.  If  a  Turk  or  a  Jew  came  to 
me  and  showed  that  their  churches  had  the  signs  of  the  true  church,  and 
that  they  could  show  that  such  was  the  case,  then  I  would  resign  myself 
to  them,  because  the  church  was  the  guide  to  salvation,  and  by  the 
church  man  must  be  brought  to  Christ.  For  example,  if  a  man  have  a 
suit  at  law  his  first  inquiry  is  who  is  the  best  pleader,  and  having  found 
him  out,  he  resigns  his  suit  into  his  hands  and  rests  satisfied  ;  thus  reason 
is  exercised  to  a  certain  point,  but  no  farther.  But  with  a  Protestant  the 
argument  would  be  quite  different,  because  he  admits  the  four  Gospels, 


688  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

and  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  St.  John,  and  St.  Peter,  and  from  these  I 
would  prove  the  existence  of  an  infallible  Church  having  both  visible  and 
invisible  signs.  But  if  an  atheist  was  to  be  argued  with,  the  first  thing 
would  be  to  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  having  proved  that,  all  the 
other  proofs  would  follow.  If  arguing  with  a  Deist,  the  first  thing  would 
be  to  prove  revelation ;  but  as  I  said  before,  with  a  Protestant  the  case 
was  quite  different,  because  there  was  a  common  ground  fixed  between 
them,  which  was  the  Scriptures.  From  the  Scriptures  I  would  prove 
that  Jesus  Christ  established  a  true  Church  upon  earth,  and  when  He 
could  remain  no  longer  with  it  in  a  visible  form,  He  said  He  would  ask 
God  the  Father  to  send  another  "  Paraclete  "  to  come  and  reside  with  it, 
to  be  its  guide  in  all  things,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Now,  by  this, 
God  is  evidently  with  the  Church,  and  therefore  the  Church  cannot  teach 
error,  but  is  infallible ;  and  as  the  Catholic  Church  is  the  only  Church 
which  from  the  beginning  claimed  the  right  of  infallibility,  so  it  must  be 
the  Church  established  by  Christ,  of  which  He  said,  "  Though  persecution 
and  oppression  shall  be  raised  against  it,  and  all  the  storms  of  man's 
power  shall  oppress  it,  yet  it  should  remain  unshaken,  and  that  the  gates 
of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it."  I  would  appeal  to  St.  Esther  and 
St.  Ruth,  and  all  the  other  saints  that  have  been  canonized  even  in  their 
own  church,  and  from  their  writings  I  would  prove  the  existence  of  an 
infallible  church.  I  would  prove  very  easily  that  the  universal  reason  of 
man  was  fallible ;  for  by  reason  no  man  could  tell  who  was  his  mother, 
all  he  knows  of  it  is  that  his  neighbors  have  told  him  that  such  was  the 
case,  and  knowing  that  they  had  no  reason  to  conspire  to  deceive  him,  he 
believes  it.  We  know  by  the  same  evidence  that  in  the  reign  of  Augustus, 
a  man  was  born  and  that  He  said  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  all  who 
saw  Him  saw  God,  and  that  He  was  crucified  by  the  Jews — but  He  went 
farther  than  statement  to  prove  His  Divinity,  for  He  suspended  nature, 
He  calmed  the  tempest  and  bid  the  waves  of  the  sea  be  hushed,  He 
walked  upon  the  water,  He  cured  the  lame  and  made  the  blind  see,  and 
He  raised  Lazarus,  who  was  in  a  state  of  putrefaction,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  yet  they  believed  Him  not ;  He  said  He  came 
to  establish  a  society  upon  earth,  and  He  told  those  who  were  about  to 
follow  Him  that  they  would  be  buffeted  and  kicked  and  spit  upon,  but 
that  they  should  not  rebuke  those  who  persecuted  them,  but  bear  all  for 
His  sake,  for  that  neither  the  persecutions  of  man  or  the  gates  of  hell 
should  prevail  against  them,  and  that  His  Church  was  the  pillar  and  the 
ground  of  truth,  that  He  would  be  with  it  at  all  times  even  to  the  end  of 
the  world.  These  promises  were  made  in  the  presence  of  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  and  many  of  them  who  heard  Him  make  these  promises  orally 
were  converted,  so  that  the  new  Church  existed  long  before  the  Scriptures 


FATHER  MAGUIRE. 


689 


were  written.  The  Jews  agreed  to  the  Church,  and  admitted  its  juris- 
diction in  spiritual  matters  before  the  Scriptures  were  written,  for  we 
find  that  they  appealed  to  the  Church  against  St.  Paul  and  Barnabas,  and 
when  the  Church  decided  against  them  they  submitted  to  the  decision ; 
thus  at  once  proving  the  right  of  the  Church  to  correct  private  judgment. 
Thousands  were  saved  by  the  Church  of  Christ  long  before  a  single  line 
of  the  Scriptures  were  written,  so  that  the  Church  existed  even  before 
the  Scriptures.  If  I  asked  a  Protestant  to  prove  the  Scriptures  he  would 
attempt  to  do  so  by  private  judgment,  and  if  I  asked  him  to  prove  the 
right  of  private  judgment  he  would  prove  it  by  the  Scriptures;  so  that 
his  law  of  private  judgment  merely  existed  upon  the  Scriptures.  Being 
admitted  as  proved,  it  might  be  a  convenient  faith,  but  it  was  such  a  one 
that  I  would  not  like  to  profess.  I  will  not  now  go  further,  but  promise 
that  I  will  not  leave  the  subject  while  one  shade  of  doubt  remains.  I 
shall  confine  myself  to  argument,  and  by  it,  with  the  blessing  of  Christ, 
gather  the  stray  sheep  into  the  true  fold,  of  whicii  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
guardian  and  the  shepherd. 


ANSWERS   TO   ALL   THE    OBJECTIONS   AGAINST 
THE  DOCTRINE  OF   PURGATORY. 

jN  this  lecture  I  promised  to  prove  that  the  two  books  of 
Maccabees  are  canonical  and  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  from  them  I  will  prove  that  prayers  for  the  dead  were 
recommended. 

Judas  Maccabees,  who  was  high-priest  and  leader  of  the  Jews,  after  a 
great  battle  against  the  enemies  of  God,  made  a  collection  among  his 
soldiers  of  two  thousand  rams,  a  year  old,  and  offered  them  as  a  sin- 
offering  for  such  of  the  soldiers  as  were  killed  in  the  battle,  that  they 
might  be  loosed  from  their  sins.  The  Protestants  have  this  book  in  their 
Bible,  but  they  call  it  apocryphal.  They  do  not  say  whether  it  is 
scriptural  or  not,  but  make  it  a  line-ball,  neither  one  side  or  the  other; 
and  lest  they  would  be  entirely  wrong,  they  bind  it  up  with  the  rest  of 
the  Bible,  and  say  that  it,  with  some  other  books  which  they  also  mark 
apocryphal,  can  be  read  "  for  example  of  life,  and  instruction  of  manners, 
but  not  to  establish  any  doctrine."  But  I  must  tell  you  that  the  Catholic 
Church  never  had  any  doubt  of  these  books,  and  have  from  the  earliest 
ages  received  them  as  canonical  and  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

St.  Cyprian,  in  his  55th  Epistle,  v/ritten  in  the  second  century  to 
Cornelius,  the  Pope,  said,  '*  that  the  books  of  Maccabees  were  holy  and 
inspired."  St.  Ambrose,  who  converted  St.  Augustine,  in  his  second 
book  upon  Jacob,  states,  "  that  the  books  of  Maccabees  are  inspired  by 
the  Holy  Ghost."  St.  Isadore,  in  his  sixth  book,  expressly  declares 
"  they  are  scriptural,  and  should  be  received  as  the  word  of  God."  St. 
Augustine,  in  his  eighteenth  book,  upon  the  cities  of  God,  states  that 
^'  these  books  were  unanimously  received  by  the  Third  Council  of 
Carthage,"  at  which  he  himself  was  present ;  and  in  his  first  book,  "  De 
cura  pro  mortibus"  he  says,  "  that  in  the  second  book  of  Maccabees  we 
read  of  sacrifices  being  offered  for  the  dead  ";  but  that,  even  if  no  proof 
of  the  Scriptures  could  be  found,  the  evidence  and  opinion  of  the  Church 
would  be  no  small  authority.  St,  Augustine  is  looked  up  to  by  the 
Protestants  themselves  as  very  high  authority  in  matters  of  faith.  I  shall, 
however,  prove  that  these  books  are  canonical  upon  the  authority  of  the 
Protestant  Church,  that  is,  from  the  highest  Protestant  authority  in  the 
world,  the  College  of  Oxford. 
(690) 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  691 

The  octavo  volume  of  the  Bible  published  long  since,  and  half  a 
century  before  they  took  their  present  "  Papistical  turn,"  as  their  Protest- 
ant friends  say,  contains  the  text  of  the  book  of  Maccabees  relative  to 
the  offering  of  Judas  Maccabees  for  the  souls  of  the  soldiers  slain  in 
battle  ;  and  in  the  marginal  note  opposite,  there  is  a  reference  to  St.  John, 
loth  chap.,  22d  v.,  in  which  you  will  find  the  following  words:  "And 
it  was  the  feast  of  the  dedication  at  Jerusalem  ;  and  it  was  winter."  23d 
v.,  "And  Jesus  walked  in  the  temple  in  Solomon's  porch."  This  is 
showing  the  origin  of  the  feast  to  celebrate  which  Christ  and  the  Apostles 
went  up  to  Jerusalem ;  so  that  we  have  here  a  proof  that  the  feast  estab- 
lished by  Judas  Maccabees  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  Christ,  as 
J:he  day  upon  which  offering  was  made  for  the  souls  of  the  soldiers,  was 
the  feast  of  the  dedication.  The  holiday  was  made  by  Judas  Maccabees, 
who  said  it  was  a  holy  and  a  pious  thing  to  pray  for  the  dead.  The  Jews 
had  no  authority  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  for  keeping  that  feast 
but  the  book  of  Maccabees.  If,  then,  it  was  not  an  inspired  book,  and 
received  by  the  church  of  the  old  law,  would  the  Jews  have  observed  it  ? 
No ;  they  would  not,  for  they  were  very  exact  in  acting  according  to  the 
rules  laid  down  in  the  latv  of  God.  But,  some  say  that  Christ  accused 
them  of  being  "too  apt  to  observe  the  traditions  of  men,  and  too  neglect- 
ful of  the  weighty  things  of  the  law." 

You  know  how  they  accused  Christ  of  healing  the  sick  upon  the  Sab- 
bath day,  and  how  they  also  accused  the  disciples  of  pulling  a  few  ears  of 
corn  on  the  Sabbath  day.  So  that  they  would  not  have  observed  it  as  a 
great  feast,  if  it  was  not  handed  down  to  them  upon  unquestionable 
authority.  The  Holy  Ghost  has  declared  that  it  would  be  accursed  to 
hold  any  feast  unless  by  the  authority  of  the  Lord ;  and  if  this  feast  was 
not  canonical,  a[nd  according  to  the  will  of  God,  would  Jesus  and  the 
Apostles  have  gone  up  to  celebrate  it  .'*  The  Protestants  may  ask,  how 
will  you  prove  that  this  was  the,  feast  Christ  went  up  to  ?  I  answer,  there 
never  was  any  other  feast  of  the  dedication ;  besides,  if  I  had  not  one 
single  proof  but  the  one  from  the  Oxford  Bible,  that  is  a  sufficient  proof 
that  it  was  the  same  feast.  It  was  that  passage,  in  support  of  prayers 
for  the  dead,  that  made  Luther  oppose  these  books ;  but  the  Protestants 
have  too  much  respect  for  the  Word  of  God  to  throw  any  of  it  away,  and, 
therefore,  they  bind  it  up  with  the  rest  of  the  Scriptures. 

I  verily  believe  that  the  greatest  fault  Protestants  have,  is  their  own 
zeal  for  the  sacred  writings.  According  to  St.  Peter,  many  of  them  have 
wrested  the  Scriptures  to  their  own  destruction  and  confusion  ;  for  from 
this  spring  the  innumerable  sects  of  the  present  day — and  no  two  of 
them  agreed  upon  any  one  point  of  doctrine. 

I  think  Protestants  cannot  get  out  of  this  easily ;  for  here  is  their  own 


692  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

Bible  fully  proving  that  prayers  for  the  dead  are  holy  and  wholesome, 
while  their  doctrine  teaches  that  they  are  useless — nay,  sinful ;  but,  then, 
they  may  say,  our  Bible  is  fallible  as  well  as  our  Church,  and  thus  is  the 
error.  They  admit  the  Church  was  not  defiled  in  the  early  ages,  and  that 
it  was  pure  and  chaste.  You  see  that,  by  the  authority  of  the  earliest 
Church,  we  have  the  recommendation  to  pray  for  the  dead,  and,  also,  that 
the  book  of  Maccabees  was  canonical  and  inspired — and  having  admitted 
this,  they  must  admit  also  that  prayers  for  the  dead,  as  recommended  in 
that  book,  is  a  pious  and  a  holy  thought. 

I  could  bring  forth  twenty  texts  more,  to  prove  that  these  books  are 
canonical,  and  that,  therefore,  the  existence  of  a  third  place  must  be 
evident ;  but,  having  proved,  that  from  three  great  principles  it  must  be» 
admitted — or  the  existence  of  these  principles  themselves  denied — I  shall, 
therefore,  content  myself  by  giving  one  or  two  texts  more,  and  then  leave 
the  matter  to  the  minds  of  those  who  wish  further  to  consider  it. 

Our  blessed  Lord  said,  "  A  sin  against  the  Father  will  be  forgiven, 
and  a  sin  against  the  Son  will  be  forgiven,  but  a  sin  against  the  Holy 
Ghost  will  not  be  forgiven  either  in  this  or  the  other  world."  A  sin 
against  the  Holy  Ghost  will  not  be  forgiven  efther  in  this  or  the  other 
world  shows  clearly  that  some  sins  are  forgiven  in  this  world,  and  that  some 
are  referred  to  be  forgiven  in  the  next  world.  St.  Augustine  says  that 
this  passage  clearly  means  that  some  sins  were  forgiven  in  the  other  world. 
When  Christ  said  this,  could  not  the  Jews  have  said  to  Him,  that  there 
were  no  sins  forgiven  in  the  other  world,  and  thus  confound  His  words  ? 
But  they  did  not ;  and  by  that  means  they  prove  that  they  believed  in  the 
forgiveness  of  sins  after  death. 

Why  are  sins  against  the  Father  and  Son  to  be  forgiven,  and  not  sins 
against  the  Holy  Ghost?  The  question  is  solved  thus:  Creation  is 
attributed  to  the  Father,  by  appropriation,  through  Christ ;  salvation  is 
attributed  to  Christ,  through  the  Father ;  and  sanctification  is  attributed 
to  the  Holy  Ghost,  through  the  Father  and  the  Son.  So  that  the  means 
of  forgiveness  is  through  the  Holy  Ghost,  and,  therefore,  he  that  sins 
against  the  Holy  Ghost  cuts  off  the  only  channel  by  which  forgiveness  is 
at  all  to  be  obtained.  If  there  never  was  a  sin  forgiven  in  the  world  to 
come,  why  would  Christ  say,  "  either  in  this  or  the  other  world  "  ?  It  was 
quite  clear  He  alluded  to  a  state  in  the  other  world  where  sins  were  for- 
given. 

When  it  is  said,  "  God  will  reward  every  man  according  to  his  works," 
faith  is  presupposed — for  without  faith  works  are  dead,  and  without 
works  faith  is  of  no  avail.  Suppose  Antichrist,  Caligula,  Nero,  Antiochus, 
or  any  other  of  those  brutes  in  human  form,  who  have  disgraced  human- 
ity, is  to  be  placed  in  the  same  place  of  punishment  with  an  innocent 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  693 

child  who  was  not  baptized,  or  one  who  had  merely  told  a  jocose  lie — 
would  it  be  at  all  consistent  with  our  views  of  God's  infinite  mercy  ?  And 
yet,  such  is  the  Protestant  doctrine,  which  says,  that  there  is  no  place 
where  sin  is  purged  off,  or  souls  cleansed  from  venial  sin,  for  nothing 
defiled  can  enter  heaven.  If  such  were  the  case,  God  would  be  unjust, 
and,  instead  of  being  kind  and  merciful,  He  would  be  wicked  and  tyran- 
nical ;  therefore,  we  hold,  that  God  has  established  a  third  place  for  the 
sanctification  of  souls,  and  that  place  is  purgatory. 

The  first  objection  against  this  doctrine  is,  that  there  is  no  mention 
made  of  purgatory  in  all  the  Scriptures.  But  that  cannot  be  said  at  all 
to  affect  it,  inasmuch  that  the  same  argument  would  apply  to  the 
*' Mother  of  God,"  which  words  were  not  to*be  found  in  the  Scriptures 
either — or  the  word  "  Trinity,"  or  '*  consubstantial," — and  yet,  because  the 
full  substance  of  all  these  things  were  to  be  found  in  the  Scriptures,  no 
one  doubted  them.  Therefore,  I  say,  that  the  argument  does  not  apply 
— because  the  essential  proof  is  to  be  found  in  the  Scriptures  that  such  a 
place  must  exist,  or  that  the  greatest  principles  laid  down  in  Holy  Writ 
must  be  wrong. 

"■  The  blood  of  God  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  This  is  one  of  the  favor- 
ite texts  of  Protestants.  But  the  text  proves  too  much — for,  if  the  blood 
of  God  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  there  would  be  no  need  of  hell  or  purga- 
tory either ;  so  that  the  text  itself  causes  inquiry  to  be  made  into  it. 
And  then,  we  find,  that,  in  order  to  make  the  blood  of  God  applicable  to 
us,  we  must  walk  in  the  light  of  grace — for,  if  we  were  to  take  the  word 
as  it  is  written,  then  we  should  say  that  Christianity  is  useless,  inasmuch 
as  that  Christ  did  not  care  to  die  for  the  faithful — but  for  all  mankind — 
and,  therefore,  if  nothing  else  was  necessary  but  the  blood  of  Christ,  the 
Turk,  the  Jew,  and  atheist  would  be  as  much  heirs  of  heaven  as  the 
Christian. 

If  God  did  not  make  certain  conditions  upon  which  His  grace  was  to 
be  obtained  and  retained.  He  would  have  given  a  premium  for  sinning  in- 
stead of  preventing  it.  "  He  that  believes  will  be  saved,  but  he  that  does 
not  believe  shall  not'have  everlasting  life."  In  order  to  gain  everlasting 
life,  it  is  necessary  to  have  faith,  hope,  and  charity ;  and,  also,  to  observe 
the  commandments  of  God.  By  the  Scriptures  we  know  that  the  way  of 
life  is  opened  for  us,  and  that  through  Christ  we  are  reconciled  to  our 
heavenly  Father  again.  We  know  that  Christ  did  all  this  for  us  for 
nothing;  but  His  laws  show  us  that  if  we  are  to  have  the  benefit  of  His 
passion  and  death,  we  can  only  have  it  upon  the  fulfilment  of  certain 
conditions,  which  are :  to  have  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  and  observe  His 
commandments. 

Again,  it  was  quoted  against  the  doctrine  of  purgatory,  that  the  Lord 


694  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

said,  "  I  will  not  remember  your  sins  in  that  hour  when  you  return  from 
your  wickedness."  I  say  that  the  meaning  of  this  text  was,  that  He 
would  not  remember  their  sins  so  as  to  punish  them  eternally,  but  the 
temporal  punishment  was  not  alluded  to.  I  ask,  did  not  God  forgive  the 
sin  of  Adam  ? — and  yet  we  find  that  the  temporal  punishment  for  Adam's 
offense  is  visited  upon  us  to  this  hour — for  we  all  feel  the  effects  of 
that  sin,  by  sickness,  cold,  hunger,  thirst,  and  death — for  man  was  born 
immortal,  that  he  should  live  forever ;  but,  through  the  fall  of  Adam,  he 
is  now  destined  to  pass  to  immortahty  through  the  valley  of  death.  If 
any  further  proof  were  wanted  that  God  never  remitted  the  temporal 
punishment  at  the  same  time  with  the  eternal  punishment,  you  have  only 
to  look  to  the  days  of  the  Israelites  passing  through  the  wilderness,  and 
see  how  He  destined  them  to  wander  for  forty  years  through  it,  because 
they  had  worshipped  the  golden  calf — and  see  that,  though  He  forgave 
them  the  immortal  punishment,  yet  He  would  not  forgive  the  mortal  or 
temporal  punishment. 

Ecclesiastes — "  Where  the  tree  falls,  there  it  shall  lie."  This  text  was 
in  the  mouth  of  every  babbling,  canting  creature  that  wishes  to  oppose 
Catholicity.  But  I  shall  give  you  the  text  as  it  really  is,  with  the  proper 
interpretation.  "  If  the  tree  fall  to  the  North,  or  to  the  South,  or  to  any 
other  place,  there  it  shall  lie."  Now,  from  this,  it  is  evident  there  is 
somewhere  else  for  the  tree  to  fall  besides  the  North,  which  means  hell, 
or  the  South,  which  means  heaven.  If  there  was  no  place  but  hell  or 
heaven  for  it  to  falf  into,  the  Holy  Ghost  would  not  have  written,  "  or 
any  other  place." 

The  real  meaning  of  the  text  is,  that  as  long  as  we  are  in  this  life, 
that  is  the  time  to  bear  good  fruit — for  when  we  are  cut  down,  so  far  as 
our  own  works  go,  there  we  must  remain  ;  for  the  moment  we  leave  this 
life,  we  are  incapable  of  doing  anything  to  please  God,  our  day  of  proba- 
tion being  passed.  The  Protestant  interpretation  was  superlatively 
ridiculous.  David,  Moses,  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  all  the  just,  up  to  the 
time  of  Christ,  were  all  cut  down ;  and  I  ask,  where  were  they  until 
Christ  opened  the  way  for  them  into  the  kingdom  oT  heaven  ?  Were  they 
in  the  hell  of  the  damned  ?  O  !  no.  The  Protestants  themselves  would 
not  say  they  were  there.  St.  Peter  said  that  no  one  ever  entered  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  until  Christ  came,  and  by  His  death  opened  the  road 
to  heaven.  "  Jesus  led  captivity  captive  " — showing  that  He  descended 
into  the  hell  of  the  holy  patriarchs,  and  led  from  it  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
all  the  faithful,  who  had  died  believing  in  the  Lord  on  His  promise  of  a 
Messiah.  They  fell  like  the  tree,  and  could  not  raise  themselves ;  but 
Christ,  by  His  passion  and  cross,  raised  them  to  a  state  of  life.  •  Just  so, 
those  who  fall  in  this  day,  they  cannot  raise  themselves,  but  they  are 


FATHER  MAGUIRE. 


695 


risen  by  the  prayers  of  the  just,  and  by  the  good  works  of  the  faithful. 
The  prayers  of  the  Church — which  is  in  this  world,  but  is  not  of  this 
world — can  raise  up  the  fallen  tree  which  has  fell  in  the  faith,  and  thus 
lead  it  to  eternal  life.  As  Christ  raised  the  souls  of  the  faithful  from  the 
place  where  they  were  detained,  so  He  also  left  the  same  power  to  His 
Apostles,  when  He  said,  "  As  the  Father  has  sent  me,  so  I  send  you." 
"  Lo  !  I  shall  be  with  you  to  all  ages  " — clearly  pointing  out  that  they 
were  to  live  forever  by  succession,  which  proves  the  necessity  of  apostolic 
succession. 


THE   INVOCATION   OF   SAINTS. 

Y  DEAR  FRIENDS  :— The  subject  of  this  lecture  is  one  of 
considerable  importance.  We  are  accused  by  our  separated 
brethren  of  invoking  saints  and  angels,  and  we  are  in  a  very- 
peremptory  manner  assured. that  this  practice  is  idolatrous 
and  superstitious,  I  undertake,  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  to  prove  that 
the  practice  of  invoking  the  blessed  in  heaven  is  recommended  both  in 
the  old  and  new  law,  and  also  that  it  is  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of 
God  Himself. 

First,  I  shall  prove  that  the  blessed  in  heaven  do  know  what  is  pass- 
ing here,  and  can  hear  the  prayers  offered  up  to  them,  and  that  they  do 
sympathize  with  us  in  all  our  wants  and  wishes.  I  shall  also  prove  that 
the  angels  in  heaven  are  constantly  in  the  habit  of  imploring  God  for  us, 
that  He  may  strengthen  us  to  bear  up  against  temptation,  and  that  the 
Church  triumphant  in  heaven  holds  continual  communion  with  the 
Church  militant  upon  earth ;  and  I  shall  also  prove  that  God  hears  their 
prayers  for  us,  and  receives  our  prayers  through  them,  which  He  would 
not  do  for  us,  because  of  our  manifold  sins. 

Could  I  adduce  no  text  from  either  the  old  or  new  law — yet,  I  think, 
the  practice  of  the  Church,  from  the  earliest  ages  up  to  the  nineteenth 
century,  would  be  no  small  authority.  But  I  shall  quote  texts  from  both 
the  old  and  new  law  in  support  of  this  doctrine,  until  I  leave  those  who 
make  a  scoff  of  it  ashamed  of  themselves.  I  shall  first  refer  to  the  old 
law,  to  prove  that  prayers  to  the  angels  were  then  recommended  and 
practiced.  I  cannot  prove  prayers  to  the  saints  from  the  old  law,  because 
there  were  no  saints  then  in  heaven.  "  The  way  of  the  Holy  of  Holies 
was  not  then  made  clear,  Christ  not  having  yet  led  captivity  captive." 

If  it  be  right  to  invoke  the  prayers  of  living  men,  how  much  more 
likely  of  success  would  there  be,  by  invoking  the  prayers  of  the  saints  in 
heaven,  upon  whom  the  light  of  the  beatific  vision  was  eternally  shining, 
and  whose  love  for  us  is  unceasing  ?  I  will  prove  that  the  prayers  which 
we  give  the  angels  and  saints  do  not  in  any  way  interfere  with  the  honor 
due  to  God. 

I  shall  refer  you  to  Tobias,  I2th  chap.,  15th  v.  But,  before  I  read  it, 
I  must  tell  you  that  the  Protestant  Church  calls  this  book  one  of  the 
(696) 


FATHER  MAG U IRE.  097 

Apocrypha — that  is,  doubtful.  St.  Augustine  says  that  the  Catholic 
Church  always  received  it  as  canonical,  and  that  it  was  insolent  madness 
to  doubt  the  authority  of  the  Catholic  Church.  But,  even  supposing 
that  it  was  apocryphal,  the  very  fact  that  such  was  the  belief  of  the 
Church  at  that  early  period,  when  the  Protestants  themselves  say  the 
Church  was  undefiled,  is  a  strong  proof  in  favor  of  the  argument,  and 
clearly  demonstrates  that  we  have  not  been  innovating  by  practicing  the 
invocation  of  saints — it  being  practiced  and  approved  of  by  the  Church  four 
thousand  years  ago.  The  text  is — "  Raphael  is  one  of  the  seven  spirits 
that  stand  before  God,  and  when  Tobias  offered  up  his  prayers  for  the 
people,  and  when  he  buried  the  dead  by  night,  I  said  Raphael  offered 
them  to  God."  Here  you  see  that  the  prayers  of  the  just  are  offered  to 
God  by  the  hands  of  His  angels.  You  may  remember  what  Eliphaz  said 
to  Job,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  troubles  and  privations — (5th  chap.,  ist  v.): 
*'■  Call  now,  if  there  be  any  that  will  answer  thee ;  and  to  which  of  the 
saints  wilt  thou  turn?"  The  seventy  interpreters  put  in  the  word 
"  saints,"  because  they  knew  that  at  the  time  there  were  none  of  the 
saints  in  heaven,  and  his  observations  must  have  been  "  angels."  But  it 
proves  that  angels  could  assist  us  in  our  necessities.  You  will  find  that, 
after  God  restored  all  his  property  to  Job,  and  gave  him  happiness  and 
comfort,  God  menaced  his  true  friends,  and  declared  that  unless  they 
went  and  ofTered  up  sacrifice,  and  got  His  servant  Job  to  intercede  for 
them,  He  would  not  forgive  them — thus  at  once  establishing  the  doctrine 
of  intercession ;  for  when  they  did  go,  and  that  Job  offered  sacrifice,  the 
Lord  accepted  it  and  forgave  them. 

I  may  be  told  that  Job  was  then  a  living  man.  But  if  God  would 
listen  to  Job,  who  was  but  a  sinner,  how  much  sooner  would  He  hear  the 
prayers  of  the  just,  who  are  honored  by  being  taken  into  heaven. 

St.  Paul  besought  the  prayers  of  the  Hebrews  and  the  Colossians  for 
himself.  Now,  if  the  prayers  of  those  people  for  St.  Paul  could  take 
from  his  prayers  to  Christ,  would  he  have  asked  them  to  pray  for  him  ? 
Surely  he  would  not,  and,  therefore,  wc  have  another  proof  of  the  doctrine 
of  intercession.  St.  Paul  tells  us,  that  when  faith  and  hope  are  dead, 
charity  still  lives,  showing  that  the  same  feelings  of  charity  and  love 
which  we  have  in  this  life,  still  exist,  and  that  we  are  still  as  anxious 
and  solicitous  for  those  we  have  left  behind,  as  we  were  while  we 
were  with  them.  So  that,  even  though  enjoying  the  beatific  vision,  we 
never  fail  to  pour  forth  our  orisons  to  God  for  those  whom  we  have  loved 
in  this  life. 

David,  in  his  138th  Psalm,  says,  "I  will  praise  Thee  with  my  whole 
heart;  before  the  gods  will  I  sing  praises  unto  Thee."  Here  David  calls 
the  angels  gods — "  I  will  sing  praises  before  the  gods."     If  the  angels 


698  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

could  not  hear,  surely  he  would  not  sing  praises  before  them,  for  no  man 
would  sing  before  deaf  people. 

Again,  you  remember  the  description  that  Christ  gave  of  Dives,  who 
was  buried  in  hell,  and  how  he  looked  up  and  saw  Lazarus,  who  was  in 
Abraham's  bosom ;  and  he  asked  that  he  might  be  suffered  to  come  and 
dip  his  finger  in  water,  and  put  one  small  drop  in  his  mouth,  for  that  he 
was  burning  with  heat ;  but  he  was  refused.  And,  again  he  asked,  would 
Lazarus  be  sent  back  to  the  world,  to  tell  his  three  brothers  of  his  awful 
state,  and  to  warn  them  from  following  his  footsteps ;  but  this  he  was 
also  refused — because  they  had  Moses  and  the  prophets,  and  if  they 
would  not  believe  them,  they  would  not  believe  a  man  risen  from  the 
grave.  How  did  Abraham  know  that  they  had  Moses — for  he  was  dead 
long  before  Moses  was  born — if  those  in  heaven  did  not  know  what 
passed  upon  earth  ?  So  that,  by  this,  we  have  a  double  proof — the  one, 
that  Abraham  knew  what  was  doing  upon  earth ;  and  the  other,  that 
Dives  remembered  his  brothers,  and  was  concerned  that  they  might  not 
fall  into  torture  like  himself. 

Again,  in  the  Apocalypse  of  John,  2d  chap.,  26th  v.,  "And  he  that 
shall  overcome,  and  keep  my  works  unto  the  end,  to  him  I  will  give 
power  over  the  nations."  (27th  v.),  "  And  he  shall  rule  them  with  a  rod 
of  iron ;  and  as  the  vessel  of  a  potter  they  shall  be  broken."  Now,  this 
proves  that  the  saints,  after  death,  live  with  God,  and  have  power  given 
them  over  countries  and  nations.  How,  then,  could  they  exercise  this 
power,  if  they  did  not  know  what  was  passing  on  earth  ? 

Genesis,  48th  chap.,  15th  v.,  "And  he  blessed  Joseph,  and  said,  God,, 
before  whom  my  fathers  Abraham  and  Isaac  did  walk,  the  God  which  fed 
me  all  my  life  long  unto  this  day."  i6th  v.,  "  The  angel  which  redeemed 
me  from  all  evil,  bless  the  lads." — He  prayed  first  to  God,  and  then  he 
calls  upon  the  angel  to  watch  over  them  :  here  then  is  a  prayer  directly 
to  an  angel.  Zachariah,  ist  chap.,  12th  v.,  "Then  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
answered  and  said,  O  Lord  of  hosts  !  how  long  wilt  Thou  not  have  mercy 
on  Jerusalem  and  on  the  cities  of  Judah,  against  which  Thou  hast  had 
indignation  these  threescore  and  ten  years?"  Here  the  angel  is  repre- 
sented interceding  with  the  great  God  for  these  devoted  cities.  Daniel, 
lOth  chap.,  2ist  v.,  "But  I  will  show  thee  that  which  is  noted  in  the 
Scripture  of  Truth,  and  there  is  none  that  holdeth  with  me  in  these 
things  but  Michael,  your  prince."  Here  Michael  the  archangel  is  repre- 
sented standing  up  before  God,  invoking  His  favor  for  the  children  of  the 
people.  I  Kings,  15th  chap.,  4th  v.,  "  Nevertheless,  for  David's  sake  did 
the  Lord  his  God  give  him  a  lamp  in  Jerusalem,  to  set  up  his  son  after 
him  and  to  establish  Jerusalem."  Here  we  see  that  through  love  of 
David,  his  son,  though   a  wicked   one,  was  suffered   to  succeed  him. 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  699" 

Isaiah,  37th  chap.,  4th  v.,  "  It  may  be  the  Lord  thy  God  will  hear  the 
words  of  Rabshakeh,  whom  the  king  of  Assyria,  his  master,  hath  sent  to 
reproach  the  living  God,  and  will  reprove  the  words  which  the  Lord  thy 
God  hath  heard ;  wherefore,  lift  up  thy  prayer  for  the  remnant  that  is 
left."  Jeremiah,  15th  chap.,  ist  v.,  "Then  saith  the  Lord,  though  Moses 
and  Samuel  stood  before  me,  yet  my  mind  could  not  be  toward  this  peo- 
ple." Now  Moses  and  Samuel  were  long  since  dead,  and  if  Moses  or 
Samuel  did  not  intercede  for  the  people,  what  manner  of  speech  would 
this  be  for  the  living  God  ?  Here  then  are  proofs  in  favor  of  the  doctrine 
of  invocation  of  saints,  which  has  been  for  ages  attacked  by  Protestants 
with  all  the  blasphemous  fury  of  a  Voltaire,  to  the  delight  of  the  atheist, 
the  deist,  and  the  socialist,  against  the  doctrine  of  Christianity  itself^ 
Ezekiel,  14th  chap.,  20th  v.,  "  Though  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job  were  in  it ; 
as  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  they  shall  deliver  neither  son  nor  daughter; 
they  shall  but  deliver  their  own  souls  by  their  righteousness."  Now  Noah 
and  Job  were  both  dead,  and  yet  He  put  them  with  Daniel,  who  was  liv- 
ing; and  if  it  was  not  lawful  to  call  for  the  intercession  of  the  dead, 
would  God  have  said  this  ?  Joseph  lived  several  years  after  Elias  was 
translated  from  this  world,  and  after  Joseph,  his  son  Joram  succeeded  to 
the  kingdom  :  and  failing  to  walk  rightly  in  the  law,  Elias  wrote  him  a 
letter,  although  he  was  dead  many  years  before  his  father,  and  in  the  let- 
ter he  tells  him  that  God  would  strike  him  and  his  people  with  a  plague, 
because  he  had  forsaken  him  and  followed  other  gods.  Now  when  Elias 
could  write  this  letter  from  a  place  which  was  not  heaven,  nor  could  it  be 
the  hell  of  the  damned,  and  yet  it  was  not  this  world  ;  it  was  clear  that 
in  all  places  out  of  this  world  the  recollection  of  this  life  remains. 

The  Rev.  gentleman  also  quoted  passages  from  the  Second  Homily 
or  Numbers,  and  also  from  the  writings  of  the  holy  fathers,  in  support 
of. his  argument,  and  then  proceeded: — Apocalypse,  5th  chap.,  8th  v., 
"And  when  he  had  opened  the  book,  the  four  living  creatures,  and  the 
elders  fell  down  before  the  lamb,  having  every  one  of  them  harps,  and 
vials  full  of  odors,  which  are  the  prayers  of  the  saints."  Here  we  see 
that  the  saints  in  heaven  offer  up  the  prayers  of  the  faithful  on  earth, 
8th  chap.,  3d  v.,  "  Another  angel  came,  and  stood  before  the  altar,  hav- 
ing a  golden  censer,  and  there  was  given  to  him  much  incense,  that  he 
should  offer  of  the  prayers  of  all  saints  upon  the  golden  altar  which  is 
before  the  throne  of  God."  Here  again  we  have  proof  of  the  prayers 
being  offered  by  the  angels  to  God,  in  order  that  they  might  be  made 
the  more  acceptable,  i  Tim.,  4th  chap.,  16th  v.,  "Attend  to  thyself  and 
to  doctrine,  be  earnest  in  them,  for  in  doing  this  thou  shalt  both  save 
thyself  and  them  that  hear  thee."  If  then  poor  sinful  man  by  his  preach- 
ing, by  his  ministry,  and  by  his  example,  could  help  to  save  others,  how 


700 


DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 


much  more  power  must  those  saints  in  heaven  have  who  are  endowed 
with  immortality  ?  What  absurdity !  what  inconsistericy  of  Protestants 
to  be  harping  at  us  for  invoking  saints,  while  they  themselves  have  their 
holidays,  and  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  "  guardian  angels."  With  what 
degree  of  consistency  can  they  charge  us  with  what  they  commit  them- 
selves? I  warn  them  in  the  face  of  high  heaven  not  to  bear  false  witness 
against  their  neighbors.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  for  Protestants  to  charge 
us  with  idolatry,  because  we  honor  those  whom  God  honors  Himself. 

Origen,  in  the  third  book  on  the  Canticle  of  Canticles,  states,  "  that 
there  is  more  joy  in  heaven  at  the  conversion  of  one  sinner,  than  for 
ninety-nine  just."  If  the  angels  did  not  know  what  was  passing  on  this 
earth,  how  could  they  rejoice  at  the  conversion  of  sinners?  He  then  pro- 
ceeds— "  I  will  fall  down  upon  my  knees,  and  not  presuming  to  offer  my 
own  prayers,  I  shall  invoke  all  the  saints  and  angels  to  intercede  for  me 
with  sighs  and  tears  that  my  prayers  may  be  acceptable  to  the  living 
God." 

St.  Cyprian,  who  flourished  early  in  the  third  century,  or  late  in  the 
second,  says,  "  Let  us  be  mindful  of  each  other  in  this  life  and  in  the 
next  " — showing  that  charity  did  not  die  in  the  other  world.  In  his  57th 
Epistle  to  the  martyrs,  he  says,  "  Boldly  go  forth,  advance  in  spirit,  die 
happily;  but  then,  remember  us."  Again,  we  find  the  Angel  Gabriel 
saluted  the  Virgin  Mary  with — "  Hail !  Mary,  full  of  grace  " — and  the 
holy  fathers  from  the  earliest  ages  have  said,  "  Mother  of  God,  intercede 
for  us."  Catholics  and  Christians  need  not  be  ashamed  to  do  that  which 
these  great  martyrs  and  saints  did ;  and  if  they  share  the  same  reward — a 
glorious  eternity — it  will  be  the  blessing  I  wish  you  all. 


ANSWERS  TO   ALL  THE   OBJECTIONS    AGAINST 
THE  DOCTRINE  OF  TRANSUBSTANTIATION. 

Y  DEARLY  BELOVED  BRETHREN  :— In  a'nother lecture 
I  went  at  some  length  into  the  real  doctrine  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church  upon  the  blessed 
Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist ;  and  I  stand  pledged  now  to  give 
the  remainder  of  the  proofs  in  favor  of  that  doctrine,  and  also  to  answer 
some  of  the  leading  arguments  urged  against  it. 

It  has  been  said  by  a  Protestant  clergyman  to  myself,  that  no  matter 
how  strong,  how  cogent,  how  convincing  the  arguments  which  I  might 
bring  in  support  of  this  doctrine,  yet  that  the  adversaries  of  our  religion 
would  still  say,  that  the  expressions  used  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  St.  John 
are  clearly  meant  to  be  read  2iS,  figuratively,  not  really :  "  I  am  the  living 
bread  that  came  down  from  heaven  ;  he  that  eats  of  this  bread  shall  live 
forever."  It  would  be  said,  you  must  eat  the  flesh  of  Christ  spiritually, 
not  really  ;  so  that  my  arguments  are  misapplied  in  *any  other  sense. 
Now,  I  answer  this  learned  clergyman,  this  honest  man — for  I  believe 
there  are  many  who  really  seek  information  upon  this  subject  for  infor- 
mation sake;  that  it  is  now  my  duty  to  answer  all  reasonable  or  tangible 
objections  that  may  be  brought  forward  against  this  doctrine,  and  leave 
the  result  to  God  Almighty  Himself.  It  is  my  duty  to  remove  every 
obstacle,  and  take  away  every  doubt  that  the  words  of  St.  John,  in  his 
sixth  chapter,  can  only  be  read  really,  and  in  the  true  meaning  of  their 
substance,  and  that  if  read  figuratively,  it  is  infamous  heresy. 

Mark,  beloved  brethren  !  if  I  shall  be  able  to  prove  this  task  which  I 
propose  to  myself — if  I  shall  be  able  to  answer  these  arguments  in  an  irre- 
fragable manner,  then  they  have  not  a  single  shadow  of  pretext  for  con- 
tinuing to  disbelieve  this  doctrine ;  and  if  they  cannot  believe  it  entirely, 
they  are  bound  to  go  back  to  first  principles — to  that  Church  from  which 
they  have  ceded,  or  otherwise  be  convinced  in  their  own  hearts,  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  perversely  oppose  what  they  know  to  be  true. 

I  will  give  Protestants  precedence  in  supposition,  and  I  will  make  a 
most  favorable  hypothesis  for  them.  The  gentleman  who  made  the  ob- 
jection to  me — not  from  himself,  but  from  the  congregation  to  which  he 
belonged — if  present,  I  hope  will  attend  to  my  answer,  as  I  am  deter- 

(701) 


^^02  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

mined,  as  far  as  God  gives  me  power,  to  clear  up  any  difficulty  that  stands 
in  the  way  of  my  dear  Protestant  brethren  embracing  the  dogmas  of  that 
Church  from  which  they  have  been  too  long  separated. 

Here  is  my  dilemma.  Did  Chri.st  teach  His  Apostles  whether  His 
words,  as  written  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  St.  John,  were  to  be  received 
and  believed  really  and  substantially,  or  figuratively  and  spiritually?  To 
say  that  God  did  not  teach  them  would  be  blasphemy.  Whether  Christ 
taught  them  after  the  Holy  Ghost  had  descended  upon  their  heads,  or  be- 
fore He  died,  was  immaterial,  provided  He  taught  them  at  all ;  and  I  hope, 
for  the  sake  of  Christianity,  there  is  no  man  base  enough  to  deny  that 
God  did  teach  the  Apostles  in  what  sense  they  were  to  receive  the.se 
words  ;  and  that  when  they  separated  all  over  the  world,  that  they  taught 
the  real  meaning  of  Christ  to  all  the  churches  where  they  went.  John, 
6th  chap.,  52d  v.,  "  If  any  man  eat  of  this  bread  he  shall  live  forever,  and 
the  bread  which  I  will  give  is  my  flesh  for  the  life  of  the  world."  Now, 
if  the  Protestant  Church  be  right — but,  then,  I  do  not  mean  the  entire 
Protestant  Church,  because  I  know  that  vast  numbers  of  the  Church  of 
England  are  with  us  as  to  the  real  presence,  but  I  speak  of  those  who 
hold  Calvinistic  doctrine,  and  all  those  sects  that  deny  the  real  presence 
— and  of  them  I  say  if  they  be  right,  and  that  Christ  only  meant  that  His 
words  should  be  taken  figuratively,  surely  they  will  admit  that  He  taught 
His  Apostles  what  was  the  true  sense  of  His  words  ;  and  that  they  taught 
in  all  the  churches  to  which  they  went  the  real  meaning  of  their  Lord 
and  Master,  when  He  said,  "  this  is  my  body,  and  this  is  my  blood," — 
"  For  my  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  my  blood  is  drink  indeed." 

Now,  if  the  Apostles  thought  that  His  body  and  blood,  soul  and 
divinity,  were  not  to  be  found  in  this  Sacrament,  did  they  tell  the  churches 
of  Rome,  Edessa,  Jerusalem,  Asia  Minor  and  Asia  Major,  and  Philippi, 
and  all  the  other  churches  in  the  world,  that  such  was  the  case  ?  This 
was  one  of  the  leading  doctrines  of  the  Church,  one  of  every-day  practice, 
even  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the  Chwch  ;  and  surely  they  did  not  keep  the 
people  in  ignorance  of  a  doctrine  so  essential.  But  that  they  did  not,  I 
shall  shortly  prove ;  for  those  6f  the  Church  who  were  likely  to  perish  by 
sea,  or  by  persecution  and  martyrdom,  where  none  of  the  priests  could 
come  near  them,  had  frequently  portions  of  this  sacred  bread  about  them 
that  they  might  communicate  themselves  before  their  exit  out  of  this  life 
— and,  therefore,  it  became  of  vital  importance  to  inform  them  in  what 
light  they  were  to  look  upon  the  bread  and  wine ;  whether  as  a  token  of 
the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  or  as  the  real  body  and  blood  itself.  If 
merely  bread  as  a  token,  surely  then  they  would  be  informed  not  to  kneel 
before  it,  or  to  bow  to  it,  or  adore  it  ;  for  it  would  be  idolatry  to  bow, 
J<neel,  or  adore  bread.     And  if  my  hypothesis  be  right,  and  that  all  the 


FATHER  MAG U IRE.  703 

early  Christians  were  Protestants,  who  were  taught  to  look  upon  the  bread 
and  wine  as  emblematical  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  then  surely 
we  will  find  by  their  acts  that  they  neither  knelt,  bowed,  or  adored  what 
they  must  have  been  taught  to  look  upon  as  mere  bread  and  wine.  Then 
following  up  this  view  of  the  case,  we  should  believe  that  all  the  churches 
in  the  whole  world,  who  were  opposed  to  each  other  in  language,  in  war, 
in  political  matters,  and  in  every  relation  of  life  (religious  faith  excepted), 
all  of  them  believed  that  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist  was  merely 
bread  and  wine,  possessing  no  portion  of  the  body,  blood,  soul,  or  divinity 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  merely  to  be  taken  in  remembrance  of  Him,  with- 
out the  slightest  adoration.  This  is  all  according  to  the  hypothesis  in 
favor  of  Protestantism  ;  but  let  us  come  and  examine  was  such  the  case, 
and  we  will  find  that  there  is  not  a  writing,  there  is  not  a  liturgy,  there 
is  not  a  single  record,  either  written  or  printed,  that  could  prove  that 
such  an  opinion  ever  existed  until  the  eleventh  century — and  I  shall  show 
you  by  and  by  how  the  opinion  stated  just  then  upon  the  subject  was 
received  by  all  the  churches  of  the  known  world.  The  entire  churches  of 
the  sixth  century  in  Asia,  Africa,  and  Europe,  bear  testimony  that  all  the 
people,  though  opposed  to  each  other,  ready  to  kill  and  murder  each 
other  in  war,  were  all  taught  to  believe  in  the  real  presence,  and  received 
it  most  determinedly ;  for,  St.  Paul  says,  "  he  that  receives  this  bread,  or 
this  wine,  not  discerning  the  body  of  the  Lord,  receives  it  to  his  own 
damnation." 

I  am  really  at  a  loss  to  know  with  which  of  the  holy  fathers  to  begin, 
.in  order  to  prove  the  universality  of  the  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  the  real 
presence,  St.  Ireneus,  St.  Cyprian,  St.  Apolica,  St.  Celestus,  or  St. 
Ignatius,  uho  spoke  thus  to  the  heretics  of  that  day:  "  How  can  you 
admit  that  the  true  flesh  of  Christ  is  received  in  the  Eucharist,  when  you 
deny  that  He  took  a  real  body  at  all ;  and  assert  that  He  merely  took  upon 
Him  a  figurative  body,  that  He  might  die  figuratively,  but  not  really?" 
But  supposing  that  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  and  the  opinions  of  all  the 
holy  fathers,  were  nothing — I  ask  who  was  it  that  began  what  they  call 
"  Popery"?  Who  was  the  first  man  that  dared  to  say  that  the  body  and 
blood,  soul  and  divinity,  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  was  con- 
tained under  the  appearance  of  a  bit  of  bread  and  a  sup  of  wine?  The 
whole  world  could  not  have  received  Papist  doctrines  at  once ;  all  the 
people  could  not  have  gone  to  bed  denying  the  real  presence,  and  rise  up 
next  morning  declaring  that  they  all  believed  it ;  some  one  must  have  be- 
gun it — who  then  was  that  man  ?  How  impossible  it  would  have  been  for 
any  individual  to  get  others  to  believe  that  the  infinite  majesty  of  God 
was  contained  in  a  small  bit  of  bread  and  a  small  drop  of  v/ine.  Who 
would  believe  that  Mahomet  was  as  really  present  in  a  small  bit  of  bread, 


704  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

as  when  he  went  forth  sword  in  hand  to  conquer  mankind  ?  The  man 
who  would  dare  to  commence  such  a  story  would  be  looked  upon  as  the 
greatest  impostor  that  ever  the  world  knew,  and  yet  this  doctrine  had  a 
beginning  somewhere  ;  and  if  the  people  were  all  disbelievers  in  the  real 
presence,  they  would  have  told  the  man  who  attempted  to  force  his  doc- 
trine upon  them,  that  they  did  not  believe  it — for  if  so,  the  Apostles 
would  have  taught  them  to  believe  that  such  was  the  case  ;  and,  no  doubt, 
some  person  would  have  accused  this  man  of  introducing  a  new  doctrine. 
But  I  shall  proceed  to  prove  to  you  that  it  would  be  as  utterly  impossible 
for  man  to  introduce  such  a  doctrine,  as  for  him  to  solve  the  mystery  of 
the  blessed  Trinity.  • 

When  our  Divine  Redeemer  came  upon  earth,  He  came  to  found 
Christianity,  and  knowing  the  stiff-neckednesa  of  the  people,  He  began  by 
proving  His  mission  by  miracles  so  stupendous,  that  He  awed  the  minds 
of  all  who  witnessed  them ;  and  thus  having  proved  His  divinity.  He 
then  taught  them  by  faith  to  believe  those  things  which  their  weak  un- 
derstandings could  not  comprehend.  It  was  then  He  taught  them  to 
believe  in  the  mighty  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  to  tell  them  that  God  had 
three  persons,  really  distinct  and  equal  in  all  things ;  yet,  that  there  were 
not  three  Gods,  but  only  one  Godhead,  nature  and  substance,  so  distinct 
that  the  Father  was  God,  and  the  Son  God,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  God, 
but  so  equal  that  all  were  alike,  and  so  perfectly  distinct,  that  when  the 
Son  died,  the  Father  or  the  Holy  Ghost  did  not  die — and  when  we  partake 
of  the  Son  of  God,  we  do  not  partake  of  the  Father  or  the  Holy  Ghost, 
but  of  the  Son. 

When  this  tremendous  mystery  was  proposed — a  mystery  which  no 
man  could  admit  but  through  the  veracity  of  an  eternal  God — when  it 
was  admitted  that  God  was  born  of  a  virgin,  she  still  remaining  a  virgin — 
when  these  things  were  received  and  believed,  because  of  the  miracles  of 
the  Saviour  and  His  Apostles,  who  wrought  even  greater  miracles  than 
Himself;  for  St.  Peter's  shadow  used  to  cure  every  species  of  disease 
that  it  touched,  and  his  aprons  and  neck-cloths  cured  every  kind  of  disease 
also — you  need  not  be  surprised  that  the  doctrine  of  the  real  presence  was 
received,  when  the  doctrine  of  the  Son  of  God  being  born  of  a  virgin  was 
received  ;  but  such  was  the  power  of  the  miracles  by  which  the  multitude 
were  convinced,  that  any  doctrine,  however  repugnant  to  human  under- 
standing, that  those  whom  they  khew  to  be  the  followers  of  Jesus  Christ 
proposed,  would  have  gained  credence.  When  they  had  gained  the  con- 
fidence of  the  people  sufficiently  to  broach  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity, 
and  gain  it  a  hearing,  then  it  was  they  brought  forward  the  doctrine  of 
transubtantiation. 

But  if  it  was  not  brought  forward  when  these  miracles  were  to  assist 


FATHER  MAGUIRE,  705 

in  forcing  it  upon  the  stubborn  minds  of  men,  it  could  never  have  been 
established ;  for  nothing  but  the  unerring  veracity  of  God  could  make 
men  receive  a  doctrine  so  contrary  to  their  notions  of  things — that  the 
substance  of  Jesus  Christ,  soul  and  body,  essence  and  divinity,  was  con- 
tained in  a  small  bit  of  bread,  or  a  small  drop  of  wine,  as  offered  in  the 
holy  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 

If  this  doctrine  was  not  commenced  and  taught  by  the  Apostles,  who 
was  it  that  commenced  it  ?  Who  was  the  first  man  that  broached  the 
doctrine  of  Popery,  as  it  is  called  ?  Was  there  no  man  to  stand  up  and 
write  a  line  against  the  new  doctrine?  There  is  not  a  single  record  in 
any  church  as  to  the  time  this  doctrine  was  received  contrary  to  their 
former  notions  ;  not  a  single  church  all  over  the  world — Muscovite  or  any 
other  church — those  who  used  to  be  quarrelling  about  unleavened  bread, 
shaving  their  beards,  etc. — they  never  had  the  slightest  controversy  about 
the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  or  the  real  presence.  If  there  was  any 
dispute,  who  has  written  it  down  ? — or  where  is  the  book  to  be  found 
that  contains  the  argument?     Nowhere. 

There  was  no  difference  of  opinion  upon  the  subject  until  the  eleventh 
century,  when  Berringerius,  a  French  friar,  wrote  a  work,  stating  that 
Christ  intended  His  words  to  be  taken  figuratively;  and  that  when  He 
said,  "  This  is  my  body,  and  this  is  my  blood,"  He  meant,  this  is  emblem- 
atical of  my  body  and  blood.  To  show  you  the  consequence  of  his 
broaching  this  new  doctrine,  I  must  tell  you  that  there  were  eleven  pro- 
vincial councils  held  upon  him,  and  he  was  declared  a  heretic,  and  was 
anathematized.  Lanfrank,  who  was  the  primate  of  England,  wrote 
against  this  doctrine,  and  so  did  all  the  heads  of  the  various  churches  in 
the  world.  Berringerius  died  anathematizing  his  own  doctrine,  and  de- 
claring that  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  were  really  and  truly  present  in 
the  holy  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 

I  will  ask  Protestants,  and  all  dissenters,  was  not  the  spirit  and  piety 
of  the  people  more  active  in  the  apostolic  ages  than  in  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury?— and  yet  we  find,  that  the  moment  Berringerius  attempted  to 
introduce  a  new  doctrine,  he  was  anathematized.  Surely,  then,  if  Popery 
was  attempted  to  be  taught  in  the  earlier  ages,  contrary  to  the  doctrine 
taught  by  the  Apostles,  it  would  have  met  with  a  warmer  opposition  ;  and 
yet  we  do  not  find  one  word,  either  written  or  printed,  showing  that  the 
doctrine  was  opposed  until  the  days  of  Berringerius,  in  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury. Surely,  if  any  new  doctrine  was  introduced  in  the  second,  third, 
or  fourth  centuries,  when  the  Church  was  flourishing — when  it  was  mak- 
ing heaven  rejoice,  and  hell  tremble — it  would  have  been  opposed,  when 
we  find  it  so  warmly  opposed  in  the  eleventh  century,  after  the  dark 
ages.  .  It  is  quite  clear,  then,  that  this  doctrine  must  have  come  down  to 


706  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

us  in  another  form,  and  under  authority ;  and  that  that  authority  was 
Christ  Himself  to  His  Apostles,  and  that  they  taught  it  to  all  the  churches 
to  which  they  were  sent  to  preach  Christianity,  and  that  these  churches 
received  the  doctrine  under  the  warrant  of  the  Apostles,  whose  mission 
was  proved  by  the  stupendous  miracles  which  they  performed. 

It  is  said  that  Christ  had  said  He  was  many  things  as  well  as  bread 
and  wine  ;  for  instance.  He  said,  "  I  am  the  vine,"  "  I  am  the  shepherd," 
*'  I  am  the  door."  This  was  such  nonsense  that  I  think  I  should  not 
take  up  your  time  by  answering  them.  But  I  will.  Did  Christ  ever  take 
a  vine  in  His  hand  and  say,  "  I  am  this  vine  "  ?  Did  He  ever  take  a 
shepherd  in  His  hand  and  say,  "  I  am  this  shepherd  "  ?  Did  He  ever  take 
a  door  in  His  hand  and  say,  "  I  am  this  door  "  ?  No,  He  did  not ;  but 
He  said,  "  I  am  the  door,"  which  meant  that  He  was  the  door  of  the 
Church,  into  which  all  should  come  by  Him.  "  I  am  the  good  shepherd," 
showing  that  the  good  shepherd  should  lay  down  his  life  for  the  flock,  as 
He  was  about  to  do.  This  was  His  meaning.  If  Christ  at  His  Last  Sup- 
per said,  "  I  am  this  bread,"  He  would  have  spoken  nonsense ;  but  He 
did  not  say  so.  He  took  the  bread,  and  having  broken  it,  He  said,  "  This 
is  my  body,"  knowing  that  He  had  changed  the  substance  of  the  bread 
into  His  body.  Nor  did  He  say,  "This  wine  is  my  blood,"  but  He  said, 
"  This  is  my  blood,"  holding  what  was  wine,  but  what  was  then  trans- 
figured into  His  blood.  If  at  the  marriage  of  Cana,  in  Galilee,  He  said, 
"  This  water  is  wine,"  He  would  have  said  nonsense,  because  He  had  really 
changed  the  substance  of  the  water.  If  Moses  had  called  his  rod  "  a 
rod,"  after  it  had  been  changed  into  a  serpent,  he  would  have  spoken 
wrong.  But  it  had  always  been  the  custom  to  call  things  after  the  things 
from  whence  they  came,  and  thus  we  find  that  the  bread  has  been  called 
bread  after  it  was  changed.  Christ  called  it  bread  ;  but  what  bread  did 
He  call  it  ?  *'  I  am  the  living  bread  which  came  down  from  heaven  " — 
showing  that  it  was  not  common  bread,  but  bread  that  came  down  from 
heaven. 

Another  question  is — how  could  Christ's  body  be  in  all  places,  and  at, 
all  times — His  body  not  being  infinite,  as  well  as  His  divinity  ?  I  will  ask 
those  who  have  asked  this  silly  question,  did  not  God  make  Eve  out  of 
Adam's  rib  ?  How  often  must  God  have  multiplied  the  rib,  before  He  could 
have  made  her  body — and  yet,  it  is  quite  certain  that  He  made  Eve  out  of 
the  single  rib ;  so  that,  as  God  could  multiply  the  rib,  to  make  Eve,  He 
could  also  multiply  His  own  body,  for  the  spiritual  food  of  man. 

The  Jews  did  not  believe  in  Him,  because  they  thought  He  was  going 
to  give  them  His  flesh  carnally  to  eat.  He  then  showed  them  that  the 
flesh  was  nothing ;  that  it  was  the  spirit  that  quickened,  but  yet  they 
Would  not  believe  in  Him.     When  Christ  arose  from  the  dead,  He  came 


FATHER  MAGUIRE. 


TOY 


to  the  Apostles,  where  they  were  assembled,  shut  up  in  a  room,  double 
locked,  and  He  had  His  body  with  Him.  He  entered  the  room  and  said, 
*'  Peace  be  with  you."  How,  1  will  ask,  did  He  enter  if  His  body  after 
death  was  mere  flesh  ?  St.  Paul  says,  there  is  a  natural  body  which  is 
placed  in  the  grave,  and  a  supernatural  body  that  rises  out  of  it.  It  is 
sown  in  corruption,  but  rises  in  incorruption  ;  so  that  the  body,  though 
the  same,  undergoes  a  change.  Christ  was  really  present  with  the  Apos- 
tles in  the  room ;  for  when  some  doubts  were  expressed  as  to  its  being 
Him,  He  said,  "  A  spirit  could  not  have  flesh  and  bones  as  I  have."  Now, 
if  Christ  was  in  that  room,  and  had  His  body  there,  He  must  have  en- 
tered the  room  in  a  spiritual  manner.  It  was  in  the  same  manner  we 
believe  Him  to  be  present  on  our  altars,  and  in  our  sacrifice — first  spiritu- 
ally, and  then  really.  We  cannot  fathom  the  mystery — neither  can  we 
fathom  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  and  yet  we  believe  it,  by  faith,  and 
get  credit  for  our  belief ;  so,  in  like  manner,  the  Catholic  Church  requires 
us  to  believe  that  He  is  present,  soul  and  body,  in  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Eucharist,  because  He  Himself  has  said  so. 


THE   HOLY    SACRIFICE  OF  THE  MASS. 

HAVE  no  will  in  you,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  neither  will  I 
accept  sacrifice  at  your  hands.  From  the  rising  of  the  sun 
even  to  the  going  down  of  the  same,  my  name  shall  be  great 
among  the  Gentiles ;  and  in  every  place  incense  shall  be 
offered  unto  my  name,  and  a  pure  offering  :  for  my  name  shall  be  great 
among  the  Gentiles,  and  in  every  place  is  offered  unto  me  a  pure  ob- 
lation." 

My  dearly  beloved  brethren : — From  these  words  of  the  ancient 
prophet,  I  shall  be  able,  in  the  course  of  the  present  sermon,  to  demon- 
strate the  close  and  inseparable  connection  that  exists  between  the  great 
and  bloody  sacrifice  on  the  cross — of  which  this  day  is  the  glorious  an- 
niversary— and  the  unbloody  sacrifice  of  the  new  law,  the  Sacrifice  of 
the  Eucharist,  which  is  called  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass. 

As  I  am  always  most  anxious  that  every  individual — no  matter  how 
humble,  how  illiterate,  or  how  shallow-minded — should  fully  understand 
everything  I  say,  in  all  its  bearings,  I  shall  not  seek  to  clothe  my  argument 
in  all  the  tinseled  array  of  oratory — but  rather  speak  in  plain,  homely 
language,  as  I  am  anxious  to  preach  not  myself,  but  Christ  crucified.  As 
the  object  of  all  preachers  should  be  to  make  their  hearers  acquainted 
with  the  subject  from  its  commencement,  I  shall  commence  by  leading 
you  back  to  first  principles — not  for  the  sake  of  the  learned,  but  the  un- 
learned— that  they  may  fully  understand  the  footing  or  basis  upon  which 
the  most  holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  is  placed,  with  reference  to  the 
bloody  sacrifice  on  the  cross  on  Calvary. 

All  our  own  acts  are  of  so  insignificant  a  nature,  all  we  have  or  pos- 
sess are  in  themselves  so  worthless,  that  if  we  offered  them  to  God  He 
would  not  accept  them,  there  being  nothing  worthy  of  His  eternal 
majesty  in  them ;  therefore,  all  our  salutations  to  each  other — such  as 
the  bowing  to  superiors,  or  to  the  Queen — are  all  works  that  are  admis- 
sible, because  they  do  not  interfere  with  the  worship  due  and  acceptable 
to  God. 

The  only  thing  acceptable  to  God  is  a  pure  sacrifice,  which  was  offered 

externally  and  openly  to  God,  so  that  it  would  be  entirely  distinguished 

from  any  salutation  or  offering  made  to  man,  no  matter  how  high  his 

rank  or  dignity.     Leviticus  declares  that  the  man  who  made  a  sacrifice  to 

(708) 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  709 

anything  but  to  God,  was  guilty  of  idolatry,  and  should  be  cut  off  from 
the  midst  of  the  people. 

I  would  wish  you  to  know  that,  at  all  times,  and  in  all  ages,  all 
nations — whether  black  or  white  people  inhabited  them — all  paid  rever- 
ence to  some  superior  being  or  another.  This  fact  is  incontrovertibly  the 
truth ;  so  that  it  would  appear  that  God  had  stamped  it  upon  the  minds 
of  all  mankind  that  sacrifice  should  be  offered  to  Him.  We  find  that, 
long  before  God  revealed  His  will  to  Adam,  Cain  and  Abel  offered  sacri- 
fice to  God — nay,  we  find  Isaac,  Jacob,  and  Moses  himself,  offering  sacri- 
fice, before  they  knew  the  real  wishes  of  God  upon  the  subject — that  is, 
as  to  what  sort  of  sacrifice  He  would  accept. 

I  have  been  asked,  in  a  letter,  signed  "  A  Catholic  "  (but  which,  from 
the  ignorance  displayed,  could  never  have  come  from  a  Catholic),  whether 
there  were  any  faithful  at  the  time  of  the  flood,  except  Noah  ? — and, 
also,  if  there  were  any  priests  or  bishops  then  to  offer  sacrifice  for  the 
people  ?  If  the  writer  took  the  trouble  of  looking  into  the  sacred  writ- 
ings, he  would  see  that  the  ordination  of  bishops  were  of  Christ's  own 
ordering,  according  to  the  new  law,  and  that,  therefore,  there  were  no 
bishops  at  all  in  the  old  law.  The  father  of  every  family  offered  sacrifice 
for  himself  and  his  household  ;  but  not  having  offered  the  sort  of  sacrifice 
God  had  ordered — or  having  offered  it  in  another  manner  than  that  in 
'which  God  had  ordered  it  should  be  offered — God  would  not  receive  any 
sacrifice  from  them.  When  man  was  left  to  his  mere  nature,  God  took 
from  him  whatever  sacrifice  he  saw  fit  to  offer ;  but  when  He  was  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  reveal  Himself,  then  He  would  not  receive  any  sacrifice 
but  the  one  He  had  ordered,  and  that,  too,  should  be  offered  in  the  exact 
manner  in  which  He  had  directed  it. 

We  find  in  the  old  law,  called  Leviticus,  no  less  than  four  kinds  of 
sacrifices  ordained  by  God.  The  first  was  a  holocaust,  which  was  to  be 
burned  entirely;  this  sacrifice  was  the  prefiguration  of  the  glorious, 
though  bloody  sacrifice  on  the  cross  of  Calvary — for  there  it  was  that 
Christ  offered  Himself  to  His  heavenly  Father  for  the  sins  of  man- 
kind, whole  and  entire,  taking  upon  Himself  all  our  sins,  though  in- 
capable of  committing  a  single  sin  Himself.  The  next  was  a  sacrifice 
of  praise  and  thanksgiving;  it  was  not  offered  in  the  same  manner  of 
the  holocaust,  the  priest  and  the  persons  who  offered  it  being  suffered 
to  partake  of  it  after  it  was  offered  to  God.  Then  there  was  the  sin 
offering,  which  the  priest  was  to  offer  for  the  sins  of  the  people ;  and 
as  it  was  an  offering  for  sin,  no  person  guilty  of  sin  could  touch  it — 
therefore,  the  priest  alone,  for  the  time,  being  the  representative  of 
God,  was  suffered  to  partake  of  it.  The  fourth  was  a  peace  offering, 
of  which  both  priest  and   people  were  suffered   to   partake.      St.  Paul 


710  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULP  IT. 

states  that  these  offerings  were  nothing  in  themselves;  but  inasmuch 
as  they  shadowed  forth  the  offering  of  Christ  Himself,  and  could  not 
be  of  the  smallest  use  to  any  person  but  those  who  looked  upon  them 
as  the  types  and  figures  of  the  promised  Messiah. 

The  holocaust  was  the  type  of  Christ's  bloody  and  entire  offering 
upon  the  cross ;  the  sin  offering  was  a  type  of  His  entire  offering  of 
Himself  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  The  other  two  offerings,  not  of  the 
flesh  or  blood  of  animals  at  all,  were  typical  of  the  unbloody  sacrifice  of 
the  Last  Supper,  which  is  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass. 

Leviticus,  2d  chap.,  ist  v.,  "And  when  any  will  offer  a  meat  offering 
unto  the  Lord,  his  offering  shall  be  of  fine  flour,  and  he  shall  pour  oil 
upon  it,  and  put  frankincense  theron."  2d  v.,  "  And  he  shall  bring  it  to 
Aaron's  sons  the  priests :  and  he  shall  take  thereout  his  handful  of 
the  flour  thereof,  and  of  the  oil  thereof,  with  all  the  frankincense 
thereof;  and  the  priest  shall  burn  the  memorial  of  it  upon  the 
altar,  to  be  an  offering  made  by  fire,  of  a  sweet  savor  unto  the 
Lord."  3d  v.,  "  And  the  remnant  of  the  meat  offering  shall  be 
Aaron's  and  his  sons' :  it  is  a  thing  most  holy  of  the  offerings  of 
the  Lord  made  by  fire."  4th  v.,  "  And  if  thou  bring  an  oblation  of  a 
meat  offering  baken  in  the  oven,  it  shall  be  unleavened  cakes,  of  fine 
flour  mingled  with  oil,  or  unleavened  wafers  anointed  with  oil."  5th 
v.,  "  And  if  thy  oblation  be  a  meat  offering  baken  in  a  pan,  it  shall  be  of 
fine  flour  unleavened,  mingled  with  oil."  6th  v.,  "Thou  shalt  part  it  in 
pieces,  and  pour  oil  thereon :  it  is  a  meat  offering." 

Here  you  see  that  there  were  two  sacrifices  bloody  and  two  unbloody  ; 
I  will  ask  what  did  these  unbloody  sacrifices  typify?  Surely  it  was  not 
the  bloody  sacrifice  of  the  cross,  on  which  Christ's  body  and  blood  were 
offered.  No,  but  they  were  types  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist,  in- 
stituted at  the  Last  Supper;  where  He  said,  taking  bread  in  His  hands, 
"  This  is  my  body."  If  there  was  nothing  but  bread  and  wine  in  the  Sac- 
rifice of  the  Mass,  surely  the  type  would  be  equal  to  it — the  prefiguration 
as  good  as  the  thing  prefigured.  But  if  you  allow  that  the  bread  and 
wine  are  changed  into  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  then  you  will  at 
once  admit  that  the  sacrifice  of  the  new  law  is  infinitely  superior  to  the 
sacrifice  of  the  old  law,  by  which  it  was  prefigured. 

In  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Genesis,  we  find  that  when  Abraham  was 
returning  from  the  pursuit  of  the  four  kings,  bearing  with  him  the  spoils 
of  the  five  kings  whom  they  had  plundered,  and  the  people  whom  they 
were  carrying  away  prisoners ;  the  king  of  Sodom  went  out  to  meet  him, 
and  in  the  eighteenth  verse  we  find,  "  And  Melchizedek,  king  of  Salem, 
brought  forth  bread  and  wine :  for  he  was  the  priest  of  the  most  high 
God."     19th  v.,  "And  he  blessed  him,  and  said,  Blessed  be  Abram  of 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  ^\\ 

the  most  high  God,  possessor  of  heaven  and  earth."  Now  mark  the 
words,  "  brought  forth  bread  and  wine,"  means  brought  forth  to  sac- 
rifice, for  by  this  only  could  he  have  proved  his  priesthood.  Any  man 
might  have  blessed  Abram  ;  but  it  was  a  priest  only  that  could  offer  the 
sacrifice.  But  in  the  Protestant  Bible  they  place  the  word  **  and  "  instead 
of  "  for,"  and  thus  make  it  read,  "  and  he  was  a  priest  of  the  most  high 
God," — instead  of  "  for  he  was  a  priest  of  the  most  high  God."  He 
brought  forth  the  bread  and  wine  first,  and  blessed  him  afterwards ; 
clearly  showing  that  he  first  offered  the  sacrifice,  and  then  gave  Abram 
the  blessing. 

Protestants  say  that  he  merely  brought  forth  the  bread  and  wine  to 
refresh  Abram  and  his  men  ;  but  this  could  not  be  the  case,  because  they 
had  all  the  spoils  of  the  five  kings  with  them,  and,  therefore,  did  not 
want  bread  and  wine  from  Melchizedek.  I  ask,  did  Melchizedek  ever 
show  one  sign  of  his  priesthood  until  that  day?  He  never  did.  I  shall 
go  on,  however,  until  I  convince  all  that  Melchizedek  was  a  priest,  and 
that  his  ministry  was  from  heaven,  and  that  Jesus  Christ  Himself  took 
His  order  from  him.  St.  Paul  says  Christ  was  a  high-priest,  forever,  ac- 
cording to  the  order  of  Melchizedek.  What  instituted  the  order  of 
Aaron's  priesthood,  and  prevented  any  man  upon  pain  of  death  from 
offering  sacrifice  .except  Aaron  and  his  sons  ?  Why  did  not  Christ  take 
His  priesthood  according  to  Aaron,  instead  of  according  to  Melchizedek  ? 
But  St.  Paul  said,  "  that  as  the  order  of  priesthood  was  changed,  so  also 
was  the  sacrifice."  At  the  Last  Supper,  our  Lord  and  Saviour  instituted 
a  new  sacrifice,  under  the  figure  of  bread  and  wine ;  and,  being  a  priest 
according  to  the  order  of  Melchizedek,  He  offered  up  that  sacrifice, 
which  was  no  less  than  His  own  flesh  and  blood — He  being  eternal  and 
infinite,  is  to  this  day  offering  up  the  same  sacrifice  for  us ;  showing 
clearly  that  the  priesthood  of  Melchizedek  was  to  supersede  that  of 
Aaron — the  sacrifice  being  changed  from  a  bloody  to  a  clean  oblation. 

St.  Paul,  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  loth  chap.,  4th  v.,  "  For  it  is 
■impossible  that  with  the  blood  of  oxen  and  goats  sins  should  be  taken 
away.  (5th  v.).  Therefore,  coming  into  the  world,  he  saith,  Sacrifice  and 
oblation  thou  wouldst  not,  but  a  body  thou  hast  fitted  to  me.  (6th  v.), 
Holocausts  for  sin  did  not  please  thee.  (7th  v.).  Then  said  I,  Behold,  I 
come :  in  the  head  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  that  I  should  do  Thy 
will,  O  Lord." 

Now,  we  find  that  none  of  the  sacrifices  which  the  priests  of  the  old 
law  offered,  pleased  God  ;  and  Christ  having  come  to  institute  a  new 
sacrifice  for  the  remission  of  sin,  and  also  to  bring  man  to  his  Creator  by 
repentance — instituted  at  His  Last  Supper  a  clean  oblation  of  bread  and 
wine,  so  that  the  bloody  sacrifice  of  His  body  might  be  no  longer  neces- 


712  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

sary;  yet  He  suffered  Himself  to  be  crucified,  because  it  was  the  type 
which  the  sacrifices  of  Aaron's  priesthood  had  been  so  long  prefiguring. 
But,  because  that  sacrifice  was  attended  with  pain  and  suffering,  He  no 
longer  required  it  to  be  offered,  having  fulfilled  the  law. 

It  being  necessary  for  every  person  to  work  out  his  salvation  by  faith 
and  good  works,  Christ  has  left  us  His  body  and  blood,  that,  by  feeding 
upon  it,  we  may  gain  sufficient  strength  to  be  able  to  overcome  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil.  Christ  did  not  die  that  He  might  give  a  loose 
reign  to  the  evil  propensities  of  our  nature,  so  that  man  might  be  saved 
by  merely  believing  in  Him.  He  came  for  a  far  different  purpose — He 
came  to  open  the  way  to  eternal  life  which  was  closed  against  man, 
and  to  reconcile  him  to  his  offended  Maker.  This  was  the  object  of 
Christ's  mission  ;  and  if  any  man  thinks  that  the  blood  of  Christ,  being 
shed  for  sinners,  is  sufficient  to  save  him,  without  any  co-operation  on 
his  own  part,  he  will  be  miserably  mistaken.  Christ  died  for  mankind,  and, 
in  the  excess  of  His  love,  left  behind  Him  a  sacrifice,  which  could  be  daily 
offered  to  His  heavenly  Father  for  the  remission  of  sins.  God  would  not 
receive  any  sacrifice  from  man  until  Christ  came  and  offered  His  own 
body  upon  the  cross,  which  was  acceptable  to  His  heavenly  Father ;  and 
then,  lest  we  should  fail  in  obtaining  His  favor  forever,  He  left  us  the 
same  identical  sacrifice,  under  the  mystery  of  the  most  holy  Sacrament  of 
the  Eucharist.  In  that  holy  sacrament  He  leaves  His  body  and  blood  to 
be  banqueted  upon — he  leaves  us  a  banquet  which  angels  dare  not  touch 
— so  full  of  His  grace  and  love,  and  so  identical  with  the  sacrifice  offered 
upon  Calvary,  that  if  we  participate  worthily,  we  are  just  as  well  off  as  if 
we  were  by  at  the  tree  of  Calvary,  when  He  yielded  up  His  spirit  to  His 
heavenly  Father. 

You  will  see,  my  beloved  brethren,  that  Christ  could  not  have  been  a 
priest  according  to  Melchizedek,  forever,  if  He  was  never  to  offer  the  obla- 
tion but  the  once ;  He  being  infinite,  and  all  His  works  infinite,  having 
once  offered  His  body  and  blood  for  the  sins  of  man,  He  must  be  always 
offering  the  same  sacrifice.  You  may  ask,  if  Christ  is  always  offering- 
sacrifice  for  us,  is  not  that  all  that  is  necessary?  No,  that  never  was  the 
object  of  Christ's  coming:  for  He  says  Himself,  "  He  that  would  enter 
into  eternal  life  must  keep  my  commandments  ";  so  that  He  clearly 
shows  His  mission  was  to  open  the  way  to  the  holy  of  holies,  and  to 
leave  behind  Him  shepherds  that  would  guide  the  flock  in  the  way  of 
eternal  life. 

St.  Paul  says,  "  He  that  eats  of  this  bread,  or  drinks  of  this  wine,  not 
discerning  the  body  of  the  Lord ;  eats  and  drinks  his  own  damnation." 
Every  one  that  eats  or  drinks  this  sacrament  unworthily,  crucifies  to  him- 
self anew  the  Son  of  God.     We  can  crucify  Christ  ever>'  time  we  give 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  713 

scandal  to  any  one  of  His  little  ones.  St.  John,  in  his  Book  of  Revela- 
tions, states,  "  that  he  saw  a  lamb  standing  before  the  throne  of  God,  as 
it  were  slain  ";  showing  that  though  Christ  was  seated  upon  the  throne 
beside  the  Father,  yet  He  was  standing  like  a  slain  lamb,  making  inter- 
cession with  the  heavenly  Father  for  us.  "  He  was  standing  as  it  were 
slain  " — showing  that  He  was  offered  up  to  His  heavenly  Father  just  in 
the  same  manner  as  He  was  upon  the  cross  of  Calvary ;  and  proving  that 
the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  in  which  He  is  offered  up  daily  to  God  the 
Father,  is  exactly  the  same  as  the  offering  of  the  "  Lamb  of  God  "  upon 
the  cross,  having  the  same  high-priest  and  victim — a  priest  being  merely 
appointed  to  do  the  outward  or  visible  act,  but  who  dare  not  for  a 
moment  speak  or  act  as  of  himself,  but  merely  as  the  servant  of  Jesus  Christ, 
who  is  the  high-priest.  In  the  words  of  consecration,  the  priest  uses  the 
words  of  Christ,  he  being  the  representative ;  and  thus  it  is  Christ  who 
speaks  Himself,  "  This  is  my  body  ";  showing  that  it  was  He  who  made 
the  change  from  bread  to  His  own  body,  and  from  wine  to  His  own  blood. 

Were  I  to  go  into  the  various  proofs  which  I  could  adduce  from  the 
new  law,  of  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  being  exactly  the  same  sacrifice 
offered  upon  the  cross,  it  would  take  up  five  Lectures  instead  of  one. 
But  in  the  words  of  the  institution,  Christ  says,  "This  is  my  body  which 
is  given  for  you  ;  this  is  my  blood  which  is  shed  for  you."  Do  this  by 
my  authority,  and  in  remembrance  of  me — in  memorial  of  my  death  and 
passion.  He  told  the  Apostles,  My  body  is  not  yet  crucified  for  you,  or 
my  blood  is  not  yet  shed  for  you  ;  but  I  offer  up  this  to  the  Father,  and  He 
will  accept  it  for  you.  You  are  not  to  do  this  until  I  am  dead,  and  then 
you  are  to  do  it.  Mind  how  Christ  said,  "  This  is  my  body  which  is  given 
for  you,  and  this  is  my  blood  which  is  shed  for  you  ";  but  He  did  not 
say,  "  This  is  my  body  which  is  given  to  you,"  because  that  would  be  a 
sacramental  act,  instead  of  a  sacrificial  one.  Daniel  said,  Every  time  you 
do  this,  you  make  a  memento  of  the  death  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ.  Malachi,  in  writing  of  the  change  made  in  the  sacrifice,  says, 
**  Christ  instituted  a  sacrifice  which  would  be  offered  up  from  the  rising 
of  the  sun  to  the  going  down  thereof ";  showing  that  it  could  not  be  any 
of  the  sacrifices  of  the  old  law,  which  were  not  offered  up  daily. 

Some  Protestants  may  say  that  this  offering  was  merely  a  memento  or 
remembrance  of  the  Last  Supper.  I  answer  them,  by  asking  them  to  di- 
vest their  minds  of  every  feeling  save  that  of  arriving  at  the  truth ;  and 
then  if  they  place  their  hands  upon  their  hearts,  they  will  admit  that 
Christ  is  as  really  and  substantially  present  upon  our  altar,  as  He  was 
really  and  substantially  present  at  the  Last  Supper,  or  upon  the  cross  of 
Calvary. 

If  the  Protestants  think  that  offering  bread  and  wine  is  a  representa- 


714  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

tion  of  Christ's  Last  Supper — how  infinitely  superior  is  that  belief  that 
makes  Him  really  so !  Comparing  small  with  great — if  there  was  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and  that  Wellington  was  present, 
would  not  the  representation  be  more  complete  than  if  he  was  only  rep- 
resented ?  So  with  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist  —  it  is  infinitely 
superior  to  any  memento  or  representation  of  the  Last  Supper,  Christ 
being  really  and  substantially  present  Himself. 

I  say  it  would  be  a  mock  representation,  if  Christ  was  not  really 
present ;  but,  by  His  being  present,  and  offering  Himself  to  His  heavenly 
Father,  the  sacrifice  is  complete.  How  humble,  how  humiliating,  how 
kind  and  loving,  of  the  Redeemer,  to  come  and  suffer  Himself  to  be 
offered  upon  our  altars — often  for  an  unworthy  congregation,  and  often 
by  an  unworthy  minister — but  Christ  being  always  the  high-priest  Him- 
self, the  sacrifice  must  be  acceptable  to  God.  If  Christ  was  not  really 
present,  and  if  the  bread  and  wine  were  not  changed  into  His  body  and 
blood,  soul  and  divinity,  it  would  be  blasphemy  to  offer  them  to  God,  as 
it  would  then  be  a  new  offering. 

Show  me  the  place,  point  out  the  time,  tell  me  the  historian,  that 
could  say,  that  in  this  place  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  was  never  offered. 
There  is  not  a  town,  a  village,  a  hamlet,  or  a  place  in  the  known  world 
(I  do  not  speak  of  places  that  have  been  lately  discovered),  but  I  say, 
show  me  the  place  in  all  the  known  world  where  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass 
has  not  been  offered  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles  down  to  the  time 
of  Luther,  There  is  not  one  place  to  point  to.  We  know  that  for 
fifteen  hundred  years  it  was  offered  up  in  every  place  in  the  known 
world.  Were  they  all  idolaters?  God  forbid!  We  find  that  they  all 
offered  up  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  as  the  same  sacrifice  offered  by  Christ 
Himself  upon  the  cross,  but  in  an  unbloody  manner.  If  you  deny  the 
sacrifice  of  the  altar,  you  proclaim  that  your  forefathers  for  fifteen  hun- 
dred years  were  idolaters:  and,  consequently,  were  damned.  All  the 
Protestants  do  not  believe  this ;  for  I  could  quote  nearly  as  many  Prot- 
estant bishops  who  believed  in  the  real  presence,  as  I  could  quote  holy 
fathers;  I  have  fifteen  Protestant  bishops  who  wrote  believing  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  real  presence,  and  thirty-four  testimonies  of  the  holy 
fathers,  all  of  which  I  intended  to  read,  if  time  permitted,  but  I  shall  pass 
them  over  and  go  on  to  some  proofs  from  the  Sacred  Scriptures. 

Daniel,  9th  chap,,  27th  v.,  "  And  in  the  middle  of  the  week  he  shall 
cause  the  sacrifice  and  the  oblation  to  fail ;  and  there  shall  be  in  the 
temple  abomination  and  desolation."  Now  this  means,  that  at  the  end 
of  the  world  Antichrist  will  have  persecuted  the  true  Church  so  much, 
that  for  half  a  year  the  sacrifice  would  not  be  offered  in  the  temple,  like 
as  it  was  here  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth.     Now,  I  may  be  asked  what  sac- 


FATHER  MAGUIRE.  715 

rifice  did  Daniel  allude  to  ?  and  I  answer  it  from  the  24th  chap.,  3d  v., 
of  Matthew:  "And  as  He  sat  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  the  disciples 
came  unto  Him  privately,  saying,  Tell  us  when  shall  these  things  be?  and 
what  shall  be  the  sign  of  Thy  coming,  and  of  the  end  of  the  world  ?  " 
15th  v.,  "When  ye  therefore  shall  see  the  abomination  of  desolation^ 
spoken  of  by  Daniel  the  prophet,  stand  in  the  holy  place,  (Whoso  readeth 
let  him  understand)."  The  greatest  sign  of  His  coming  was  to  be  the 
persecution  of  Antichrist  against  the  Faith ;  so  that  the  sacrifice  should 
be  offered  up  privately,  and  not  in  the  church.  What  sacrifice  is  this  that 
is  spoken  of?  Protestants  say  it  is  the  sacrifice  of  prayer  and  thanks- 
giving— the  offering  of  an  humble  and  contrite  heart.  This  could  not  be 
the  sacrifice  at  all,  for  no  power  of  Antichrist  could  have  the  smallest 
control  over  the  mind — it  should  be  some  outward  sign  or  offering ;  sO' 
that  it  clearly  meant  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass.  This  was  the  sure  sign 
of  the  end  of  the  world,  when  that  holy  and  august  sacrifice  would  be 
prevented  all  over  the  world.  What  sacrifice  do  they  offer  in  the  Prot- 
estant Church  which  could  be  suppressed  ?  None  whatever ;  and  there- 
fore it  could  not  be  the  Church  of  Christ  against  which  Antichrist  was  to- 
prevail. 

I  am  grieved  that  I  have  not  time  to  go  more  fully  into  this  subject ; 
but  I  will  ask,  was  not  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  offered  during  fifteen 
centuries  all  over  the  known  world,  and  even  up  to  this  day,  now  in  the 
nineteenth  century?  .  Do  not  the  many  splendid  edifices  which  the  fury 
of  the  Reformation  had  levelled,  bear  ample  testimony  to  the  zeal  and 
devotion  of  the  early  Christians  by  whom  they  were  erected,  all  of  whom 
believed  in  the  real  presence  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Eucharist?  Yes,  they  must  admit,  that  until  the  time  of  Luther  and 
Calvin,  the  doctrine  of  the  real  presence  was  the  only  one  to  be  found 
among  classes  of  professing  Christians.  I  shall  not  go  into  the  characters 
of  either  Luther  or  Calvin ;  but  I  must  say  that  the  thirst  after  truth, 
now  so  strongly  evinced  by  all  classes  of  Protestants,  shows  that  they  have- 
no  confidence  in  these  founders  of  the  church  of  the  Reformation. 
Protestants  are  now  beginning  to  see,  read,  and  think  for  themselves ; 
and  the  effect  of  this  thinking  was  best  told  by  fifteen  Protestants 
embracing  the  Church  of  Christ  in  one  day  in  this  chapel. 

The  Rev.  gentleman  then  read  a  short  extract  from  the  introductory  portion  ol 
a  pamphlet  to  which  he  had  alluded.    These  are  the  words : — 

"The  barrier  which  stands  most  prominently  to  impede  the  union,  or 
reconciliation,  between  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Protestant  Churches, 
arises  from  their  widely  different  views  on  the  subject  of  the  Holy 
Communion ;  my  first  ambition,  therefore,  shall  be,  to  create  unanimity 


Y16  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

on  this  important  sacrament,  and  as  it  must  be  no  small  matter  in  our 
favor  to  have  apostolic  authority  upon  this  momentous  point,  wherein 
Christ's  mystical  body  has  too  long  resembled  a  house  divided  against 
itself,  I  now  do  select  the  materials  wherewith  to  found  the  basis  of 
Catholic  unity,  from  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Corinthians ;  this 
great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  having  been  more  explicit  upon  the  nature 
and  subject  of  the  Holy  Communion  in  this  epistle,  than  any  others  of 
the  inspired  writers,  when  contributing  to  the  volume  of  the  New 
Testament.  In  the  chapter  succeeding  our  text,  St.  Paul,  with  the  design 
of  reforming  the  abuses  which  had  crept  into  the  Corinthian  Church 
relative  to  this  holy  feast,  takes  occasion  to  explain  its  institution,  wherein 
two  things  are  most  prominently  set  forth  by  him ;  first,  the  death  of 
Christ ;  secondly,  the  memorial  of  His  death,  as  expressed  in  this  sacra- 
ment. These  are  his  words  (i  Cor.,  nth  chap.,  verses  23,  24,  25):  '  For 
I  have  received  of  the  Lord,  that  which  also  I  delivered  unto  you,  that 
the  Lord  Jesus,  the  same  night  in  which  He  was  betrayed,  took  bread  ;  and 
when  He  had  given  thanks,  He  brake  it,  and  said,  Take,  eat ;  this  is  my 
body,  which  is  broken  for  you  :  this  do  in  remembrance  of  me.  After  the 
same  manner,  also.  He  took  the  cup,  when  He  had  supped,  saying,  This  cup 
is  the  New  Testament  in  my  blood ;  this  do  ye,  as  often  as  ye  drink  it,  in 
remembrance  of  me.'  Thus  we  have,  in  the  description  of  this  sacrament, 
plainly  set  before  us  by  this  great  apostle,  first,  the  death  or  sacrifice  of 
Christ ;  secondly,  the  Lord's  Supper  or  feast  upon  this  sacrifice ;  and  that 
it  was  no  other  sacrifice,  the  memorial  of  which  was  kept  alive  by  this 
feast,  but  that  very  identical  one  offered  up  for  the  salvation  of  mankind, 
wherein  Christ,  the  pure  Latnb  of  God,  was  both  the  high-priest  and  the 
victim,  is  manifest  and  plain  from  these  words  of  the  apostle,  which  are 
found  in  the  very  next  verse  which  follows  the  institution  of  this 
sacrament.  (26),  *  For  as  often  as  ye  eat  this  bread,  and  drink  this  cup, 
ye  do  show  the  Lord's  death  till  He  come.'  How  awfully  sublime  and 
sacred  must  that  sacrifice  be  which  was  offered  by  the  Holy  Creator 
Himself !  then,  certainly,  the  danger  of  trifling  with  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment must  be  proportionably  awful ;  for,  as  the  benefits  of  worthily 
receiving  are  great,  so,  also,  the  criminality  of  accounting  the  sacrifice  of 
the  Son  of  God  as  an  unholy  or  light  matter,  must  be  immeasurably 
horrible." 

The  text  chosen  by  this  gentleman  is  the  same  which  I  have  chosen, 
1  Cor.  X.  14. 


REVEREND   A.   A.    LAMBING. 


,  Reverend  A.  A.  Lambing,  of  St.  James'  Church,  Wilkinsburg,  Penn., 
author  of  "  Plain  Sermons  on  Mixed  Marriages,"  and  **  Mixed  Marriages  : 
Their  Origin  and  their  Results,"  has  furnished  most  interesting  reading 
matter  on  a  very  important  subject  for  family  consideration. 


(717) 


^et  ms  ^v^vf  S'5^0etl'^««- 


PRACTICAL   VIEW   OF  MIXED  MARRIAGES. 

"  With  desolation  is  all  the  land  made  desolate,  because  there  is  none  that  consider- 
eth  in  the  heart." — jer.  xii.  ii. 

HEN  Moses  was  about  to  die,  and  saw  with  prophetic  eyes  how 
the  people  of  whom  he  had  so  long  been  the  leader  would  fall 
away  from  God,  he  endeavored  by  the  most  touching  dis- 
courses to  impress  upon  their  minds  the  advantages  they  pos- 
sessed in  being  the  chosen  inheritance  of  the  Most  High.  Adverting  to 
the  beauty  and  expressiveness  of  their  religious  ceremonies,  which  he  had 
established  by  the  divine  command,  he  exclaimed :  **  What  other  nation 
is  there  so  renowned  that  hath  ceremonies  and  just  judgments,  and  all 
the  law,  which  I  will  set  forth  this  day  before  your  eyes?  "  (Deut.  iv.  8). 
Man  being  composed  not  only  of  an  immortal  soul,  but  also  of  a  body 
endowed  with  senses  which  receive  impressions  from  external  objects, 
the  Church  has  taken  advantage  of  this,  and  has  adopted  such  ceremonies 
as  a^e  calculated  both  to  signify  the  graces  she  imparts,  and  to  prepare 
the  mind  and  heart  to  receive  them.  Witness  the  ceremonies  of  marriage 
and  the  nuptial  Mass.  What  could  be  a  more  fitting  commencement  of 
that  holy  state  of  life  into  which  the  couple  then  enter?  How  sadly  dif- 
ferent, how  dead  in  comparison,  are  the  ceremonies,  or  rather  the  absence 
of  all  ceremonies,  in  mixed  marriage!  Yet,  if  it  is  entered  into  without 
the  expressive  rites  and  celestial  blessings  of  religion,  both  reason  and 
experience  teach  that  it  cannot  be  expected  to  continue  happily.  Hence 
I  shall  show  you  that  mixed  marriages  are  condemned  and  declared  un- 
happy,— 

/.  By  the  marriage  ceremony  of  the  Church; 
If.  By  reason ;  and 
III.  By  experience. 

I.  By  the  marriage  ceremony  of  the  Church. 

The  Sacred  Scripture  presents  us  with  a  most  simple  and  beautiful 
marriage  ceremony  in  the  union  of  the  young  Tobias  and  Sara.  Reguel, 
"  taking  the  right  hand  of  his  daughter,  gave  it  into  the  right  hand  of 
Tobias,  saying :  The  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God 

(719) 


720  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

of  Jacob  be  with  you,  and  may  He  join  you  together,  and  fulfil  His  bless- 
ing in  you"  (Tob.  vii.  15).  But  the  New  Law  being  the  reality  of  that 
of  which  the  Old  was  but  the  shadow,  the  marriage  ceremony  in  it  is  yet 
more  beautiful  and  expressive.  Let  us  briefly  consider  the  manner  of 
this  union  in  the  Church.  After  using  their  own  judgment,  consulting 
their  parents,  and  pouring  forth  fervent  and  persevering  prayer  to  God 
that  the  light  of  His  grace  may  direct  them,  a  young  man  and  woman 
agree  to  marry  each  other.  It  is  not  by  stealth  they  proceed,  as  if  they 
were  ashamed  of  the  Sacrament  they  are  about  to  receive ;  they  do  not 
regard  as  unholy  the  state  of  life  which  God  Himself  has  blessed,  nor  do 
they  make  light  of  the  laws  and  usages  of  the  Church ;  but  being  anxious 
to  be  united  with  the  blessing  of  God,  they  willingly  do  all  in  their  power 
to  secure  it.  I  am  not  ignorant  that  there  are  Catholics  to  be  found  who 
would  willingly  set  aside  the  ceremonies  and  blessing  of  religion,  and 
imitate  those  who  are  separated  from  the  true  Church;  but  I  speak  of , 
those  only  who  are  desirous  of  receiving  the  Sacrament  of  Matrimony 
"  as  it  is  in  Christ  and  in  the  Church."  The  banns  are  proclaimed,  and 
when  the  day  has  arrived,  having  made  a  good  confession,  the  couple  ap- 
pear in  the  church  accompanied  by  their  parents.  The  priest,  vested  as 
the  Ritual  prescribes,  advances  to  the  altar  railing,  where  the  couple  pre- 
sent themselves  before  the  altar  of  God,  to  be  united  in  His  holy  presence 
and  under  His  special  protection.  The  ring;  the  emblem  of  their  mutual 
fidelity,  is  blessed,  the  adorable  Sacrifice  of  the  Altar  is  celebrated  for 
them,  a  special  benediction  is  pronounced  upon  them,  they  again  ap- 
proach the  railing,  and  having  been  united  to  each  other,  they  are  now 
united  to  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Holy  Communion.  They  return  to  their 
homes,  accompanied  not  only  by  their  parents  and  friends,  but,  like  the 
young  Tobias  and  Sara,  by  the  angel  of  God.  Well  may  we  exclaim  with 
TertulHan  :  "  Who  can  express  the  happiness  of  that  marriage  which  the 
Church  approves,  which  the  Sacrifices  of  the  Mass  confirm,  and  which 
blessing  seals?  angels  announce  it,  and  the  Father  ratifies  it !  " 

How  different,  alas,  is  the  marriage  of  a  Catholic  with  one  who  is  not 
of  the  fold  of  Christ !  It  is  frequently  brought  about  by  stealth,  and 
always  contrary  to  the  will  of  God  and  His  Church,  and  of  good  parents. 
It  often  takes  place  without  the  requisite  dispensation,  sometimes  before 
a  civil  magistrate,  and  occasionally  even  before  an  heretical  minister,  add- 
ing sacrilege  and  excommunication  to  rebellion.  But  granting  that,  with 
the  exception  of  its  being  a  mixed  marriage,  the  couple  wish  to  conform 
as  far  as  possible  to  the  requirements  of  religion,  how  sad  is  the  cere- 
mony !  The  banns  are  not  proclaimed,  from  fear  that  it  might  be  thought 
the  Church  countenanced  such  a  marriage;  the  ceremony  does  not  take 
place  in  the  church  before  the  altar  of  God,  for  they  have  disregarded  His 


FATHER  LAMBING.  721 

known  will ;  nor  even  in  the  sacristy,  for  that  too  is  holy  ground  ;  no  light 
burns  as  an  emblem  of  their  faith  and  love,  their  faith,  alas,  burns  too 
faintly  and  their  love  is  sensual ;  and  no  sacred  vestment  is  worn  by  the 
priest,  but  he  goes  to  the  room  where  the  marriage  is  to  take  place  as  he 
would  go  to  transact  any  secular  business.  He  stands  before  the  un- 
happy couple  merely  as  a  witness,  for  he  says  no  prayer,  makes  no  sign 
of  the  cross,  sprinkles  not  a  drop  of  holy  water,  does  nothing,  in  a  word, 
for  he  is  strictly  forbidden,  that  would  savor  in  the  least  of  religion. 
What  could  make  a  sadder  impression  on  the  mind  of  a  child  of  God  ?  A 
Christian  burial  service  is  more  consoling,  for  there  the  Church  bids  adieu 
to  the  body  of  one  of  her  children,  and  that  only  for  a  time ;  here  she  too 
often  bids  farewell  to  the  soul  for  all  eternity.  And  happy  would  it  be 
for  many  a  Catholic  if  it  had  been  his  funeral  instead  of  his  wedding  day ; 
for  then  he  would  have  to  answer  for  but  one  soul,  now  many  souls  may 
rise  up  in  judgment  against  him. 

//.  By  reason. 

Unaided  reason  also  teaches  that  a  union  entered  into  without  the 
blessing  of  a  common  religion  cannot  prove  happy.  Let  us  suppose  the 
case,  perhaps  the  most  common,  in  which  the  wife  is  the  Catholic.  She 
must  tread  the  narrow  path  that  leads  to  life  everlasting,  must  hear  Mass, 
receive  the  Sacraments,  observe  the  days  of  fast  and  abstinence,  pray 
dailv ;  in  a  word,  she  must  obey,  under  the  penalty  of  eternal  damnation, 
laws  which  she  sees  daily  trodden  under  foot  by  him  whom  she  has  vowed 
to  love,  by  him  who  should  be  one  with  herself.  Let  the  husband  be 
ever  so  well-disposed,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  feelings  of  his  wife ;  he 
treads  one  path,  she  another ;  he  regards  as  superstition  what  she  holds 
dearer  than  life ;  he  thinks  little  of  eternity,  in  it  she  has  placed  all  her 
hopes.  Do  what  they  will,  there  can  be  no  real  union  of  hearts,  no  har- 
mony of  sentiments,  because  there  is  no  faith.  They  remain  as  before 
marriage, — not  one,  but  two. 

But  if  the  husband  is  an  enemy  of  our  holy  faith,  if  he  ridicules  it,  if 
he  forbids  his  wife  to  ^o  to  church  and  practice  her  other  religious  duties 
I  at  home,  she  will  soon  be  a  stranger  to  all  happiness,  and  may  well  long 
for  the  day  when  death  will  set  her  free  from  that  worse  than  Egyptian 
bondage.  And  when  the  dread  hour  of  death  itself  draws  near  and  all 
human  aid  and  comfort  are  of  no  avail,  the  consolations  of  religion  and 
the  presence  of  the  minister  of  God  may  be  denied  by  the  heartless 
husband ;  and  he  may  add  reflections  to  his  refusal  that  will  render  it 
doubly  painful.  Yet  he  is  her  lord,  and  she  has  vowed  to  love  him. 
Oh,  that  an  angel  would  come  down  from  heaven  and  warn  all  who  con- 
template a  mixed  marriage  of  the  misery  for  time  and  eternity  to  which 


722  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

they  expose  themselves.  But  they  have  the  word  of  God  and  His 
Church ;  if  they  will  not  obey  them,  neither  would  they  obey  the  voice 
of  an  angel.  Where  there  is  such  difference  of  sentiment  and  such  oppo- 
sition in  the  all-important  affair  of  religion,  there  can  be  no  real  harmony 
in  matters  of  minor  moment.  The  Catholic  in  such  a  union  must  neces- 
sarily lead  an  unhappy  life,  or  purchase  a  trifling  temporal  happiness  by 
the  sacrifice  of  that  which  is  eternal. 

With  the  Protestant  we  have  nothing  to  do ;  yet  he  cannot  be  happy. 
He  cannot  believe,  and  think,  and  feel,  and  act  in  harmony  with  his  wife ; 
and  where  there  is  no  union  of  hearts  the  very  foundation  of  all  true  hap- 
piness is  wanting  and  it  cannot  exist. 

But  who  can  picture  the  evil  effects  produced  in  the  minds  of  the 
children  of  a  mixed  marriage  ?  Unfortunate  as  the  case  is  with  the  mis- 
guided Catholic  herself,  it  is  an  evil  of  her  own  choice.  But  with  the 
children  it  is  not  so.  Of  what  crime  were  they  guilty  that  they  should 
be  condemned  by  an  unnatural  parent,  even  before  their  birth,  to  a  life 
of  almost  certain  infidelity,  and  should  have  even  their  eternal  salvation 
endangered  by  one  who  was  influenced  by  self-will  or  sensuality  rather 
than  by  the  fear  of  God  and  the  love  of  religion  ?  The  contemplation  of 
such  an  injustice,  such  an  outrage,  is  enough  to  make  angels  weep.  Or 
what  shall  we  say  of  the  inhuman  conduct,  condemned  alike  by  reason 
and  religion,  of  those  who  agree  to  allow  the  boys  to  be  raised  in  the 
religion  of  the  father  and  the  girls  in  that  of  their  mother?  But,  grant- 
ing that  the  children  are  trained  as  Catholics,  their  attachment  to"  the 
faith  is  not,  and  cannot  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  so  firm  as  if  both 
parents  were  of  the  true  faith.  If  both  parents  are  zealous  for  their 
respective  systems  of  religion,  there  must  frequently  be  disedifying  con- 
tentions and  disputes.  If  either  is  indifferent,  the  children  must  neces- 
sarily conclude  that  religion  is,  after  all,  a  matter  of  small  importance.  If 
the  Protestant  favors  the  Catholic  training  of  the  children,  they  must  yet 
conclude  that  religion  cannot  be  what  he  would  fain  have  them  believe, 
else  why  does  not  he,  a  man  of  mature  years  and  judgment,  embrace  it 
himself?  If  it  is  not  worth  his  care  and  attention,  why  should  it  be  worth 
theirs?  It  is  utterly  impossible  that  the  children  of  a  mixed  marriage 
should  adequately  value  religion  and  appreciate  its  obligations ;  for  dur- 
ing the  most  plastic  period  of  their  lives  all  their  associations  are  of  such 
a  character  as  to  prevent  these  impressions  from  fixing  themselves  on 
their  minds. 

///.     By  experience. 

It  frequently  happens  that  people  become  excited  or  permit  their 
judgment  to  be  biased  in  the  discussion  of  disorders  for  which  they  have 


FATHER  LAMBING.  723 

a  strong  antipathy,  and  their  language  is  apt  in  consequence  to  be  exag- 
gerated. Well  would  it  be  for  the  Church  and  the  world  if  such  were 
the  case  in  regard  to  mixed  marriages.  But  it  is  not  so.  The  conclu- 
sions of  reason  are  too  amply  borne  out  by  the  lessons  of  experience. 
What  is  the  condition  of  Catholics  married  to  non-Catholics  as  we  see  it 
in  the  world  around  us  ?  Take  the  most  favorable  instance,  that  in  which 
the  husband  favors  the  wife  as  much  as  possible  in  the  practice  of  her 
religion.  Not  supported  by  his  example,  §he  either  goes  on  without 
sympathy,  or  gradually  falls  away  from  the  fulfilment  of  her  religious 
duties;  and  it  may  safely  be  said  of  perhaps  the  greater  number  of 
.mixed  marriages,  that,  as  the  blame  was  with  the  Catholic  in  the  begin- 
ning, it  usually  remains  with  her  through  life.  She  is  bound  by  a  solemn 
promise — which  was  formerly  required  to  be  confirmed  by  an  oath  upon 
the  holy  Gospel — to  do  all  in  her  power  to  reclaim  her  husband  from  his 
errors ;  but  instead  of  doing  so,  does  she  not  too  often  rather  confirm 
him  in  them  by  neglecting  the  practice  of  her  own  most  sacred  duties  ? 
How  many  Protestant  husbands  would,  in  all  human  probability,  become 
Catholics  if  their  wives  were  exemplary !  But  no ;  lukewarm  at  first, 
such  unfortunate  Catholics  drop  every  duty  imposed  by  their  religion,  till 
in  the  end  they  become  practical  infidels,  and  we  hear  nothing  of  them 
until  the  priest  is  hurriedly  sent  for,  if  that  last  grace  is  vouchsafed  them, 
to  attend  them  in  their  dying  hour. 

But  let  us  go  a  step  further  and  take  the  case,  by  no  means  uncom- 
mon, in  which  the  Protestant  husband  opposes  the  wife  in  the  practice  of 
her  religion.  What  can  she  do?  She  cannot  pray  as  she  would  ;  she 
cannot  hear  Mass  except  rarely  and  by  stealth ;  she  cannot  receive  her 
Easter  Communion  ;  she  cannot  assist  at  those  special  devotions  from 
which  she  might  draw  so  much  grace  and  consolation ;  she  cannot  have 
her  children  publicly  baptized ;  she  can  do  nothing,  in  a  word,  to  show 
that  she  is  a  Catholic  ;  and  if  she  ventures  to  do  so  by  stealth,  it  will  only 
be  made  the  occasion  of  further  persecution.  The  husband  is  obliged 
solemnly  to  promise  before  marriage  that  he  will  allow  his  wife  perfect 
liberty  in  the  practice  of  her  religion,  and  that  he  will  permit  all  the 
children  born  of  the  marriage  to  be  baptized  and  raised  in  the  Catholic 
Church.  But  will  he  keep  his  promises?  Experience  teaches  that  he 
will  not,  if  interest,  his  own  perverse  disposition,  the  influence  of  Prot- 
estant friends,  or  the  commands  of  secret  societies  to  which  he  may 
belong,  prompt  or  require  him  to  break  them.  Listen  to  the  following 
incident  which  to  my  certain  knowledge  took  place  in  one  of  our  large 
cities.  A  Protestant  man  and  a  Catholic  woman  came  to  the  house  of  a 
priest  one  evening  to  be  married.  Both  made  the  solemn  promises  re- 
quired of  them,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed,  and  they  departed. 


724  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

But  as  they  walked  out  arm  in  arm  past  the  church  the  man  remarked  to 
his  wife :  "  My  dear,  this  is  as  near  a  Catholic  church  as  you  will  be  for 
some  time."  But  it  was  too  late ;  the  knot  was  tied,  and  she  must  hence- 
forth be  his  slave  in  soul  and  body  till  death,  and  even  in  death  he  may 
not  relent.  How  many  such  instances  might  be  found  !  And  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  the  civil  law  does  not  recognize  the  binding  force 
of  promises  made  before  marriage ;  it  even  declares  that  the  husband 
cannot  bind  himself  by  such  a  promise. 

But  what  becomes  of  the  children  of  such  a  marriage  ?  We  have 
seen  that  even  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances  they  cannot  have 
a  firm  attachment  to  their  religion.  They  are  commonly  but  indifferently, 
instructed,  they  frequently  associate  with  Protestants  or  infidels,  are  gen- 
erally sent  to  the  public  schools,  read  un-Catholic  literature,  and  in  the 
end  lose  their  faith  or  marry  out  of  the  Church.  How  seldom  do  the 
children  of  a  mixed  marriage  become  and  continue  through  life  good 
practical  Catholics!  How  often  do  we  find  them  without  baptism  ;  how 
often  do  we  see  them  raised  Protestants,  and  taught  to  ridicule  the  re- 
ligion of  their  Catholic  parent.  Well  may  the  words  of  our  Divine 
Redeemer  be  applied  to  mixed  marriages :  "  Ever}'  kingdom  divided 
against  itself  shall  be  brought  to  desolation"  (Luke  xi.  17).  The  statis- 
tics of  mixed  marriages  will  show  the  awful  responsibility  of  those  who 
contract  such  unholy  alliances.  And  if  the  consequences  are  so  dire  for 
the  children  when  the  mother  is  the  Catholic,  and  can  mould  their  young 
minds  during  her  hours  of  intercourse  with  them  in  spite  of  the  efforts 
of  the  father,  what  must  it  be  when  the  mother  is  the  non-Catholic,  and 
can  readily  undo  the  good  that  her  husband  might  try  to  effect  during 
the  short  time  that  he  is  with  them  ? 

But  you  should  also  bear  in  mind  that  the  evil  of  a  mixed  marriage 
does  not  end  with  the  death  of  the  misguided  Catholic.  It  may  go  oYi 
to  the  end  of  time,  and  souls  may  be  multiplied  by  hundreds  that  will 
never  see  God,  but  that  will  trace  their  life  of  infidelity  and  their  eternal 
estrangement  from  Him  to  the  disobedience  of  one  and  her  disregard  of 
the  salutary  restraints  of  religion.  Before  the  dread  tribunal  of  her  in- 
exorable Judge  she  will  learn,  alas!  too  late,  the  force  of  the  divine 
menace :  "  Thy  own  wickedness  shall  reprove  thee  and  thy  apostasy  shall 
rebuke  thee.  Know  thou  and  see  that  it  is  an  evil  and  a  bitter  thing  for 
thee  to  have  left  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  that  my  fear  is  not  with  thee  " 
(Jer.  ii.  19). 

In  conclusion,  let  me  urge  upon  you  by  every  consideration  to  reflect 
on  the  probable  consequences  of  whatever  you  propose  to  yourselves 
before  you  act.  And  in  the  all-important  affairs  of  choosing  a  partner 
for  life,  do  not  act  with  precipitation.     A  step  once  taken  there  cannot 


FATHER  LAMBING. 


725 


Idc  retraced.  When  you  are  married  once  you  are  married  for  life.  The 
Protestant  whom  you  marry  only  lends  himself  to  you  during  his  good 
pleasure,  and  may  seek  a  divorce  when  he  grows  tired  of  you  ;  and  his 
religious  principles  teach  him  to  recognize  its  efficacy.  But  it  is  not  so 
with  you ;  you  have  been  taught  that  marriage  is  a  Sacrament  which 
binds  the  husband  and  wife  to  each  other  until  death.  Do  not  persuade 
yourself  that  you  can  stand  amid  temptations  in  which  thousands  of 
others  have  fallen.  Remember  the  awful  lesson  which  the  example  of 
King  Solomon  teaches  you.  But  there  is  still  another  consideration. 
Remember  that  it  is  through  marriage  God  has  willed  that  children 
should  be  born  into  the  world,  and  that  parents  are  responsible  for  the 
training  of  their  children.  If  you  marry  out  of  the  Church  you  will 
have  to  answer  to  God  for  the  children  He  may  give  you,  and  though  it 
will  be  hard  to  answer  for  your  own  soul,  it  will  be  tenfold  harder  to 
answer  for  theirs.  Resolve,  then,  while  you  are  yet  free,  not  to  disre- 
gard the  will  of  God,  not  to  violate  the  laws  of  the  Church,  not  to  act 
contrary  to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  the  lessons  of  experience,  and  not 
to  destroy  your  own  happiness  here  and  endanger  your  salvation  for 
eternity  by  a  mixed  marriage.  On  the  contrary,  in  this,  as  in  all  else, 
•"  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice  "  (Matt.  vi.  33).    Amen. 


THE  DUTIES  OF  YOUNG  PERSONS  IN  RELATION 
TO  MIXED  MARRIAGES. 

"  It  is  good  for  a  man  when  he  hath  borne  the  yoke  from  his  youth." — Lam.  iii.  27. 

UR  Divine  Redeemer,  in  order  to  warn  His  followers  against  un- 
due anxiety  in  seeking  the  things  of  this  world,  and  prevent  them 
from  forgetting  their  last  end  even  while  procuring  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  gave  them  this  brief  but  adequate  rule  for  their 
guidance :  "  Seek  ye  therefore  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice, 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you  "  (Matt.  vi.  33).  Now,  if 
a  God  of  infinite  wisdom  deemed  it  expedient  to  warn  His  followers 
against  those  things  "  which  the  heathens  seek,"  in  matters  that  were 
necessary  for  their  subsistence,  much  more  should  His  words  be  the  guide 
for  Christians  in  the  choice  of  a  partner  for  life,  where  passion  or  caprice 
is  too  apt  to  bia.s  and  control  the  judgment. 

In  the  previous  discourse  we  considered  the  evil  of  mixed  marriages 
and  some  of  the  sources  from  which  they  take  their  rise.  The  necessity 
of  discovering  a  remedy  and  applying  it  must  be  patent  to  every  one  who 
has  the  honor  and  glory  of  God,  'the  prosperity  of  the  Church,  the  happi- 
ness of  the  Christian  family,  and  the  salvation  of  souls  at  heart.  But 
since  God  has  both  endowed  us  with  reason  and  supplied  us  with  super- 
natural grace,  it  becomes  our  duty  to  use  both  the  one  and  the  other  in 
doing  good  and  avoiding  evil.  In  the  present  discourse  I  shall  point  out 
to  you  some  of  the  most  powerful  means  by  which  young  persons  may 
be  preserved  by  the  use  of  these  gifts  from  a  mixed  marriage,  that  fatal 
step  which  draws  so  many  evil  consequences  after  it.  And  first  among 
these  must  be  reckoned, — 

/.  Respect  for  the  authority  of  the  Church  and  obedietice  to  her  laws. 

It  is  the  privilege  of  every  human  society  or  organization  to  make 
laws  for  the  government  of  its  members,  and  to  require  the  observance 
of  them  by  all  who  wish  to  partake  of  its  benefits ;  and  those  who  do 
not  wish  to  obey  the  laws  are  at  liberty  to  withdraw  and  enjoy  their 
freedom.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  Church.  It  is  not  a  human  organ- 
ization. Our  Divine  Redeemer  in  commissioning  His  Apostles  to  preach 
the  Gospel  and  to  spread  the  Church  throughout  the  world,  not  only 
(726) 


FATHER  LAMBING.  727 

gave  them  power  and  authority  to  make  laws  for  the  government  of  His 
mystic  body,  but  also  assured  them  that  from  His  high  throne  of  glory  in 
heaven  He  would  sanction  their  legislation.  To  the  Prince  of  Apostles 
He  said  :  "  Whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind  upon  earth,  it  shall  be  bound  also 
in  heaven  "  (Matt.  xvi.  19).  All  the  laws  of  the  Church  impose  a  strict 
obligation  binding  in  conscience  upon  all  Christians  to  whom  they  are 
applicable.  The  Catholic  cannot  with  impunity  disregard  the  laws  of  the 
Church,  nor  despise  the  authority  of  Him  who  enacts  them ;  for,  "  If  he 
will  not  hear  the  Church,  let  him  be  to  thee  as  the  heathen  and  the  pub- 
lican "  (Matt.  xvi.  17),  and  "he  that  heareth  you,"  says  Christ  to  the 
teaching  Church,  "  heareth  me ;  and  he  that  despiseth  you,  despiseth 
me  "  (Luke  x.  17).  Nor  is  the  Catholic  permitted  to  withdraw  from  the 
Church  as  he  might  from  a  human  organization  ;  for  he  is  commanded 
under  penalty  of  eternal  damnation  to  serve  God  faithfully,  and  it  is  only 
as  a  loyal  member  of  the  Church  that  he  is  enabled  to  fulfil  that  divine 
command. 

Were  you.  Christian  youth,  but  filled  with  due  respect  for  the  laws  of 
our  holy  mother  the  Church,  and  disposed  to  sacrifice  everything  rather 
than  violate  her  sacred  precepts ;  were  you  imbued  with  the  real  Catholic 
spirit,  which  made  the  saints  not  only  obedient  to  the  Church,  but  also 
enthusiastic  in  all  that  related  to  her  well-being,  who  rejoiced  in  her  tri- 
umphs and  wept  at  her  reverses,  what  a  powerful  remedy  would  be  applied 
to  the  evil  of  mixed  marriages  !  Accustomed  to  think  and  act  as  Cath- 
olics, to  regard  all  things  from  God's  point  of  view,  to  look  upon  the  Sac- 
rament of  Matrimony  "  as  it  is  in  Christ  and  in  the  Church,"  you  would 
never  permit  yourselves  to  be  entangled  in  friendship  that  could  in  any 
way  lead  you  to  offend  God,  to  violate  the  laws  or  disregard  the  wishes 
of  His  Church,  or  to  endanger  your  eternal  salvation  or  the  salvation  of 
others  yet  unborn,  by  contracting  a  mixed  marriage. 

//.  The  frequent  reception  of  the  Sacraments  of  Penance  and  the  Blessed 
Eucharist. 

But  while  the  laws  of  the  Church  impose  obligations  upon  her  chil- 
dren, the  Sacraments  supply  them  with  grace  to  enable  them  to  fulfil 
those  obligations.  The  prophecy  of  Isaias  is  here  fulfilled  :  "  You  shall 
draw  waters  with  joy  out  of  the  Saviour's  fountains  "  (Is.  xii.  3).  How 
admirably  the  Sacrament  of  Penance  is  calculated  not  only  to  free  the 
penitent  soul  from  the  guilt  of  sin  and  impart  the  grace  necessary  to 
resist  future  temptations,  but  also  to  teach  man  to  know  himself,  to  know 
his  passions  and  evil  inclinations,  the  strong  and  the  weak  points  in  his 
character  and  the  occasions  of  his  sins,  the  danger  he  may  be  in  of  con- 
tracting sinful  habits  or  dangerous  intimacies,  and  all  that  may  be  useful 


728  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

to  him  to  avoid  sin  and  practice  virtue.  There  is  no  teacher  like  a  good 
conscience  when  carefully  examined.  The  instruction  and  advice  a  young 
person  receives  in  the  sacred  tribunal  add  to  all  this  the  wisdom  of  a 
learned  and  experienced  director.  Guided  by  these,  if  you  submit  with 
docility,  it  will  be  impossible  for  you  to  wander  far  from  the  path  of  vir- 
tue, much  less  to  associate  yourself  in  the  intimate  relationship  of  mar- 
riage with  one  not  of  the  fo\(d  of  Christ. 

By  means  of  the  Holy  Communion  you  are  intimately  united  to  Jesus 
Christ,  the  supernatural  life  of  grace  is  preserved  in  your  soul,  your 
thoughts  and  desires  are  elevated  and  purified,  your  good  resolutions 
receive  new  strength,  and  you  are  removed  further  and  further  from  the 
danger  of  any  false  or  perilous  step  in  life.  To  those  who  receive  the 
Sacraments  frequently  and  worthily  so  hateful  a  deformity  as  a  mixed 
marriage  is  morally  impossible ;  for  they  live  in  Christ,  and  He  in  them. 

///.  Avoid  all  ultimate  association,  especially  company-keeping,  with 
non-Catholics, 

'  While  those  who  receive  the  Sacraments  frequently  and  worthily  are 
strengthened  in  their  union  with  God  and  their  resolution  to  sacrifice 
everything  rather  than  forfeit  His  friendship,  those  who  withdraw  them- 
selves from  these  fountains  of  grace  and  strength,  find  their  passions 
and  evil  inclinations  daily  growing  stronger  and  becoming  more  impe- 
rious. The  spirit  of  evil,  who,  "  as  a  roaring  lion,  goeth  about  seeking 
whom  he  may  devour"  (i  Pet.  v.  8),  and  who  never  loses  an  opportunity 
of  laboring  for  the  ruin  of  souls,  frequently  leads  those  who  are  weak 
into  intimate  association  with  persons  not  of  the  true  Church,  and  in 
the  end  induces  them  to  keep  company,  which  is  rarely  free  from 
danger,  even  among  good  people,  and  which  in  their  case  sometimes 
leads  to  dishonor  and  often  to  a  mixed  marriage  and  all  the  evils  which  it 
entails. 

Young  persons  should  be  equally  on  their  guard  against  judging  by 
appearances.  The  young  man  who  dresses  most  fashionably,  and  who 
most  willingly  spends  his  money  in  taking  young  ladies  to  balls,  picnics, 
and  other  places  of  amusement,  will  not  for  that  reason  make  the  best 
husband.  On  the  contrary  he  shows  rather  a  disposition  to  spend  life  in 
idleness  and  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  than  in  useful  labor  or  devotion  to 
the  duties  of  an  honorable  profession.  Judge  a  young  man  by  his  careful 
performance  of  the  duties  of  religion  and  his  state  of  life,  his  industry, 
his  self-respect,  his  economy,  his  love  of  his  parents,  his  avoiding  evil 
associations,  drinking  and  gambling ;  in  a  word,  learn  to  esteem  him  for 
what  will  make  him  a  useful  man,  not  what  will  make  him  an  ornamental 
fop. 


FATHER  LAMBING.  729 

And  you,  young  men,  learn  to  judge  young  ladies  in  the  same  man- 
ner. Remember  that,  as  the  Scriptures  teach  :  **  Houses  and  'riches  are 
given  by  parents ;  but  a  prudent  wife  is  properly  from  the  Lord  "  (Prdv. 
xix.  14).  It  is  necessary  for  you  to  think  seriously  before  taking  the  irrev- 
ocable step  of  entering  into  the  married  state.  Value  persons  by  those 
qualities  of  soul,  mind,  and  body  which  make  them  really  worth  having ; 
for  there  are  many  in  our  day  that  are  not  worth  having.  The  one  who 
lives  idly  at  home,  or  who  spends  all  her  earnings  in  striving  to  keep  up 
•with  the  fashions,  who  is  most  willing  to  help  you  spend  your  m.oney  in 
amusements,  who  will  neglect  her  religious  duties  for  the  sake  of  a  ball,  a 
picnic,  or  an  excursion,  who  is  wanting  in  self-respect,  who  disregards  the 
authority  of  her  parents, — and  this  is  a  very  important  point, — who  is 
remiss  in  approaching  the  Sacraments,  who  is  coquettish,  and  loves  the 
praise  of  the  giddy  throng  rather  than  the  approval  of  a  good  conscience, 
will  not  make  a  fit  wife  for  a  sensible  Christian.  Nor  should  you  be  too 
much  influenced  by  the  attractions  of  personal  beauty.  Nothing  is  more 
fleeting,  and  it  is  never  an  evidence  of  a  good  heart  or  a  sensible  mind. 
Remember  the  words  of  the  Holy  Spirit:  "  Favor  is  deceitful  and  beauty 
is  vain ;  the  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord,  she  shall  be  praised  "  (Prov. 
xxi.  30). 

Be  also  on  your  guard  against  being  allured  and  ensnared  by  those 
advantages  which  many  Protestants  seem  to  possess  over  Catholics  from 
a  worldly  point  of  view.  Let  the  good  pleasure  of  God  be  your  guide  in 
all  things,  but  especially  in  the  choice  of  a  partner  for  life ;  and  do  not 
forget  the  advice  of  the  elder  Tobias  to  his  son :  "  Bless  the  Lord  at  all 
times  ;  and  desire  of  Him  to  direct  thy  ways,  and  that  all  thy  counsels 
may  abide  in  Him  "  (Tob.  iv.  50).  Do  not  forget  that  in  forming  intima- 
cies the  passions  are  strong  and  the  will  is  weak,  and  a  step  once  taken  in 
marriage  cannot  be  retraced.  Beware  then  of  forming  friendships  that 
may  ripen  in  time  into  a  mixed  marriage,  and  involve  you  in  a  life  of  mis- 
ery and  an  eternity  of  woe.  There  is  nothing  I  would  urge  upon  you 
more  strongly  when  contemplating  a  change  of  life  than  this. 

IV.  Serious  reflection. 

The  Prophet  Jeremias,  lamenting  the  evils  that  had  come  upon  the 
city  of  Jerusalem  on  account  of  the  sins  of  the  people,  and  recognizing 
the  true  cause  of  them,  cried  out :  "  With  desolation  is  all  the  land  made 
desolate,  because  there  is  none  that  considereth  in  the  heart "  (Jer.  xii. 
1 1).  Almighty  God  has  endowed  man  with  reason  that  he  might  act,  not 
]ike  inanimate  nature  from  a  law  of  necessity,  nor  like  irrational  animals 
from  instinct,  but  that  by  reflection  he  might  propose  to  himself  ends 
worthy  of  a  child  of  God,  and  might  pursue  them  in  such  a  manner  as  to 


730  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

please  Him  whose  will  is  the  supreme  law,  and  thus  secure  his  present 
and  future  happiness.  And  experience  teaches  that  men  who  are  not 
wholly  the  slaves  of  passion  employ  their  reason  even  in  the  most  trivial 
affairs  of  life ;  and  no  greater  reproach  can  be  made  a  man  than  that  he 
acts  without  reason  or  contrary  to  it.  If  this  be  true,  and  no  one  will 
deny  it,  should  not  you,  young  men  and  young  women,  reflect  seriously  and 
employ  that  noble  faculty  to  the  limit  of  its  power  in  the  important  affair 
of  choosing  a  companion  for  life?  You  are  not  selecting  a  partner  to 
enter  into  business,  where  the  partnership  may  be  dissolved  if  it  does  not 
prove  lucrative  or  agreeable  ;  you  are  not  taking  a  person  into  the  family, 
who  may  be  discharged  if  he  does  not  give  satisfaction  ;  you  are  not  even 
entering  into  a  religious  order,  where  there  is  a  long  period  of  probation 
in  which  you  could  learn  whether  you  were  suited  for  the  order  or  the 
order  for  you,  and  in  which  you  would  have  the  aid  and  advice  of  a 
judicious  superior.  In  the  selection  of  a  partner  for  life  all  is  different. 
There  is  no  time  for  probation,  and  if  persons  who  contemplate  marriage 
associate  together  in  company-keeping  it  is  only  to  conceal  the  disagree- 
able traits  of  their  characters,  it  is  only  to  deceive ;  they  study  not  to  ap- 
pear what  they  are,  but  what  they  are  not.  Yet  the  union  of  husband 
and  wife  is  more  intimate  than  any  other  upon  earth,  for  Christ  Himself 
declares,  '*  they  are  not  two,  but  one  flesh  "  (Matt.  xix.  6).  Not  only  so, 
but  their  bond  of  union  is  for  life,  and  no  power  but  death  can  dissolve 
it ;  for  the  same  Christ  says  in  the  same  place :  "  What  God  hath  joined 
together  let  no  man  put  asunder."  Should  not  the  most  serious  reflection 
precede  and  direct^so  important,  so  irrevocable  a  choice  ?  And  if  any  in- 
compatibility of  temperament  or  disposition  were  discovered,  would  not 
the  same  reflection  show  how  imprudent  it  would  be  for  such  persons  to 
unite  themselves  together  for  life  ? 

But  it  is  not  only  for  the  happiness  and  well-being  of  themselves  that 
persons  contemplating  marriage  must  consult ;  they  should  also  remem- 
ber that  the  rearing  of  a  family  is  the  main  object  of  that  holy  state,  and 
that  their  own  happiness  must  be  intimately  connected  with  that  of  their 
children.  If  they  are  of  such  contrary  dispositions  as  are  likely  to  cause 
them  to  disagree  on  any  important  point,  it  will  be  impossible  for  them 
to  live  in  peace  and  harmony  together,  and  train  up  their  children  to  use- 
ful and  honorable  lives.  And  if  this  may  and  frequently  does  occur 
where  both  are  of  the  same  faith,  does  not  reason  teach  us  that  it  must 
be  a  necessary  consequence  where  the  husband  and  wife  differ  essentially 
on  what  all  thinking  minds  must  regard  as  the  most  important  affair  that 
could  engage  man's  attention  ?  Hence  it  follows  that  serious  reflection 
on  things  that  are  purely  temporal  must  prevent  mixed  marriages ;  how 
much  more  must  meditation  on  the  great  eternal  truths  of  religion  pre- 


FATHER  LAMBING.  73^ 

vent  them  ?    We  have  then  another  and  most  powerful  preventative  of 
mixed  marriages  in, — 

V.  Meditation  on  the  four  last  things. 

The  Holy  Spirit  says  in  the  Sacred  Scripture :  "  In  all  thy  works  re- 
member thy  last  end,  and  thou  shalt  never  sin  "  (Eccles.  vii.  40).  We  are 
not  the  creatures  of  to-day.  Our  life  upon  earth  is  indeed  aptly  com- 
pared to  a  shadow  that  passes  and  is  seen  no  more ;  but  that  is  the  life  of 
the  body ;  the  soul  never  tastes  death.  It  passes  indeed  from  this  world 
at  a  moment  hidden  from  its  knowledge,  and  goes  before  God,  for  "  it  is 
appointed  unto  all  men  once  to  die  "  (Heb.  ix.  27);  but  it  is  immortal, 
and  in  the  world  to  come  will  be  rewarded  or  punished  as  it  has  done 
good  or  evil  in  this  life,  for  "  God  will  render  to  every  man  according  to 
his  works "  (Matt.  xvi.  27).  To  the  Christian  who  firmly  believes,  how 
awful  are  the  words,  death,  judgment,  heaven,  hell !  To  die,  to  leave  the 
world  and  all  we  value  in  it,  to  bid  it  an  eternal  farewell,  and  that  at  a  mo- 
ment of  which  we  know  nothing,  and  go  before  God  with  all  the  good 
and  evil  deeds  of  this  life  upon  us, — what  reflection  could  be  better  cal- 
culated to  fill  us  with  fear  and  dread  ?  Terrible  as  is  this  thought,  it  is 
but  the  prelude  to  one,  if  it  were  possible,  infinitely  more  terrible,  for  the 
Apostle  adds:  "And  after  this,  the  judgment"  (Heb.  ix.  27).  Yes,  "we 
must  all  be  manifested  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ  that  every  one 
may  receive  the  proper  things  of  the  body,  according  as  he  hath  done, 
whether  it  be  good  or  evil "  (2  Cor.  v.  10).  We  must  all  go,  perhaps 
without  a  moment's  warning,  for  Christ  has  expressly  declared :  "  I  will 
come  to  thee  as  a  thief,  and  thou  shalt  not  know  at  what  hour  I  will 
come  to  thee  "  (Apoc.  iii.  3).  And  the  examination  to  which  the  soul 
will  be  subjected  under  the  all-searching  eye  of  God  will  be  such  that  the 
most  trivial  fault  will  not  pass  unnoticed,  becausp  "  every  idle  word  that 
men  shall  speak,  they  shall  render  an  account  for  it  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment "  (Matt.  xii.  36).  So  much  have  many  of  the  saints  dreaded  this 
final  scrutiny  that,  after  a  long  life  spent  in  the  practice  of  the  most  ex- 
alted virtue,  they  trembled  at  the  thought  of  appearing  before  God. 
King  David  cried  out  in  holy  fear:  "  In  Thy  sight  no  man  living  shall  be 
justified  "  (Ps.  cxlii.  2).  And  St.  Paul,  although  rapt  up  to  the  third 
heaven,  and  assured  by  a  special  revelation  that  an  eternal  crown  of 
glory  was  laid  up  for  him,  dreaded  the  account  he  would  have  to  give 
of  his  Hfe,  and  said:  "I  am  not  conscious  to  myself  of  anything,  yet  I 
am  not  thereby  justified ;  but  He  that  judgeth  me  is  the  Lord "  (i 
Cor.  iv.  4).  • 

But   hj)wever  well  the  thought  of  appearing  in  the  presence  of  an 
omniscient  Judge  is  calculated  to  fill  us  with  fear,  the  sentence  which 


Y32  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

follows  is  of  far  greater  consequence.  Our  Divine  Redeemer  Himself 
has  been  pleased  to  tell  us  what  the  sentence  of  the  good  will  be,  and 
what  that  of  the  wicked.  To  the  good  He  tells  us  He  will  say :  "  Come, 
ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  possess  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world."  Then  turning  to  the  wicked,  in  His  anger  He 
will  drive  them  from  Him  with  His  malediction  for  all  eternity  with  the 
words :  "  Depart  from  me,  you  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire  which  was  pre- 
pared for  the  devil  and  his  angels  "  (Matt.  xxv.  34  and  41).  How  in- 
finitely dissimilar  are  these  sentences !  Yet  one  of  them  will  be  pro- 
nounced upon  every  one  of  you.  Which  will  it  be  ?  Will  God  welcome 
you  into  the  realms  of  eternal  bliss,  or  will  He  condemn  you  forever  to 
the  fiery  prison  of  hell  ?  Whatever  your  sentence  will  be,  it  will  be 
eternal  and  irrevocable.  Oh,  my  young  Christians,  what  a  reflection ! 
Who  that  meditates  seriously  on  these  eternal  truths  could  endanger  his 
salvation  :  who  place  a  barrier  between  himself  and  heaven  ?  And  who, 
above  all,  could  unite  himself  to  an  enemy  of  God,  a  slave  of  Satan,  in 
the  intimate  union  which  marriage  implies  ?  Who  could  place  his  own 
salvation  in  jeopardy,  and  consent  to  become  the  parent  of  others  who 
would  probably  never  see  God  ?  Well  may  we  cry  out  in  the  words  of 
Moses  to  the  Jews :  "  Oh,  that  they  would  be  wise  and  would  understand, 
and  would  provide  for  their  last  end  "  (Deut.  xxxii.  29).  No,  a  mixed 
marriage  is  impossible  to  one  who  seriously  reflects  on  eternity. 

I  have  endeavored  to  place  before  your  minds  some  of  the  most 
weighty  considerations  that  should  withhold  you  from  contracting  a 
mixed  marriage.  Respect  the  authority  of  the  Church  and  obey  her 
laws.  "  Obey  your  prelates,  and  be  subject  to  them  ;  for  they  watch  as 
being  to  render  an  account  of  your  souls"  (Heb.  xii.  17).  Receive  the 
Sacraments  frequently,  for  by  that  means  you  will  not  only  be  strength- 
ened to  walk  in  the  way  of  God's  commandments,  but  you  will  also  im- 
bibe the  true  Catholic  spirit.  Avoid  too  intimate  an  association  with 
those  not  of  the  fold  of  Christ,  and  especially  company-keeping  with  them, 
and  the  enemy  of  your  souls  will  not  be  able  to  ensnare  you.  Reflect  seri- 
ously on  the  nature  of  marriage  and  the  conditions  necessary  to  insure 
true  and  lasting  happiness  in  it.  But,  above  all,  think  on  eternity.  The 
present  life  is  short,  but  eternity  is  without  end.  In  a  few  years  we  shall 
all  have  passed  from  the  busy  scenes  of  earth,  we  shall  all  have  appeared 
before  God,  and  shall  have  received  our  final  sentence  either  of  eternal 
happiness  or  of  endless  misery.  Let  us  then  be  truly  wise  and  engrave 
indelibly  on  our  minds  the  dread  words — death,  judgment,  heaven,  hell ; 
and  in  all  our  works  let  us  remember  our  last  end,  and  we  shall  never  sin. 
Amen. 


THE     DUTIES    OF    PARENTS    IN    RELATION     TO 
MIXED  MARRIAGES. 

"And  Isaac  called  Jacob,  and  blessed  him,  and  charged  him,  saying:  Take  not  a  wife 
of  the  stock  of  Chanaan." — Gen.  xxviii.  i. 

|T.  PAUL,  in  writing  to  the  Romans  and  enumerating  the  prin- 
cipal points  of  the  divine  law  for  their  instruction,  concludes 
with  the  words :  "  And  if  there  be  any  other  commandment,  it 
is  comprised  in  this  word :  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself "  (Rom.  xiii.  9).  Upon  no  precept  of  the  divine  law  does  our 
Saviour  so  strongly  insist  as  upon  that  of  fraternal  charity.  He  has  even 
made  it  the  distinctive  characteristic  of  His  followers.  "  By  this,"  He 
tells  them,  "shall  all  men  know  that  you  are  my  disciples,  if  you  have 
love  one  for  another"  (John  xiii.  35).  But  although  He  has  enjoined 
this  precept  so  strictly,  and  has  commanded  children  not  only  to  love, 
but,  much  more,  to  honor  their  parents,  He  has  not  explicitly  commanded 
parents  to  love  their  children.  Nor  need  we  wonder  at  this,  for  the  law 
of  nature  has  stamped  affection  for  children  so  deeply  on  the  hearts  of 
parents  that  it  is  impossible  for  them  not  to  love  them.  Even  in  the 
animal  creation  the  love  of  offspring  is  the  strongest  passion.  But  while 
parents  cannot  help  loving  their  children,  their  love  may  not  be,  and  in- 
deed in  many  cases  is  not,  properly  directed.  They  love,  but  not  always 
in  and  for  God.  Some  permit  the  temporal  well-being  of  their  children 
to  engross  their  whole  attention,  while  others  are  too  indifferent.  Some, 
again,  have  a  good  intention,  but  do  not  sufficiently  realize  that  their 
children  are  the  gift  of  God,  and  are  merely  lent  to  them,  as  it  were,  to 
be  trained  for  His  heavenly  kingdom.  It  is  not  enough  for  parents  to  do 
well,  their  efforts  must  also  be  directed  to  a  proper  end.  Should  they 
make  a  mistake,  it  is  frequently  too  late  when  discovered  for  them  to  cor- 
rect it,  or  to  ward  off  the  evil  consequences  of  it.  This  is  especially  true 
of  those  affections  which  sometimes  spring  up  between  Catholics  and 
non-Catholics,  and  which  too  often  ripen  into  mixed  marriages.  Hence 
the  importance  of  parents  paying  the  greatest  attention  to  this,  and 
adopting  such  measures  in  time  as  will  effectually  prevent  the  evil  of  a 
mixed  marriage  in  their  families.     To  aid  you  in  this  good  work  I  shall 

(733) 


V34  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

speak  to  you  to-day  on  the  duties  of  parents  in  relation  to  mixed  mar- 
riages.    The  principal  of  these  are, — 

/.  To  have  a  correct  idea  of  the  holiness  of  the  marriage  state,  and  to 
impress  it  deeply  on  the  minds  of  your  childreri  ; 

II.  Never  to  prefer  their  temporal  to  their  spiritual  welfare  ; 

III.  To  instruct  them  early,  and  ground  them  deeply  in  their  religion  ; 

IV.  To  guard  them  prudently  and  vigilajitly  against  contracting  too  in- 
timate an  acquaintance  with  non-Catholics ;  and, 

V.  To  pray  God  earnestly  and  perseveringly  to  guard  them  against  the 
evil  of  a  mixed  marriage. 

I.  To  have  a  correct  idea  of  the  holiness  of  the  marriage  state,  and  to 
impress  it  deeply  on  the  minds  of  your  children. 

No  subject  has  engaged  a  larger  share  of  the  solicitude  of  the  Church 
than  the  Sacrament  of  Matrimony,  because  in  nothing  else  are  the  pas- 
sions so  likely  to  usurp  the  place  of  reason  and  religion  in  the  direction 
of  young  persons.  Scarcely  does  a  Council  meet,  scarcely  does  a  bishop 
issue  a  pastoral  letter,  but  some  disciplinary  question  relating  to  Matri- 
mony enters  into  it.  Advice  is  given,  warnings  are  uttered,  or  abuses  are 
sought  to  be  corrected.  And  why  ?  Because,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
young  have  not  been  sufficiently  trained  to  control  their  passions  and 
subject  them  to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  religion ;  and,  on  the  other, 
they  have  not  been  taught  to  entertain  a  correct  idea  of  the  sanctity  of 
Christian  marriage.  While  nothing  could  be  further  from  the  mind  of 
the  Church  than  to  give  the  young  an  acquaintance  with  what  a  certain 
class  of  licentious  and  unprincipled  writers  would  seek  to  teach  them, 
and  which  would  only  tend  to  frustrate  the  lawful  ends  of  matrimony 
and  make  it  a  means  of  gratifying  the  sensual  appetite  with  impunity ; 
nothing  on  the  contrary  could  be  further  from  her  intention  than  to  see 
young  persons  rush  blindly  into  that  holy  state  without  a  knowledge  of 
its  sanctity,  the  obligations  it  imposes,  and  the  graces  with  which  it  is  en- 
riched. You  are  strictly  bound,  I  need  not  tell  you,  as  Christian  parents, 
to  conceal  from  your  children  much  that  relates  to  your  state  of  life ;  but 
at  the  same  time  there  is  much  that  prudence  and  a  sense  of  duty  requires 
you  to  acquaint  them  with,  although  not  until  they  are  approaching  the 
age  of  maturity  (Titus  ii.  4,  5).  Your  conduct  should  at  all  times  be  a 
lesson  impressing  upon  their  minds  your  sense  of  the  holiness  of  your 
state  of  life,  the  mutual  harmony  and  forbearance  that  should  exist  be- 
tween the  husband  and  wife,  and  the  example  they  should  be  to  each  other 
in  self-control,  in  charity,  and  in  the  exact  performance  of  the  duties  of 
religion  and  their  state  of  life.     The  silent  example  of  Christian  parents 


FATHER  LAMBING.  735 

is  the  most  salutary  lesson  they  can  impart  to  their  children  ;  and  when 
they  feel  it  a  duty  to  admonish  them,  as  they  will  from  time  to  time, 
their  words  will  carry  a  weight  with  them  that  will  have  its  effect.  Let 
them  engrave  on  the  minds  of  their  children  the  words  of  the  archangel 
Raphael  to  the  young  Tobias :  "  They  who  in  such  a  manner  received 
matrimony,  as  to  shut  out  God  from  themselves  and  from  their  mind, 
and  to  give  themselves  to  their  lust,  as  the  horse  and  mule,  which  have 
not  understanding,  over  them  the  devil  hath  power"  (Tob.  vi.  17).  A 
second  duty  is, — 

//.  Never  to  prefer  their  temporal  to  their  spiritual  welfare. 

We  are  frequently  pained,  in  reading  the  lives  of  the  saints,  at  seeing 
the  persistence  with  which  their  misguided  parents  so  often  oppose  them  in 
their  wish  to  consecrate  themselves  entirely  to  God,  How  much  had  not 
these  poor  children  to  endure ;  how  long  and  severe  their  struggle !  In 
many  cases  it  was  not  until  God  Himself  interposed  by  a  special  judg- 
ment that  the  blindness  and  obstinacy  of  the  parents  were  at  length 
overcome.  How  short-sighted  are  those  parents  who  prefer  to  see  their 
child  wedded  to  a  sinful  man — perhaps  a  Protestant  or  an  infidel — rather 
than  consecrated  to  the  All-holy  God ;  yet  we  have  the  same  blindness 
daily  before  our  eyes,  although  in  a  different  form.  You,  Christian  par- 
ents, are  not  strangers  to  it ;  perhaps  some  of  you  ate  among  the  guilty. 
It  is  natural  for  parents  to  study  to  promote  the  temporal  welfare  of  their 
children  ;  it  is  also  natural  for  them  to  wish  to  see  them  well  matched,  as 
the  phrase  has  it  ;  but  the  true  Christian  must  be  guided  by  the  princi- 
ples of  religion,  and  not  by  those  of  interest  or  worldly  wisdom.  You 
should  seriously  ponder  the  words  of  our  Divine  Redeemer:  "  What  doth 
it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  suffer  the  loss  of  his  own 
soul  ?  Or  what  exchange  shall  a  man  give  for  his  soul  ?  "  (Matt.  xvi.  26). 
How  many  parents  prepare  the  way  for  mixed  marriages  by  sending  their 
children  to  the  infidel  schools,  because  they  are  thought  to  be  more  re- 
spectable in  the  opinion  of  worldlings  !  How  many  permit  their  daughters 
to  associate  with  those  »who  are  not  of  the  faith,  because  they  are  re- 
garded as  more  wealthy  or  fashionable  !  How  many  not  only  allow,  but 
even  encourage  their  children  to  marry  those  who  are  not  of  the  fold  of 
Christ,  because  they  imagine  that  by  that  means  the  wealth  and  standing 
of  their  families  will  be  enhanced  in  the  eyes  of  the  w^orld  !  Woe  to  such 
parents,  who  prefer  the  gifts  of  Mammon  to  the  gifts  of  God,  and  who 
trifle  with  the  faith,  the  happiness,  and  the  eternal  salvation  of  their  chil- 
dren for  the  sake  of  filthy  lucre.  What  will  they  be  able  to  answer  an 
angry  God  when  He  calls  them  to  account  for  bartering  those  saving 
truths,  which  He  sent  His  Divine  Son  on  earth  to  deliver  and  establish  at 


73G  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

the  price  of  His  sacred  blood  and  cruel  death,  for  wealth,  which  they  canr 
hope  to  possess  at  most  for  a  few  years,  or  for  so-called  respectability, 
which  is  based  on  the  sin  of  Lucifer?  The  true  faith  is  the  legacy  which 
Jesus  Christ  has  left  to  the  world ;  it  is  the  pearl  of  great  price  for  which 
the  martyrs  willingly  exchanged  life  itself  in  the  midst  of  the  most  cruel 
torments;  for  which  millions  of  generous  souls  have  voluntarily  sacrificed 
all  things ;  with  which  nothing  on  earth  can  be  brought  into  comparison. 
If  you  endanger  that,  you  are  guilty  of  a  grievous  sin  and  an  unpar- 
donable folly ;  if  you  lose  it,  you  lose  all  for  time  and  eternity.  Let 
this  be  your  rule,  Christian  parents,  never  to  prefer  the  temporal  to  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  your  children  ;  and  never  to  endanger  their  faith  for 
any  human  consideration.  Remember  that  your  conduct  will  not  influ- 
ence them  only,  but  through  them  will  influence  their  children  for  gen- 
erations. Do  not  then,  I  entreat  you,  call  down  the  malediction  of 
heaven  upon  your  ashes  for  untold  years  in  their  silent  rest.  Never  for- 
get the  words  of  our  Divine  Redeemer,  so  replete  with  heavenly  wis- 
dom :  "  What  doth  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  suffer 
the  loss  of  his  own  soul  ?  Or  what  exchange  shall  a  man  give  for  his 
soul  ?  "  (Matt.  xvi.  26).  But  there  are  other  considerations  which  parents 
who  are  really  alive  to  the  true  interests  of  their  children,  will  not  fail  to 
make  use  of,  among  which  one  of  the  most  powerful  is, — 

///.   To  instruct  their  children  early  and  ground  them  deeply  and  firmly 
in  their  reBgion. 

Of  all  the  means  of  preventing  mixed  marriages  there  is  none  more 
effectual  than  this  of  instructing  the  young  in  the  knowledge  and  practice 
of  their  religion  from  their  tender  years,  so  that  it  will  grow  up  with  them 
and  become,  as  it  were,  a  second  nature,  according  to  the  words  of  the 
Holy  Spirit :  "  A  young  man  according  to  his  way,  even  when  he  is  old 
he  will  not  depart  from  it  "  (Prov.  xxii.  6).  The  years  of  childhood  are 
those  in  which  the  deepest  and  most  lasting  impressions  are  made ;  and, 
in  the  language  of  Sacred  Scripture  :  "  It  is  good  for  a  man,  when  he  hath 
borne  the  yoke  from  his  youth  "  (Lam.  iii.  27).  And  when  the  teaching 
of  parents  is  confirmed  by  the  silent  force  of  their  good  example,  it  is  sel- 
dom that  a  son  or  daughter  disregards  them  in  any  important  matter  at 
any  period  in  life.  Instruction  and  example  are  guardian  angels,  as  it 
were,  attending  them  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  If,  then,  you  want 
your  children  to  grow  up  firm  in  their  attachment  to  the  Church,  and  free 
from  the  danger  of  contracting  marriage  with  non-Catholics,  let  it  be 
your  constant  study  to  instruct  them  in  their  religion  and  to  accustom 
them  to  strict  discipline.  Remember  the  words  of  the  wise  man  :  "  Hast 
thou  children?  instruct  them,  and  bow  down  their  neck  from  their  child- 


FATHER  LAMBING.  Y37 

hood  "  (Eccles.  vii.  25).  But  owing  to  the  temptations  by  which  they 
are  surrounded  when  they  are  out  of  your  sight,  you  must  not  fail  to 
make  use  of  such  other  natural  and  supernatural  means  as  are  calculated 
to  avert  the  dread  evil  of  a  mixed  marriage.  Hence  another  important 
duty  is, — 

IV.  To  guard  them  prudently  and  vigilantly  against  forming  too  inti- 
mate an  acquaintance  with  non-Catholics. 

Our  Divine  Redeemer,  in  sending  His  Apostles  to  teach  all  nations, 
said  to  them  :  "  You  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out  of 
the  world ;  therefore  the  world  hateth  you  "  (John  xv.  19) ;  and  never 
did  this  antagonism  between  the  children  of  God  and  the  children  of 
the  world  assume  a  more  dangerous  or  insidious  form  than  at  the  present 
time.  While  the  children  of  God  are  laboring  to  preserve  their  attachment 
to  the  truth,  those  of  the  world  are  receding  further  from  its  light,  and  are 
burying  themselves  more  and  more  hopelessly  in  the  darkness  of  error 
and  unbelief.  As  of  old  with  the  wise  of  this  world,  so  it  is  at  present. 
"They  became  vain  in  their  thoughts,  and  their  foolish  heart  was  dark- 
ened. For  professing  themselves  to  be  wise,  they  became  fools  "  (Rom. 
i.  21,  22).  But  as  the  curiosity  of  Eve  made  her  the  victim  of  the  wiles 
of  the  serpent,  so  does  the  curiosity  and  waywardness  of  many  young 
persons  in  our  days  expose  them  to  the  same  danger.  'And  what  adds  to 
their  peril  is  the  little  regard  too  many  of  them  have  for  parental  and 
ecclesiastical  authority,  and  the  confidence  they  have  in  their  own 
wisdom. 

Hence  a  most  important  duty  devolves  upon  parents  of  keeping  a 
vigilant  watch  over  them,  lest  they  make  a  false  or  dangerous  step  that 
cannot  be  retraced.  "  The  Father,"  says  the  Holy  Spirit,  "  waketh  for 
the  daughter  when  no  man  knoweth,  and  the  carq  of  her  taketh  away  his 
sleep  when  she  is  young,  lest  she  pass  away  the  flower  of  her  age" 
(Eccles.  xlii.  9).  And  happy  are  the  parents  who  have  watched  success- 
fully !  How  many,  alas,  in  this  degenerate  age  are  forced  to  cry  out  with 
the  Eternal  Father :  "  I  have  brought  up  children  and  exalted  them,  but 
they  have  despised  me  "  (Isaias  i.  2).  What  could  be  more  painful  or 
humiliating  to  parents  than  to  see  a  son  or  daughter  who  has  attained  the 
age  of  maturity  despise  their  authority  and  that  of  the  Church,  marry  a 
non-Catholic,  and  become  the  parent  of  children  that  may  not  be  trained 
up  in  the  true  faith  ? 

Yet  parents  themselves  are  not  always  free  from  blame.  They  some- 
times know  their  son  or  daughter  is  contracting  an  intimacy  with  a 
non-Catholic,  yet  they  do  not  raise  a  warning  voice  until  it  is  too  late. 
Perhaps  they  feel  themselves  flattered  by  the  attention  a  rich  or  well- 


738  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

dressed  Protestant  is  paying  their  daughter;  or  they  imagine  there  is 
time  enough,  and  that  they  can  arrest  the  evil  whenever  they  see  fit.  But 
they  discover  their  mistake  when  it  is  too  late,  and  lament  their  inability 
to  avert  a  misfortune  which  if  taken  sooner  might  easily  have  been  pre- 
vented. Beware  then.  Christian  parents,  of  permitting  such  intimacies, 
and  on  no  account  encourage  them,  no  matter  what  the  temporal  advan- 
tages may  seem  to  be.  Nothing  can  compensate  for  the  risk  of  your 
children's  faith.  But  "  Unless  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  he  watcheth  in 
vain  that  keepeth  it"  (Ps.  cxxvi.  i) ;  hence  it  is  incumbent  on  parents  as 
an  imperative  duty, — 

^       V.   To  pray  God  earnestly  and  perseveringly  to  guard  their  children 
against  the  evil  of  a  mixed  fnarriage. 

When  we  consider  the  unlimited  power  and  efficacy  which  our  Divine 
Saviour  has  been  pleased  to  promise  infallibly  to  the  prayers  that  are 
offered  with  the  proper  disposition  to  His  Eternal  Father  in  His  name, 
it  is  surprising  and  painful  to  witness  the  indifference  of  so  many  Chris- 
tians in  regard  to  it.  But  for  no  person  is  prayer  more  necessary  than 
for  parents ;  for  while  others  have  to  care  for  the  salvation  of  their  own 
souls  only,  parents  have  to  labor  also  for  the  salvation  of  their  children. 
Learn  then.  Christian  parents,  to  have  recourse  to  God  by  frequent,  fer- 
vent, and  persevering  prayer  that  He  may  dispose  the  hearts  of  your 
children  to  receive  and  profit  by  instruction,  and  that  He  may  direct  them 
in  the  important  matter  of  choosing  a  partner  for  life.  And  as  they  ap- 
proach the  period  in  life  when  the  thought  of  making  such  a  choice 
naturally  engages  their  attention,  let  your  prayer  be  redoubled  that  an 
affair  in  which  the  honor  and  glory  of  God  are  so  deeply  concerned,  but 
in  which  the  passions  are  so  likely  to  intrude,  may  be  directed  by  His  holy 
grace.  Never  advise  your  children  without  first  praying  that  your  advice 
may  be  according  to  the  will  of  God  and  may  be  accompanied  by  His 
benediction ;  and  if  you  see  any  danger  of  a  false  step  on  the  part  of  any 
of  them,  oh,  then  let  your  prayers  be  offered  with  all  possible  earnestness. 
Pour  out  your  soul  before  God  night  and  day  with  our  Divine  Redeemer: 
"  Holy  Father,  keep  them  in  Thy  name,  whom  Thou  hast  given  me  " 
(John  xvii.  ii).  God  loves  to  be  importuned,  and  He  frequently  gives  in 
a  moment  what  for  a  long  time  He  denied.  Beseech  the  guardian  angels 
and  patron  saints  of  your  children  to  watch  over  them  with  special  care,  and 
do  not  forget  to  have  recourse  to  Mary  and  Joseph,  whom  God  so  miracu- 
lously directed  in  the  choice  of  each  other,  that  the  prayers  of  those  who 
were  united  in  the  holiest  bond  may  guide  your  children  in  their  choice 
and  sanctify  them  in  the  union  into  which  they  are  about  to  enter. 

You  are  now  aware,  Christian  parents,  of  the  important  part  which  God 


FATHER  LAMBING. 


739 


and  His  Church  expect  you  to  play  in  preventing  the  dread  evil  of  mixed 
marriages.  You  have  learned  some  of  the  means  by  which  they  may  be 
averted  ;  study  to  employ  them.  Instil  into  the  minds  of  your  children 
by  word  and  example  the  sanctity  of  the  married  life,  and  the  dis- 
positions with  which  they  should  enter  into  it.  But  in  your  solicitude 
for  their  welfare  never  prefer  their  temporal  to  their  spiritual  advance- 
ment, rather  be  mindful  of  the  words  of  Christ :  "  Seek  ye  therefore  first 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you"  (Matt.  vi.  33).  Instruct  them  early  and  ground  them  deeply 
in  the  knowledge  of  their  religion.  Guard  them  vigilantly  and  prudently 
against  the  many  temptations  by  which  they  are  surrounded  in  the  mat- 
ter of  choosing  a  partner  for  life,  and  pray  God  earnestly  and  persever- 
ingly  that  His  blessing  may  sanctify  and  seal  your  efforts.  If  you  sedu- 
lously perform  your  part  as  good  Christian  parents,  you  will  have  the 
consolation  of  seeing  your  children  the  parents  of  good  Catholic  families, 
and  in  the  world  to  come  your  glory  will  be  increased  by  the  society  of 
those  whom  you  so  carefully  trained  up  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Amen. 


THE  DUTIES  OF  CATHOLICS  MARRIED  TO  NON- 

CATHOLICS. 

"  We  have  not  hearkened  to  Thy  commandments,  nor  have  we  observed  nor  done  as 
Thou  hast  commanded  us,  that  it  might  go  well  with  us." — Dan.  iii.  30. 

HESE  words  are  taken  from  the  prayer  which  the  three  holy- 
youths  of  the  Jewish  captivity  offered  to  God  from  the  midst  of 
the  fiery  furnace  into  which  they  were  cast  by  command  of  King 
Nabuchodonosor  for  refusing  to  worship  the  golden  statue 
that  he  had  erected  at  Babylon.  The  prophets  of  God  had  foretold  cen- 
turies before  the  evils  that  would  befall  the  chosen  people  if  they  would 
refuse  to  obey  the  laws  which  had  been  divinely  imposed  upon  them. 
But  with  that  waywardness  which  always  characterized  the  Jewish  nation 
they  transgressed,  and  were  in  consequence  led  into  captivity.  By  the 
river  of  Babylon,  far  from  their  native  land  and  the  holy  city  and  temple, 
the  good  lamented  their  sad  lot,  and  endeavored  by  the  austerity  of  their 
lives  to  move  God  to  mercy ;  while  the  wicked  plunged  still  more  deeply 
into  sin,  and  called  down  upon  themselves  a  yet  greater  measure  of  the 
divine  vengeance. 

How  aptly  may  not  the  words  of  their  sacred  text  be  applied  to  those 
who  have  entangled  themselves  in  the  meshes  of  a  mixed  marriage. 
They  have  not  hearkened  to  the  divine  command  which  required  them 
to  use  their  liberty  to  marry  "  only  in  the  Lord,"  but  have  contracted 
alliances  for  which  the  Church,  in  the  words  of  her  Sovereign  Pontiffs, 
has  a  "horror,"  and  which  she  "abominates"  and  "detests."  They 
have  united  themselves  with  the  enemies  of  God,  and  hence  it  is  not  well 
with  them  here,  and  we  have  only  too  great  reason  to  fear  that  it  will 
not  be  well  with  many  of  them  hereafter.  For,  like  the  Jews  in  the 
captivity,  while  a  few  study  to  observe  the  divine  law  as  far  as  their 
circumstances  will  permit,  the  many,  unfortunately,  appear  to  think 
little  of  the  sin  they  have  committed,  but  estrange  themselves  yet  more 
and  more  from  God.  Hence,  before  concluding  this  series  of  sermons,  I 
shall  address  a  few  words  of  advice  and  admonition  to  those  who  have 
already  contracted  such  marriages,  on  the  manner  in  which  they 
should  live  in  order  to  avert  as  much  as  possible  from  themselves  and 
their  children  the  evil  consequences  of  the  imprudent  step  they  have 
(740) 


FATHER  LAMBING.  741 

taken.  I  shall  suppose,  as  is  perhaps  most  commonly  the  case,  that  the 
wife  is  the  Catholic ;  and  shall  arrange  what  I  have  to  say  under  the  three 
following  heads : 

/.  Her  duties  to  herself ; 
II.  Her  duties  to  her  husband ;  and, 
III.  Her  duties  to  her  children. 

I.  Her  duties  to  herself. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  speak  of  those  general  laws  that  should 
regulate  the  conduct  of  all  married  persons,  but  only  of  those  particular 
rules  which  the  circumstances  of  a  mixed  marriage  give  rise  to.  First 
among  these  must  be  reckoned  the  duty  of  seeing  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  marriage  contrary  to  the  laws  of  the  Church,  as  far  as  those  laws 
are  applicable  to  a  marriage  of  this  kind.  It  frequently  happens  that  a 
Catholic  marrying  a  non-Catholic,  having  by  the  very  act  violated  a  great 
law  of  the  Church,  pays  little  attention  to  her  other  precepts.  How 
often,  for  example,  do  we  find  a  Catholic  marrying  without  acquainting 
her  pastor  of  the  fact,  or  procuring  the  necessary  dispensation,  or  going 
before  a  civil  magistrate  or  an  heretical  minister,  or  marrying  a  person 
without  knowing  for  certain  whether  he  had  been  married  before  or  not. 
If  there  are  any  irregularities  of  this  kind,  it  is  the  strict  duty  of  the 
Catholic  to  apply  without  delay  to  her  pastor,  either  in  the  confessional 
or  out  of  it,  and  have  the  error,  whatever  it  is,  corrected.  It  must  be 
•done  some  day,  and  the  lapse  of  time  will  only  add  to  the  difficulty.  Do 
not  fear,  the  good  priest  is  animated  with  the  charity  of  his  Divine  Master, 
and  though  he  hates  the  sin,  he  will  yet  be  only  too  happy  to  welcome 
back  the  repentant  sinner. 

St.  Paul,  writing  of  the  early  Christian  women  who  preferred  marriage 
to  virginity,  said :  "  She  shall  have  tribulation  of  the  flesh  ";  and  however 
true  this  is  of  married  women  in  general,  it  is  tenfold  more  true  of  those 
who  have  contracted  a  mixed  marriage.  They  should  then  understand 
the  difficulties  in  which  they  have  involved  themselves,  which  are  neither 
few  nor  trivial.  In  no  other  position  in  life,  perhaps,  can  there  be  so 
little  true  happiness.  You  who  have  married  non-Catholics  are  bound  to 
love,  cherish,  and  live  in  the  most  intimate  relations  with  a  man  who 
differs  essentially  from  you  on  the  most  important  question  that  can  en- 
gage the  human  mind — the  relation  between  you  and  your  God.  There 
can  be  no  real  sympathy  at  any  time,  much  less  when  sickness  or  trials 
make  you  long  most  ardently  for  it.  In  the  arduous  duty  of  training  up 
your  children  you  are  not  only  alone,  but  are  obliged  to  act  contrary  to 
the  convictions,  and  frequently  also  contrary  to  the  commands  of  him 


742  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

whom  most  of  all  you  should  love  and  cherish  ;  and  you  will  be  forced  to 
see  yourself  fail,  at  least  partially,  in  the  most  important  matters.  Under 
the  most  favorable  circumstances  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  a  weight  of 
individual  responsibility  will  be  your  daily  bread.  I  could  say  much 
more,  but  will  not,  for  I  do  not  call  these  trials  to  your  mind  with  a  view 
of  discouraging  you,  but  rather  to  nerve  you  for  the  struggle  in  which 
you  are  engaged,  and  which,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  you  must  continue 
through  life.  Your  first  duty,  then,  is  to  recognize  the  difficulties  of  your 
situation,  and  to  make  use  of  such  means  as  will  enable  you  to  pass  suc- 
cessfully through  them. 

Surrounded  thus  by  difficulties,  and  deprived  in  a  great  measure  of 
human  aid  and  consolation,  you  must  learn  to  lean  more  and  more  upon 
God.  And  although  you  will  doubtless  meet  with  obstacles,  sometimes 
insurmountable,  in  attending  Mass,  receiving  the  Sacraments,  and  comply- 
ing with  your  other  religious  duties,  you  must  not  permit  yourself  to  grow 
remiss.  You  owe  it  to  yourself  to  be  faithful  in  the  use  of  these  means 
of  grace,  for  you,  more  than  others,  stand  in  need  of  them.  You  owe  it 
to  your  non-Catholic  partner,  for  you  have  solemnly  promised  to  do  all 
in  your  power  to  reclaim  him  from  the  error  of  his  ways;  but  you  owe 
it  especially  to  your  children,  for  their  religious  training  devolves  exclu- 
sively on  you,  and  you  must  conduct  it,  as  I  have  said,  amid  the  greatest 
difficulties.  Beware  then  of  permitting  yourself  to  grow  careless,  as  too 
many  unhappily  do,  who  neglect  the  salvation  of  their  own  souls  and 
those  of  their  children,  and  who,  so  far  from  laboring  for  the  conversion  of 
their  erring  partners,  rather  confirm  them  in  their  unbelief.  How  terrible 
will  be  the  account  they  must  one  day  render  to  God ! 

Be  no  less  on  your  guard  against  permitting  yourself  to  frequent 
Protestant  churches,  either  from  curiosity  or  servile  compliance  with  the 
wishes  of  your  husband.  Remember  how  Eve  was  led  into  sin  by 
curiosity,  who,  as  the  Scripture  narrates,  "  saw  that  the  tree  was  good  to 
eat,  and  fair  to  the  eyes,  and  delightful  to  behold,  and  she  took  of  the 
fruit  thereof  and  did  eat  "  (Gen.  iii.  6),  and  by  so  doing  brought  countless 
evils  upon  the  whole  human  race  to  the  end  of  time.  Under  no  circum- 
stances can  it  be  lawful  for  you  to  take  part  in  heretical  worship,  or  to  do 
or  say  anything  that  would  approve  of  it.  Resist  every  temptation  of 
this  kind  with  promptness  and  determination,  remembering  the  words  of 
the  Holy  Spirit:  "He  that  contemneth  small  things  shall  fall  by  little 
and  little"  (Eccles.  xix.  i). 

But  what  is  to  be  done  if  your  husband  forbids  you  to  go  to  Mass 
and  receive  the  Sacraments,  or  to  pray  at  home,  or  would  try  to  force 
you  to  disregard  the  days  of  fast  or  abstinence,  as  unfortunately  happens 
toe  often  ?    Ah,  you  should  have  thought  of  this  before  you  made  the 


FATHER  LAMBING.  743 

fatal  step  of  marrying  out  of  the  Church,  and  should  have  listened  to 
those  who  tried  to  dissuade  you  from  it.  But  now  it  is  too  late,  and  you 
must  make  the  most  of  your  trying  situation.  But,  for  your  consolation, 
I  will  say  that  no  creature  can  come  between  another  and  God.  He  has 
imposed  on  all  mankind  the  obligation  of  adoring  and  serving  Him,  and 
a  human  law  or  command  that  would  conflict  with  this  duty  is  not  and 
cannot  be  binding  in  conscience.  While  you  should  carefully  avoid  all 
contention  and  disputes,  you  must  yet  insist  upon  maintaining  those 
rights  which  God  has  given  you.  Far  too  many  Catholics  married  out  of 
the  Church  surrender  too  easily,  and  yield  without  a  protest  at  the  first 
intimation  of  displeasure  on  the  part  of  their  husbands.  Being  but 
indifferent  Catholics,  as  all  are  who  contract  a  mixed  marriage,  they 
neither  know  the  value  of  these  means  of  grace  and  the  need  they  have 
of  them,  nor  understand  the  true  nature  of  their  obligation  to  obey  the 
laws  of  the  Church.  If  they  afterward  attempt  to  recover  their  rights 
they  generally  find  it  impossible.  In  the  particular  cases  that  may  arise, 
have  recourse  to  your  pastor  for  advice  and  direction.  And  at  all  times 
pray  to  God  that  He  would  protect  you  in  the  dangers  by  which  you  are 
surrounded ;  for  although  you  have  acted  contrary  to  His  holy  will  in 
uniting  yourself  with  one  of  His  enemies,  yet  He  never  despises  the 
prayer  of  the  humble  and  contrite  heart,  and  He  will  enable  you  to  work 
out  your  salvation. 

//.  Her  duties  to  her  husband. 

The  Catholic  wife  has  also  special  duties  to  perform  toward  her 
erring  husband ;  one  of  the  conditions  on  which  the  Church  insists  in 
every  mixed  marriage,  and  from  which  she  never  does  and  never  can 
dispense,  being,  in  the  words  of  Pope  Pius  VIII. ,  that  the  Catholic  is 
'*  required  to  use  every  effort  to  withdraw  the  other  from  error."  This 
is  a  duty  that  is  unfortunately  too  generally  neglected.  Let  us  hope  that 
you  at  least  will  not  be  found  among  the  remiss.  You  are  strictly  bound 
to  labor  for  the  conversion  of  your  husband,  and  if  you  fail  to  do  so  you 
are  guilty  of  grievous  sin,  because  it  is  a  grave  command.  The  most 
effectual  means  to  this  end  will  be  the  faithful  fulfilment  of  your  own 
religious  duties,  and  the  showing  in  the  holiness  of  your  own  life  the 
beauty  of  the  religion  to  which  you  would  win  him.  Example  is  more 
convincing  and  less  obtrusive  than  argument,  and  as  the  continual 
dropping  of  water  wears  away  the  hardest  rock,  so  the  silent  force  of 
example  will  in  the  end  make  its  impression  on  the  most  obdurate  heart. 
But  your  example,  bear  in  mind,  is  not  merely  to  extend  to  the  discharge 
of  your  religious  duties.  If  the  injunction  of  our  Divine  Saviour  is 
binding  upon  all  Christians,  much  more  is  it  binding  upon  you  to  "so  let 


744  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

your  light  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and 
glorify  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  "  (Matt.  v.  i6).  You  are  to  show 
in  your  daily  life  the  influence  of  your  religion,  in  your  devotion  to  the 
duties  of  your  state,  in  gentleness  of  temper,  in  the  control  of  your 
tongue, — a  most  important  matter, — by  your  patience,  by  never  casting 
your  husband's  religion  into  his  face,  and  by  the  many  other  ways  in 
which  the  influence  of  religion  shows  itself  in  the  outward  conduct. 

And  do  not  fail  to  have  recourse  to  God  by  fervent  prayer.  Re- 
member the  promises  our  Divine  Redeemer  has  made  to  humble,  per- 
severing prayer.  Call  to  mind  and  be  encouraged  by  the  example  of 
such  holy  women  as  St.  Monica,  who  in  prayers  and  tears  besought  of 
God  the  conversion  of  her  husband  and  son  for  many  years  before  she 
had  the  happiness  of  seeing  them  embrace  the  true  faith.  If  your  prayers 
are  as  earnest  and  persevering  as  hers  they  will  be  equally  efficacious. 
And  consider  the  motives  that  should  prompt  you  to  pray :  the  greater 
harmony  that  will  prevail  in  your  family ;  the  ease  with  which  you  will 
be  able  to  fulfil  your  religious  duties;  the  facility  with  which  you  will 
train  up  your  family ;  the  happiness  you  will  enjoy  in  seeing  him  whom 
you  love  most  upon  earth  a  member  of  the  true  Church ;  and  the  con- 
solation it  will  afford  both  you  and  him  at  the  hour  of  death. 

Study  your  religion,  moreover,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  your  husband 
such  explanations  as  he  may  desire  from  time  to  time.  But  carefully 
avoid  disputation  and  argument  on  religious  questions ;  it  will  as  a 
general  rule  be  productive  of  more  harm  than  good,  will  embitter  his 
feelings  and  prompt  him  to  resist.  But  calm,  well-timed  conversations  on 
matters  of  religion  will  not  be  out  of  place,  and  may  be  productive  of 
much  good ;  and  if  the  force  of  your  example  has  disposed  him  to  listen 
favorably,  your  efforts  may  go  far  toward  securing  his  conversion,  and 
not  only  his  conversion,  but  your  own  salvation  also,  according  to  the 
words  of  St.  James:  "  He  who  causeth  a  sinner  to  be  converted  from  the 
error  of  his  way,  shall  save  his  soul  from  death,  and  shall  cover  a  multi- 
tude of  sins  "  (v.  20).  Besides,  you  have  solemnly  promised  to  use  every 
effort  to  withdraw  him  from  his  errors.  The  better  to  do  this,  study 
especially  by  every  gentle  means  to  withdraw  him  as  much  as  possible 
from  heretical  influences,  whether  it  be  that  of  friends  or  of  books  and 
papers,  and  try  and  induce  him  to  read  Catholic  books.  In  the  particular 
cases  that  may  arise  from  time  to  time,  seek  the  advice  and  direction  of 
your  confessor,  who  will  be  sufficiently  acquainted  with  your  circum- 
stances to  speak  to  the  purpose. 

///.  Her  duties  to  her  children. 

But  the  most  important  of  all  your  duties  are  those  which  you  owe  to 


FATHER  LAMBING.  745 

your  children  ;  and  this  for  various  reasons.  As  to  yourself,  you  acted 
with  a  free  will  and  at  a  time  when  your  character  was  formed  and  your 
judgment  ripe ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  your  husband.  But  it  is 
not  so  with  your  children.  God  gives  them  to  you  in  their  infancy,  He 
intrusts  the  moulding  and  forming  of  their  religious  and  moral  character 
to  your  hands ;  and  He  will  hold  you  responsible  before  His  dread  tri- 
bunal for  the  manner  in  which  you  fulfil  this  most  important  duty.  Let 
us,  however,  consider  these  duties  in  detail,  mindful  of  the  promise  which 
both  you  and  your  husband  made  at  the  time  of  your  marriage,  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  conditions  and  in  the  words  of  the  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ, 
who  alone  on  earth  is  divinely  empowered  to  grant  dispensations  for  such 
marriages,  "  the  children  of  both  sexes,  to  issue  from  the  union,  should 
be  brought  up  exclusively  in  the  sanctity  of  the  Catholic  religion."  It 
was  upon  this  condition  that  you  were  married,  and  had  you  or  either 
of  you  refused  to  promise  its  fulfilment,  the  Church  would  never  and 
could  never  have  permitted  your  union.  No  law,  human,  ecclesiastical, 
or  divine,  can  ever  free  you  from  this  obligation. 

But  let  us  go  still  further  into  detail,  and  trace  out  these  duties  from 
the  beginning.  I  must  commence  by  warning  you  against  a  dreadful  evil 
unhappily  not  uncommon  at  the  present  day,  and  must  tell  you  plainly 
that,  no  matter  what  may  be  your  trials  or  the  difficulties  you  meet 
with  in  the  education  and  training  of  your  children,  you  cannot  under 
any  circumstances  have  recourse  to  any  unnatural  or  unlawful  means 
to  prevent  you  from  having  a  family.  There  is  nothing  that  can 
justify  such  a  course  of  conduct.  The  law  laid  down  by  our  Divine  Re- 
deemer in  regard  to  the  absolute  necessity  of  Baptism,  that,  "  unless  a 
man  be  born  again  of  water  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  cannot  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God  "  (John  iii.  8),  imposes  upon  you  the  sacred  duty  of  hav- 
ing all  your  children  baptized  in  the  Catholic  Church — if  necessary  even 
by  stealth, — and  of  preventing  them  from  being  baptized  in  an  heretical 
sect.  And  the  reception  of  this  Sacrament  must  not  be  deferred  for  an 
unreasonable  and  unnecessary  length  of  time.  The  life  of  a  new-born 
infant  is  very  frail,  and  little  is  required  to  extinguish  the  vital  spark ; 
and  what  could  be  a  more  painful  thought,  or  what  a  greater  crime  in  a 
mother,  than  that  a  child  of  hers  should  through  her  fault  die,  or  be  in 
danger  of  dying,  without  the  hope  of  ever  seeing  God  ? 

According  to  the  solemn  promise  you  made  at  the  time  of  your  mar- 
riage, and  according  to  the  clearest  dictates  of  reason,  you  are  strictly 
bound  to  raise  all  your  children  without  exception  in  the  Catholic  relig- 
ion. You  dare  not  consent,  nor,  as  far  as  you  are  able  to  prevent  it, 
permit  such  a  division  of  the  family  as  would  allow  the  boys  to  follow  the 
religion  of  the  father  and  the  girls  that  of  the  mother.     And  here  in  the 


746  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

training  of  your  children  is  where  you  will  meet  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty. Would  to  God  you  had  been  sensible  of  it  in  time ;  but  you  had 
eyes  and  saw  not,  you  had  ears  and  heard  not,  when  your  friends  and 
those  who  had  your  welfare  sincerely  at  heart  sought  to  deter  you  from  so 
perilous  a  step, — perilous  to  yourself,  and  more  perilous  to  the  children 
whom  God  might  give  you.  O  God,  how  the  evils  of  a  mixed  marriage 
multiply  as  we  advance  and  study  it  in  detail !  Then  you  must  see  that 
your  children  are  prepared  at  the  proper  time  and  in  the  proper  manner 
for  the  reception  of  the  Sacraments  of  Penance,  Confirmation,  and  the 
Holy  Communion,  and  God  grant  that  you  may  be  able  to  do  so ;  but 
your  task  will  not  be  an  easy  one,  nor  will  your  success  be  perfect.  You 
are  also  bound  to  use  every  effort  to  prevent  your  children  from  being 
sent  to  the  infidel  public  schools ;  nor  is  this  likely  to  be  accomplished 
without  difficulty.  Yet  it  is  a  most  sacred  duty,  and  cannot  be  neglected 
without  sin.  And  under  no  circumstances  can  you  permit  them  to  attend 
the  Protestant  Sunday-school,  take  part  in  their  excursions,  or  read  the 
papers  and  books  which  are  so  liberally  distributed  where  there  is  hope  of 
causing  a  Catholic  child  to  apostatize  from  the  faith. 

In  addition  to  all  this,  you  must,  as  your  children  grow  up,  sedulously 
make  use  of  the  means  which  I  have  pointed  out  to  all  parents  of  guard- 
ing their  children  against  the  danger  of  contracting  a  mixed  marriage. 
Finally,  in  those  peculiar  circumstances  which  will  occasionally  arise,  and 
in  which  you  will  stand  in  need  of  the  advice  of  a  friend  in  whom  you 
can  place  entire  confidence,  have  recourse  to  your  confessor,  candidly 
state  your  case  to  him,  ask  his  advice,  and  having  received  it,  follow  it  as 
closely  as  you  are  able. 

Such,  then,  are  some  of  your  duties  to  yourself,  to  your  husband,  and 
to  your  children.  Endeavor  to  fulfil  them  carefully,  for  much,  very  much, 
depends  upon  you.  Be  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  your  religious  duties 
and  do  not  permit  yourself  to  grow  remiss,  and  show  by  the  holiness  of 
your  life  the  beauty  of  the  religion  you  profess.  Be  mindful  of  the 
solemn  promise  you  made  when  you  were  married,  to  use  every  effort  to 
withdraw  your  husband  from  his  errors.  But,  oh,  be  faithful  to  the 
sacred  trust  confided  to  you  in  the  education  .and  training  of  your 
children,  and  do  not  be  disheartened  by  the  obstacles  that  may  stand  in 
your  way ;  for  how  could  you  bear  the  thought  that  any  of  those  to 
whom,  under  God,  you  were  instrumental  in  giving  life,  should  be  raised 
up  ignorant  of  His  holy  law,  enemies  of  His  Church,  or  be  in  danger  of 
being  eternally  separated  from  Him?  Study  to  be  able  to  say  with  your 
Divine  Redeemer  at  the  dread  tribunal  of  God  :  "  Of  those  whom  Thou 
hast  given  me,  I  have  not  lost  any  one"  (John  xviii.  9). 

But  I  cannot  conclude  this  series  of  discourses  without  again  remind- 


FATHER  LAMBING. 


7i7 


ing  you  all  of  the  solemn  manner  in  which  mixed  marriages  have  been 
condemned  by  God  Himself  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment ;  by  the  Church  in  all  ages  in  the  declarations  of  her  Popes,  her 
Councils,  her  Fathers,  Theologians,  and  Bishops ;  and  by  the  dictates  of 
reason  and  the  lessons  of  experience.  I  have  also  pointed  out  to  you 
some  at  least  of  the  principal  causes  which  lead  to  this  dreadful  evil,  as 
well  as  the  duties  of  all  Christians  in  relation  to  it,  so  that  none  among 
you  can  plead  ignorance.  There  was  a  time  when  the  smallness  of  the 
Catholic  population  offered  a  palliation,  if  not  an  excuse,  for  the  dis- 
order of  mixed  marriages,  but  that  time  is  now  happily  past  in  almost 
every  place,  and  to  contract  a  mixed  marriage  at  present  must  be  looked 
upon  as  a  wilful  disregard  of  the  known  will  of  God  and  His  Church, 
and  a  daring  and  inexcusable  risk  of  one's  eternal  salvation  and  the  sal- 
vation of  many  yet  unborn.  Let  those,  then,  who  are  tempted  to  so 
great  a  sin  as  the  contracting  of  a  mixed  marriage  seriously  consider  how 
much  they  would  be  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  their  religion,  how 
much  such  an  act  would  expose  themselves  and  their  families  to  eternal 
ruin,  how  great  would  be  the  scandal,  how  great  the  devil's  triumph,  if 
they  should  unhappily  yield.  But  if  they  resist  such  a  temptation  they 
will  fulfil  the  will  of  God,  they  will  act  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of 
their  religion  and  the  dictates  of  right  reason,  will  aid  in  opposing  a  great 
disorder,  and  will  merit  a  special  blessing  from  God.  "  Blessed  are  they 
who  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  keep  it."    Amen. 


ARCHBISHOP   RYAN. 


Most  Reverend  Patrick  John  Ryan,  D.D.,  was  consecrated  Bishop  in 
1872,  and  elevated  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Philadelphia  in  1884.  His 
masterpiece  of  oratory  was  delivered  at  Baltimore,  on  the  occasion  of  the 
Centenary  of  the  Catholic  Hierarchy  in  the  United  States,  and  is  herewith 
presented. 


(749) 


^vchhisUop  ilajatt. 


ELOQUENT  DISCOURSE  BY  ARCHBISHOP  RYAN, 
OF  PHILADELPHIA. 

DELIVERED  ON  THE  OCCASION  OF  THE  CELEBRATION  OF  THE  CENTENARY  OF  THE 

CATHOLIC  HIERARCHY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

"  Simon,  the  High-Priest,  the  son  of  Onias,  who  in  his  life  propped  up  the  house, 
and  in  his  days  fortified  the  temple.  By  whom  also  the  height  of  the  temple 
was  founded,  the  double  building  and  the  high  walls  of  the  temple.    And  as  the 

sun  when  it  shineth,  so  did  he  shine  in  the  temple  of  God And  as 

branches  of  a  palm  tree,  so  they  stood  around  about  him  and  all  the  sons  of 
Aaron  in  their  glory." — Ecclesiasticus  1.  i,  2,  7,  14. 

|OST  eminent  Cardinals,  Most  Reverend  Representatives  of  the 
Supreme  Pontiff,  Venerable  Brothers  of  the  Episcopate  and 
the  Clergy,  Beloved  Brethren  of  the  Laity : — In  this  fiftieth 
chapter  of  the  Book  of  Ecclesiasticus  we  read  a  glowing 
eulogy  of  the  High-Priest  Simon  and  a  magnificent  description  of  the 
religious  ceremonies  which  he  performed  in  the  temple  of  God,  sur- 
rounded by  his  priests,  "  the  sons  of  Aaron,  in  their  glory."  These 
elaborate  and  striking  ceremonies  of  the  ritual  of  Israel  were  arranged  in 
detail  by  Almighty  God  Himself.  For  the  office  of  religion  is  to  appeal 
not  only  to  the  intellect,  but  to  the  heart  also,  to  the  imagination,  to  the 
love  of  the  beautiful,  to  every  element  which  forms  part  of  our  being. 
This  mission  of  religious  ceremonial  requires  that  it  should  be  instruct- 
ive, touching,  beautiful,  and  permanent.  The  ceremonies  of  the  temple 
foreshadowed  those  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  descriptions  in  this 
chapter  and  other  portions  of  the  Scripture,  seem  like  a  prophet's  vision 
of  a  Pontifical  or  Papal  Mass.  You  behold  enacted  here  to-day  a  scene 
like  that  glorious  one  narrated  in  the  fiftieth  chapter  of  Ecclesiasticus. 
A  Christian  Pontiff  offers  the  blood  of  the  grape — the  blood  of  the  true 
vine,  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  Around  the  Pontiff  stand  the  sons  of  Aaron 
in  their  glory  ;  the  singers  have  lifted  up  their  voices  in  sweet  melody; 
and  "  all  the  people  fall  down  to  the  earth  to  adore  the  Lord  their  God 
and  to  pray  to  the  Almighty  God,  the  Most  High." 

Could  these  scenes  influence  the  human  soul  as  they  do,  if  God  had 
not  planted  an  element  within  it  to  be  so  influenced  ?  And  passing  up- 
wards from  Jewish  and  Christian  ceremonials,  we  may  contemplate  with 

(751) 


752  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

eyes  of  faith  a  scene  to-day  in  the  eternal  Temple  of  God — the  Simon  of 
the  American  Hierarchy,  the  first  Bishop  that  ruled  the  Church  in  these 
States,  approaching  the  Throne  of  God,  encircled  by  all  the  great  and 
holy  prelates,  priests,  and  people  who  have  passed  to  heaven  during  the 
past  hundred  years,  praising  and  thanking  the  Most  High  for  His  mani- 
fold benedictions  bestowed  on  the  young  American  Church,  and  asking 
that  these  benedictions  be  perpetuated.  In  the  glorious  Catholic  doc- 
trine of  the  Communion  of  Saints  we  thus  rejoice  and  thank  and  pray  in 
unison  with  those  who  have  passed  away  during  this  first  century  of  the 
Church's  life  here.  Yes,  her  first  century  in  these  United  States,  but  not 
her  first  on  this  continent.  We  naturally  look  back  with  pardonable 
pride  to  three  hundred  years  earlier,  when  the  great  Catholic  discoverer 
of  this  New  World,  representing  a  Catholic  nation,  first  planted  the  all- 
civilizing  Cross  on  these  shores.  We  were  certainly  here  before  any  of  the 
religious  denominations  of  our  separated  brethren,  and  when  the  leader  of 
the  Reformation  in  Europe  was  still  a  Catholic  boy.  I  rejoice  to  behold 
here  to-day  a  representative  of  that  older  Catholicity  in  the  person  of  a 
distinguished  Mexican  Bishop.  We  ^yelcome,  too,  the  representatives, — 
the  representatives  of  Canada  and  of  British  America,  the  venerable  Car- 
dinal Archbishop  of  Quebec,  the  other  Archbishops,  Bishops,  and  Prelates 
who  honor  us.  We  know  that  the  Hierarchy  of  South  America  is  in  sym- 
pathy with  this  great  celebration.  It  is  as  a  religious  reunion  of  all  the 
Americas,  and  I  trust  it  shall  be  but  the  beginning  of  a  still  more  intimate 
union  in  the  future.  We  behold  also  present  a  prelate  representing  Eng- 
land, where  the  first  American  Bishop  spent  much  time  and  received 
Episcopal  consecration,  and  from  which  country  the  first  Catholic  settlers 
of  Maryland  came  with  their  noble  leader,  Lord  Baltimore.  Ireland, 
Germany,  France,  and  other  European  countries  are  well  represented  in 
their  children  and  their  descendants  amongst  prelates,  priests,  and  peo- 
ple. It  is,  in  very  truth,  a  great  historic  Catholic  celebration,  calculated 
to  gladden  the  heart  of  the  present  successor  of  the  founder  of  the  Ameri- 
can Hierarchy,  and  the  inheritor  of  his  spirit  and  virtues,  and  the  hearts 
of  all  his  brother  Bishops  and  their  priests ;  an  occasion  to  gratify  the 
learned  Archbishop  who  represents  here  to-day  the  Roman  Pontiff,  to 
whom  this  young  American  Church  has  ever  been  devoted,  and  to  rejoice 
and  console  the  heart  of  the  great  Pontiff  himself,  when  he  shall  hear  of 
its  success.  It  is  a  celebration  that  ought  to  thrill  every  fibre  of  every 
Catholic  heart  in  the  land,  and  which  ought  to  deeply  interest  thinking 
men  of  all  denominations  or  of  no  denomination. 

Interesting  as  is  the  history  of  the  Church  in  this  New  World,  during 
the  period  that  preceded  the  formation  of  this  Government,  yet  there  are 
special  features  worthy  of  examination  in  her  history  of  the  last  century 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN.  753 

in  these  States.  We  behold  her  unity  and  Catholicity  combined,  adapted 
to  a  state  of  society  new  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

Up  to  that  time  men  generally  legislated  for  a  single  people  of  the 
same  race,  color,  and  nationality.  The  Fathers  of  this  Republic  had  to 
form  a  constitution  and  government  for  people  of  every  race,  language, 
color,  and  nationality  whom  they  foresaw  would  inhabit  this  land.  They 
had  to  combine  a  political  catholicity  with  a  political  unity,  and  to  hold 
the  most  discordant  elements  together  by  force  of  law.  So  also,  before 
the  establishment  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  this  world,  religions  were 
national  in  their  organizations,  though  universal  in  their  fundamental 
principles,  and  were  adapted  to  particular  peoples  of  the  same  race  and 
language.  But  the  Church  was  destined  to  embrace  within  her  govern- 
ment the  peoples  of  every  nation  under  Heaven,  to  combine  the  most 
diverse  elements  in  perfect  unity,  intellectual,  governmental,  and  sacra- 
mental;  and  to  hold  them  there  for  all  time.  And  in  no  one  country  in 
the  world  had  she  to  so  exercise  this  power  as  here,  for  nowhere  else 
were  they  found  together.  The  organization  of  this  government  and  the 
organization  of  the  Church  here  were,  therefore,  striking  and  suggestive 
coincidents.  I  believe  that  before  another  century  shall  have  passed, 
thoughtful  men  will  clearly  see  that  this  wonderful  catholicity  and  unity 
of  the  Church  that  have  survived  the  vicissitudes  and  revolutions  of  nearly 
two  thousand  years,  will  prove  most  powerful  auxiliaries  for  the  perpetua- 
tion of  our  political  union.  In  the  civil  war  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago, 
all  non-Catholic  denominations  separated  into  Northern  and  Southern 
organizations,  and  have  not  yet  healed  the  wounds  of  that  separation. 
The  Catholic  Church  alone  remained  united.  The  Bishops  of  Boston  and 
Charleston  were  members  of  one  national  organization.  The  greater  the 
diversity  of  element  in  a  country  or  a  Church,  the  greater  must  be  the 
unitive  powers  that  keep  them  combined.  In  other  words,  that  religious 
unity  and  catholicity  are  necessary  to  preserve  political  unity  and  catho- 
licity. For  want  of  this  conservative  power  the  Roman  Empire  fell.  Its 
attempted  union  of  all  nations  under  one  government  was  a  failure,  be- 
cause there  was  no  moral  bond  strong  enough  to  repress  those  passions 
that  ever  lead  to  disintegration  and  anarchy. 

Let  us,  dear  Fathers  and  Brethren,  glance  at  the  Church  in  this  coun- 
try during  the  past  century,  and  endeavor  to  understand  its  action  and 
spirit,  under  circurnstances  so  peculiar.  And  by  the  past  we  may  judge 
of  the  yet  more  glorious  future.  As  the  student  of  our  national  history 
in  observing  the  rise  of  the  young  Republic  itself,  naturally  fixes  his  at- 
tention on  the  great  leader  who  embodied  in  himself  the  principles  and 
the  spirit  of  that  period,  and,  from  the  study  of  the  character  of  George 
Washington,  learns  the  genius  of  the  time ;  so  in  our  ecclesiastical  history, 


754  DISCOURSES  FROM    THE  PULPIT. 

we  behold  one  man,  the  first  Catholic  Bishop  of  these  States,  who  em- 
bodied the  spirit  of  that  period,  and  whose  life  and  character  naturally 
present  themselves  in  the  first  place  for  our  consideration  on  this  great 
Centennial  Celebration  of  his  appointment.  Like  Simon  the  High-Priest, 
he  fortified  the  moral  temple  and  enlarged  the  city  of  God  ;  and  as  the 
sun  when  it  shineth,  so  did  he  shine  in  the  temple  of  God,  and  the  bishops 
that  followed  him  have  "  walked  in  his  light  and  in  the  brightness  of  his 
rising." 

The  men  whom  God  destines  as  great  instruments  of  His  providence, 
He  prepares  by  apparently  accidental  causes  for  their  mission.  Dr.  John 
Carroll,  the  son  of  devoted  Irish  Catholic  parents,  inherited  the  deep  faith 
of  his  ancestors.  Destined  to  hold  so  conspicuous  a  place  as  leader  of  the 
American  Church,  he  was  born  in  Maryland  in  1735.  At  the  age  of  fifteen 
he  was  sent  to  the  Jesuit  College  of  St.  Omer's,  in  French  Flanders,  where 
he  met  people  of  various  nationalities,  who  helped  to  enlarge  and  cathol- 
icize his  mind,  without  weakening  his  patriotism.  Here  he  studied  under 
the  admirable  system  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  and  finally  became  a  member 
of  their  society.  Subsequently  he  was  a  professor  of  philosophy  and 
theology  in  their  scholasticate,  and  thus  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  of  a 
thorough  Jesuit  system  of  education  and  religious  training.  To  some  it 
may  appear  that  such  a  training  serves  rather  to  narrow  the  mind,  and 
causes  it  to  move  in  a  certain  fixed  groove ;  that  as  in  civil  society,  the 
individual  must  yield  some  of  his  personal  liberty  for  the  good  of  the 
many,  so  in  a  most  perfect  and  united  society  like  that  of  the  Jesuits  the 
individual  is  almost  lost  in  the  community.  It  is  certainly  the  greatest 
society  in  the  Catholic  Church,  as  a  society,  but  has  not,  it  is  said,  pro- 
duced the  greatest  individuals  in  the  Church's  history,  because  the  greater 
the  society  the  less  the  individual.  Hence  some  would  claim  that  this 
training  v/ould  unfit  a  man  for  the  great  mission  of  founding  the  Ameri- 
can Hierarchy.  But  though  it  may  be  true  that  individual  liberty  is  cur- 
tailed in  the  society,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  it  is  much  less  so  than  is 
generally  imagined,  and  the  fact  that  a  man  is  generally  assigned  to  the 
work  best  adapted  to  his  individual  tastes  and  tendencies  is  more  than 
compensation  for  this  curtailment.  You  cannot  have  a  great  society 
without  great  constituents  of  it,  though  their  individuality  may  not  be 
conspicuous.  No  one  can  question  the  excellence  of  the  religious  train- 
ing of  the  society,  its  deep  but  rational  asceticism,  its  preparation  of  the 
mind  and  soul,  by  solitude  and  humiliation,  for  the  most  exalted  posi- 
tions. There  never  was  a  great  soul  formed  without  such  solitude. 
What  the  wise  man  calls  "  the  fascinato  nugacitatis,"  the  fascination  of 
trifling,  distracts  and  weakens  it.  In  the  deep  solitudes  of  Citeaux  and 
Clairvaux  did  the  soul  of  St.  Bernard,  communing  with  God,  imbibe  that 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN.  755 

wonderful  power,  that  divine  energy  which  afterward  moved  the  world, 
without  disturbing  its  own  peace.  In  the  silence  and  mysterious  com- 
munings of  Manresa  did  the  first  Jesuit,  Ignatius,  lay  the  foundations, 
deep  and  strong  and  enduring,  of  that  active  life  which  he  subsequently 
led,  and  of  the  great  society  which  he  formed.  There  did  he  conceive 
the  plan  and  arrange  the  spiritual  tactics  of  that  army  which  afterward 
fought  so  bravely  and  so  wisely  for  the  Kingdom  of  Christ,  under  the 
standard  of  the  Supreme  King,  in  the  plain  around  Jerusalem — the  New 
Jerusalem  of  the  Church  of  God.  In  solitude  the  soul  realizes  the  vanity 
of  all  things  human,  the  shortness  of  time,  the  greatness  of  eternity,  the 
awful  responsibility  of  power,  especially  where  human  souls  were  con- 
cerned. This  young  American  religious  was  destined  to  stand  on  the 
pinnacle  of  power,  to  be  exalted  above  his  fellows,  and  now  he  has  to  be 
prepared  for  this  bewildering  elevation,  lest,  Lucifer-like,  he  might  grow 
dizzy,  through  pride,  and  fall,  bringing  with  him  many  companions  who 
had  looked  up  to  him  as  their  leader.  The  suppression  of  the  Society  of 
Jesus,  in  1/73,  left  Father  Carroll  a  secular  priest,  and  free  to  return  to 
his  native  country.  The  suppression  caused  him  the  most  intense  grief. 
He  bowed,  however,  with  resignation  to  the  inscrutable  decree  of  Provi- 
dence. He  well  knew  that  no  individual  and  no  society  is  essential  to 
the  Church's  existence ;  that  her  divine  life  will  be  perpetuated,  no  mat- 
ter how  many  of  her  children  fall.  That  glorious  Society  had  for  over 
two  hundred  years  led  the  van  of  the  Christian  army.  Its  suppression 
seemed  an  act  of  suicide,  but  the  power  which  gave  it  life  and  suppressed 
it  called  it  also  to  its  resurrection.  Pope  Pius  VII. — 1814 — just  one  year 
before  the  death  of  Archbishop  Carroll,  re-established  it.  It  was  the 
supreme  dying  consolation  of  the  American  prelate. 

The  suppression  of  his  beloved  Society  had  the  effect  of  bringing  him 
back  to  America,  and  I  cannot  but  think  that  it  predisposed  him  in  favor 
of  that  great  principle  in  the  American  Constitution  which  declared  that 
the  State  should  not  interfere  in  religious  matters.  He  saw  the  influence 
of  State  opposition  to  the  Society,  as  his  letters  express.  If  Church  and 
State  were  harmonious  in  faith  and  practice,  their  union,  when  properly 
regulated,  might  do  good.  But  where  Church  and  State  are  antago- 
nistic in  faith  and  principles,  and  especially  where  there  are  so  many  di- 
verse denominations  as  with  us,  the  American  system  of  leaving  each  or- 
ganization free  to  act  out  its  mission  seems  the  best  one.  Otherwise,  such 
unions  are  like  mixed  marriages  or  marriages  of  convenience.  For  several 
years  previous  to  Dr.  Carroll's  appointment  as  Bishop  of  Baltimore,  the 
question  was  discussed  of  such  an  appointment  to  some  American  city. 
In  1756,  Bishop  Challoner,  then  Vicar-Apostolic  of  the  London  District, 
proposed  Philadelphia  as  the  most  suitable  place,  becjiuse  of  the  freedom 


756  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

enjoyed  by  Catholics  in  Pennsylvania  under  the  influence  of  the  gentle 
spirit  and  laws  of  William  Penn  and  his  followers.  But  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  Maryland  had  still  stronger  claims,  because  of  the  greater 
number  of  Catholics  there,  because  of  her  Catholic  founder  and  his  noble 
stand  for  religious  freedom.  At  the  age  of  40  Dr.  Carroll  returned  to  his 
native  country,  after  twenty-five  years'  residence  in  Europe.  For  fifteen 
years  he  occupied  high  positions  of  trust  here,  and  was  for  some  time 
Prefect-Apostolic.  On  the  6th  of  November,  1789,  he  was  appointed 
first  Bishop  of  Baltimore  and  head  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United 
States.  In  compliance  with  a  promise  made  to  an  English  gentleman, 
Mr.  Weld,  of  Lulworth  Castle,  he  was  consecrated  in  his  domestic  chapel 
by  Bishop  Walmesley,  Vicar-Apostolic  of  the  London  District,  the  Book 
of  the  Gospels  being  held  over  his  shoulders  by  the  son  of  his  friend;  af- 
terward the  distinguished  Cardinal  Weld.  In  a  private  letter  to  Dr. 
Troy,  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  Bishop  Carroll  wrote  that  were  it  not  for 
this  request  and  promise  he  would  have  preferred  the  consecration  to 
have  taken  place  in  America  or  in  Ireland,  the  land  of  his  Catholic  fore- 
fathers. His  consecration  took  place  on  the  15th  of  August,  1790,  the 
Feast  of  the  Assumption  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  under  whose  patronage 
he  placed  the  young  Church  of  these  States.  By  a  remarkable  coinci- 
dence, to-day  is  the  festival  of  that  patronage. 

Bishop  Carroll  was  then  55  years  old.  Twenty-five  years  of  work, 
laborious  and  faithful,  were  still  before  him.  The  spirit  that  animated 
these  memorial  years,  the  sense  of  great  responsibility  and  the  necessity 
of  personal  sanctification  and  incessant  toil,  are  expressed  in  his  inaugural 
address  on  the  occasion  of  his  installment  as  Bishop  in  this  city.  It  was 
the  inaugural  of  the  American  Hierarchy  and  deserves  to  be  heard.  Lis- 
ten to  the  words  as  they  well  up  from  the  heart  of  the  great  first  Ameri- 
can Bishop : 

"  It  is  no  longer  enough  for  me  to  be  inoffensive  in  my  conduct  and 
regular  in  my  manners.  God  now  imposes  a  severer  duty  upon  me.  T 
shall  incur  the  guilt  of  violating  my  pastoral  ofifice  if  all  my  endeavors  be 
not  directed  to  bring  your  lives  and  all  your  actions  to  a  conformity  with 
the  laws  of  God ;  to  exhort,  to  conjure,  to  reprove,  to  enter  into  all  your 
sentiments ;  to  feel  all  your  infirmities ;  to  be  all  things  to  all,  that  I  may 
gain  all  to  Christ ;  to  be  superior  to  human  respect ;  to  have  nothing  in 
view  but  God  and  your  salvation  ;  to  sacrifice  to  these  health,  peace, 
reputation,  and  even  life  itself;  to  hate  sin  and  yet  love  the  sinner;  to 
repress  the  turbulent ;  to  encourage  the  timid ;  to  watch  over  the  con- 
duct of  even  the  ministers  of  religion ;  to  be  patient  and  meek ;  to  em- 
brace all  kinds  of  persons.  These  are  now  my  duties, — extensive,  press- 
ing, and  indispensable  duties ;  these  are  the  duties  of  all  my  brethren  in 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN,  757 

the  episcopacy,  and  surely  important  enough  to  fill  us  with  terror.  But 
there  are  others  still  more  burdensome  to  be  borne  by  me  in  this  particu- 
lar portion  of  Christ's  Church  which  is  committed  to  my  charge,  and  where 
everything  is  to  be  raised,  as  it  were,  from  its  foundation ;  to  establish 
ecclesiastical  discipline ;  to  devise  means  for  the  religious  education  of 
Catholic  youth — that  precious  portion  of  pastoral  soHcitude ;  to  provide 
an  establishment  for  training  up  ministers  for  the  sanctuary  and  the  serv- 
ices of  religion,  that  we  may  no  longer  depend  on  foreign  and  uncertain 
coadjutors  ;  not  to  leave  unassisted  any  of  the  faithful  who  are  scattered 
through  this  immense  continent;  to  preserve  their  faith  untainted  amidst 
the  contagion  of  error  surrounding  them  on  all  sides  ;  to  preserve  in  their 
hearts  a  warm  charity  and  forbearance  toward  every  other  denomination 
of  Christians,  and  at  the  same  time  to  preserve  them  from  that  fatal  and 
prevailing  indifference  which  views  all  religions  as  equally  acceptable  to 
God  and  salutary  to  men.  Ah  !  when  I  consider  those  additional  duties, 
my  heart  sinks  almost  under  the  impression  of  terror  which  comes  upon  it. 
In  God  alone  can  I  find  any  consolation.  He  knows  by  what  steps  I 
have  been  conducted  to  this  important  station  and  how  much  I  have  al- 
ways dreaded  it.  He  will  not  abandon  me  unless  I  first  draw  down  His 
malediction  by  my  unfaithfulness  to  my  charge.  Pray,  dear  brethren, 
pray  incessantly,  that  I  may  not  incur  so  dreadful  a  punishment.  Alas ! 
the  punishment  would  fall  on  you  as  well  as  on  myself;  my  unfaithful- 
ness would  rebound  on  you  and  deprive  you  of  some  of  the  means  of  sal- 
vation." 

This  inaugural  address  has  the  true  ring  in  it,  and  proved  the  pro- 
gramme of  his  future  action.  Though  the  fundamental  principles  that 
govern  all  Bishops  in  the  Church  are  similar,  yet  there  are  adaptations  to 
circumstances  which  will  vary  with  these  circumstances,  and  in  which  the 
individuality  and  wisdom  or  unwisdom  of  each  prelate  become  apparent. 
When  St.  Gregory  the  Great  sent  St.  Augustine  to  preach  Christianity  in 
England  he  charged  him  to  accommodate  himself,  as  much  as  faith  and 
essential  discipline  would  permit,  to  the  circumstances  of  the  new  country 
in  which  he  found  himself.  This  he  accordingly  did,  and  hence  he  was  so 
marvellously  successful.  Bishop  Carroll,  by  a  natural  instinct,  did  the 
same.  He  was  very  broad  and  liberal  in  his  views,  thoroughly  American 
in  his  sentiments,  and  most  charitable  in  his  feelings  toward  those  who 
were  not  of  his  faith ;  but  he  never  strayed  beyond  the  domain  of  true 
Catholic  principles  by  any  false  liberality.  He  knew  and  loved  the 
Church,  and  he  well  understood  that  there  was  no  real  antagonism 
between  the  principles  of  the  new  republican  Government  and  those  of 
the  old  Catholic  Church.  He  knew  that  Church's  power  to  command 
respect  and  obedience  for  authority  and  for  those  who  wielded  it,  and  he 


758  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

knew  how  much  this  would  be  required  in  a  Republic  where  the  maL^is- 
trates,  being  elected  by  the  people,  might  be  less  respected  than  heredi- 
tary kings  born  to  command.  He  understood  how  the  mission  of  the 
new  Government  would  be,  as  I  have  said,  like  the  Church's  own  mission, 
to  combine  Catholicity  with  unity. 

He  had  personal  experience  of  this  combination  in  his  own  priests. 
His  first  Diocesan  Synod  was  held  in  1791,  the  year  after  his  consecration. 
It  consisted  of  only  twenty-one  priests,  but  they  represented  seven  dif- 
ferent nationalities,  not  merely  countries  of  birth,  which  may  be  of  com- 
paratively little  importance  with  people  of  the  same  race,  but  seven 
different  and  somewhat  antagonistic  people — American,  Irish,  English, 
German,  French,  Belgian,  and  Holland — yet  all  acted  in  their  true  char- 
acter of  American  priests  under  his  leadership. 

Bishop  Carroll  was  an  American  patriot  as  well  as  a  Christian  Bishop. 
Love  of  country  and  of  race  is  a  feeling  planted  by  God  in  the  human 
heart,  and,  when  properly  directed,  becomes  a  natural  virtue.  Now  there 
is  a  pernicious  tendency  in  some  minds  to  so  separate  the  natural  from 
the  supernatural  as  to  make  them  appear  antagonistic.  As  reason  comes 
from  God  as  well  as  revelation,  so  also  do  all  the  great  virtues — truthful- 
ness, honor,  courage,  manliness,  from  which  the  very  name  of  virtue  is 
derived,  and  patriotism — spring  up  under  His  fostering  care.  And  as  it 
would  be  wrong  to  regard  the  purely  natural,  ignoring  the  supernatural, 
so  also  is  it  wrong  and  narrow  to  regard  exclusively  the  supernatural 
without  reference  to  that  on  which  it  must  be  based,  and  which,  like 
itself,  is  God's  holy  work,  though  in  an  inferior  order.  Bishop  Carroll's 
patriotism  never  conflicted  with  his  religion,  for  he  always  acted  for  God 
from  a  sense  of  duty,  whether  preaching  the  Gospel  in  Baltimore  or  with 
his  friend,  Benjamin  Franklin,  acting  as  representative  of  the  Colonial 
Government  in  his  mission  to  Quebec. 

The  new  Bishop  thoroughly  appreciated  how  important  for  the 
Church's  progress  as  well  as  for  the  stability  of  the  State  was  the  diffusion 
of  education.  He  knew  that  men  must  be  educated  in  order  to  success- 
fully govern  themselves.  Hence  one  of  his  first  projects  was  to  foster  the 
now  time-honored  institution,  Georgetown  College. 

Of  all  the  false  charges  alleged  against  the  Catholic  Church,  the  most 
senseless  and  unfounded  is  that  she  fears  science  and  is  the  enemy  of 
education.  Her  opponents,  almost  in  the  same  breath,  charge  her  with 
being  the  foe  at  once  and  the  monopolizer  of  education.  They  behold 
her  great  religious  orders  of  men  and  women  devoted  to  the  work  of 
education,  making  more  sacrifices  for  it  than  any  other  body  of  men  and 
women  on  earth,  vowing  at  God's  altar  that  until  they  go  down  into  their 
graves  they  shall  devote  themselves  in  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN,  759 

to  the  great  work  of  educating  the  human  mind  and  heart.  And  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  fear  intellectual  progress,  whether  popular  or  indi- 
vidual, is  the  Catholic.  He  well  knows  that  truth  is  one,  that  God  cannot 
contradict  in  the  revelation  of  Scripture  what  He  exhibits  in  the  revela- 
tion of  science.  Hence  a  man's  fearlessness  of  such  science  will  be  in 
proportion  to  the  certainty  of  his  conviction  of  the  truths  of  revelation. 
If  I  have  only  religious  opinions,  more  or  less  certain,  I  may  fear  that 
some  scientific  truth  will  be  discovered  which  will  show  them  to  be  false ; 
but  if  I  am  absolutely  certain  of  my  religious  faith,  I  feel  perfectly  secure. 
Now  no  one  can  question  the  fact  of  the  certainty  that  exists  in  the  mind  of 
Catholics  that  they  are  dogmatically  right.  This  certainty  is  sometimes 
regarded  as  a  fanaticism  by  religious  skeptics  who  have  not  the  gift  of 
faith.  But  whether  it  be  founded  on  reason  or  fanaticism,  the  fact  is 
there,  and  hence  the  Catholic  Church  has  never  feared  and  can  never  fear 
the  progress  of  science  and  education,  but  has  always  been  their  active 
promoter.  Hence  Bishop  Carroll  simply  acted  in  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Church  when  he  founded  Georgetown  College,  and  the 
Catholic  Bishops  of  the  country  are  now  but  acting  in  the  same  spirit  in 
the  foundation  of  the  Catholic  University  of  America  in  Washington. 
Its  inauguration  very  appropriately  follows  this  centennial  celebration. 
As  to  purely  ecclesiastical  studies,  the  Bishop  deemed  himself  most  fortu- 
nate in  having  the  good  Sulpician  Fathers  to  direct  them.  Though 
loving  intensely  the  Society  of  Jesus,  he  was  too  great  and  broad  a  man 
to  have  any  of  that  exclusive  order  pride  that  would  restrict  perfection 
to  any  organization.  He  saw  the  great  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  His 
Church,  with  its  wonderful  unity  and  variety,  moving  onward  in  its  great 
mission.  The  perfect  spirit  of  the  secular  priesthood  was  exhibited  in  the 
Sulpician,  that  of  the  religious  in  the  Jesuit ;  the  union  of  both  was 
shown  forth  in  laying  the  great  foundation  of  the  Catholic  Church  in 
these  States. 

The  jurisdiction  of  the  new  Bishop  extended  ever  the  entire  country, 
but  he  soon  found  it  impossible,  because  of  the  increase  of  Catholics  and 
the  great  distance  of  the  places  and  diflficulties  of  travel  as  well  as  his 
advanced  age,  to  faithfully  guard  so  scattered  a  flock.  The  Bishops  who 
in  1810  were  appointed  to  aid  him  in  the  great  work  were  apostolic  men 
animated  by  his  own  spirit,  like  the  sainted  Bishop  Flaget,  of  Bardstown  ; 
Egan,  of  Philadelphia;  and  Cheverus,  of  Boston.  It  would  be,  of  course, 
impossible  in  this  discourse  to  give  you  an  adequate  idea  of  the  marvel- 
lous progress  of  religion  during  the  twenty-five  years  of  the  episcopal  life 
of  Archbishop  Carroll.  The  results  are  thus  summed  up  by  our  admira- 
ble Church  historian,  Dr.  Gilmary  Shea : 

"  When  Archbishop  Carroll  resigned  to  the  hands  of  his  Maker  his  life 


760  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

and  the  office  he  had  held  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  the  Church,  fifty 
years  before  so  utterly  unworthy  of  consideration  to  mere  human  eyes, 
had  become  a  fairly  organized  body,  instinct  with  life  and  hope,  throb- 
bing with  all  the  freedom  of  a  new  country.  An  Archbishopric  and  four 
suffragan  sees,  another  diocese  beyond  the  Mississippi,  with  no  endow- 
ments from  princes  or  nobles,  were "  steadily  advancing;  churches,  institu- 
tions of  learning  and  charity,  all  arising  by  the  spontaneous  offerings  of 
those  who,  in  most  cases,  were  manfully  struggling  to  secure  a  livelihood 
or  modest  competence.  The  diocese  of  Baltimore  had  theological  semi- 
naries, a  novitiate  and  scholasticate,  colleges,  convents,  academies, 
schools,  and  a  community  devoted  to  education  and  works  of  mercy. 
The  press  was  open  to  diffuse  Catholic  truth  and  refute  false  or  perverted 
representations.  In  Pennsylvania  there  were  priests  and  churches 
through  the  mountain  districts  to  Pittsburgh,  and  all  was  ripe  for  needed 
institutions.  In  New  York  Catholics  were  increasing  west  of  Albany,  and 
it  had  been  shown  that  a  college  and  an  academy  for  girls  would  find 
ready  support  at  the  episcopal  city,  where  a  Cathedral  had  been  com- 
menced before  the  arrival  of  the  long-expected  Bishop.  In  New  England 
the  faith  was  steadily  gaining  under  the  wise  rule  of  the  pious  and  char- 
itable Bishop  Cheverus.  In  the  West  the  work  of  Badin  and  Nerinckx, 
seconded  and  extended  by  Bishop  Flaget,  was  bearing  its  fruit.  There 
was  a  seminary  for  priests,  communities  of  sisters  were  forming,  and 
north  of  the  Ohio  the  faith  had  been  revived  in  the  old  French  settle- 
ments, and  Catholic  immigrants  from  Europe  were  visited  and  encour- 
aged. Louisiana  had  been  confided  to  the  zealous  and  active  Bishop  Du 
Bourg,  destined  to  effect  so  much  for  the  Church  in  this  country.  Catho- 
licity had  her  churches  and  priests  in  all  the  large  cities  from  Boston  to 
Augusta,  and  Westward  to  St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans,  with  many  in 
smaller  towns;  there  being  at  least  a  hundred  churches  and  as  many 
priests  exercising  the  ministry.  Catholics  were  free ;  the  days  of  penal 
laws  had  departed  ;  professions  were  open  to  them ;  and,  in  rnost  States, 
the  avenue  to  all  public  offices.  In  the  late  war  with  England  they  had 
shown  their  patriotism  on  the  field  and  on  the  waves." 

For  the  seventy-five  years  that  have  passed  since  the  death  of  the  first 
American  Archbishop,  the  Hierarchy  of  the  country,  backed  by  devoted 
priests  and  faithful,  generous  people,  have  continued  the  great  work. 

In  the  Hierarchy  during  these  years  appeared  men  who  were  remark- 
able in  a  new  and  missionary  country,  and  would  have  been  remarkable 
in  any  country  and  age, — men  like  Archbishop  Francis  Patrick  Kenrick, 
of  this  See,  the  greatest  of  our  dead  ecclesiastics,  as  his  brother  of  St. 
Louis  is  the  greatest  among  our  living  ones.  There  were  Bishop  Eng- 
land, Archbishop  Hughes,  Bishop  Michael  O'Connor,  Archbishops  Spald- 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN.  761 

ing  and  Purcell,  and  the  great  apostolic  men — Bishops  Brut6,  Cheverus, 
Flaget,  Timon,  Neumann,  and  Wood.  Nor  should  we  forget  the  gentle, 
eloquent,  and  prudent  first  American  Cardinal — McCloskey — of  New 
York. 

If  I  speak  of  the  episcopate  especially,  it  is  only  because  this  is  the 
centennial  celebration  of  its  establishment.  Otherwise  I  would  not  omit 
the  great  name  of  Monsignor  Corcoran.  I  cannot,  of  course,  forget  that, 
as  generals  cannot  gain  victories  unless  sustained  by  able  officers  and 
soldiers,  neither  could  the  episcopate  of  the  country  unless  the  devoted 
priests,  secular  and  regular,  sustained  them.  The  great  religious  orders 
and  congregations  did  their  noble  work  here.  The  sons  of  St.  Ignatius, 
St.  Francis,  St.  Dominic,  St.  Benedict,  St.  Alphonsus  and  St.  Augustus, 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  St.  Paul  the  Apostle,  and 
others  have  bravely  sustained  the  episcopate,  whilst  the  devoted  secular 
clergy,  who  for  years  endured  untold  labor  and  poverty,  were  the  most 
numerous  and  powerful  of  all  the  actors  in  the  Church's  progress.  We 
rejoice  to  behold  here  to-day  so  many  representatives  of  these  elements 
of  power.  But  what  could  bishops  and  priests  effect  without  you,  "  our 
joy  and  our  crown,"  the  devoted,  generous,  intellectual  laity  of  the  United 
States  ?  To  you  and  yours  God  sent  us.  For  you  and  yours  the  Catholic 
ecclesiastic  makes  every  sacrifice  of  human  ambition  and  human  love. 
These  sacrifices  you  have  appreciated  and  you  have  nobly  sustained  us. 

We  are  glad  to  behold  you  here  to-day  in  such  vast  numbers  and  with 
so  much  genuine  enthusiasm  ;  and  on  this  great  historic  occasion  you 
must  not  be  mere  observers,  but  we  trust  your  representatives  will  speak 
out  freely  and  fearlessly  in  the  Lay  Congress  which  forms  so  interesting 
a  feature  in  this  centennial  celebration.  You  know  how  false  is  the 
charge  of  the  enemies  of  the  Church  that  you  are  priest-ridden. 

It  is  now  time  that  an  active,  educated  laity  should  take  and  express 
interest  in  the  great  questions  of  the  day  affecting  the  Church  and  society. 
I  believe  there  is  not  in  the  world  a  more  devoted  laity  than  we  have  in 
the  Church  of  these  States.  I  find,  too,  that  the  best  educated  amongst 
them,  and  notably  the  converts,  are  sound  on  the  great  questions  of  the 
day  and  loyal  to  the  Church.  We  should  bear  in  mind,  too,  the  great 
work  done  by  the  laity  as  publicists  and  editors  during  the  past  century, 
done  by  men  like  the  great  Dr.  Brownson — for  great  he  certainly  was ;  by 
the  disinterested,  impulsive,  and  talented  McMaster;  the  polished  Dr. 
Huntingdon  ;  by  that  most  devoted  martyr,  as  I  may  term  him,  to  Cath- 
olic journalism,  Patrick  Vincent  Hickey,  of  the  Catholic  Review,  and 
others  whom  time  will  not  permit  mention  in  detail.  By  the  united 
action  of  bishops,  priests,  and  laymen  we  have  results  of  progress  in  the 
last  century  the  statistics  of  which  are  truly  astonishing.     And  what  is 


762  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

particularly  remarkable  is  the  fact  that  in  the  section  of  the  country 
where  opposition  to  the  Church  was  most  deep  and  violent,  the  progress 
was  greatest.  I  allude  to  the  New  England  State's.  Within  the  memory 
of  the  present  Metropolitan  of  Boston — that  is  about  sixty  years  ago — 
New  England  had  but  one  Bishop,  two  priests,  and  two  public  places  of 
worship.  She  has  now  one  Archbishop,  six  Bishops,  942  priests,  and  619 
churches,  with  private  chapels,  colleges,  schools,  and  benevolent  institu- 
tions, and  population  in  proportion.  Those  who  do  not  desire  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Catholic  Church  should  never  persecute  her.  The  general 
statistics  of  the  Church  during  the  century  are,  briefly,  as  follows: 

When  Bishop  Carroll  was  consecrated  in  1790,  the  entire  population 
of  the  United  States  was  a  little  less  than  four  millions — the  Catholic 
population  was  estimated  at  about  forty  thousand ;  thirty  priests  minis- 
tered to  this  scattered  flock.  There  was  not  a  single  hospital  or  asylum 
throughout  the  land.  The  churches  were  only  the  few  modest  houses  of 
worship  erected  in  Catholic  settlements,  chiefly  in  Maryland  and  Penn- 
sylvania. Georgetown  College,  just  then  founded,  was  the  only  Catholic 
seat  of  learning  in  the  countr}'. 

Glance  at  the  present.  The  population  of  the  United  States  has 
grown  within  a  century  from  four  to  sixty-five  millions*  of  people;  the 
progress  of  the  Church  has  more  than  kept  pace  with  the  material  devel- 
opment of  the  country.  There  is  now  embraced  within  the  territory  of 
the  United  States  a  Catholic  population  of  about  nine  millions.  There 
are  thirteen  Archbishops  and  seventy-one  Bishops,  eight  thousand  priests,, 
ten  thousand  five  hundred  churches  and  chapels,  twenty-seven  seminaries 
exclusively  devoted  to  the  training  of  candidates  for  the  sacred  ministry. 
There  are  six  hundred  and  fifty  colleges  and  academies  for  the  higher 
education  of  the  youth  of  both  sexes,  and  three  thousand  one  hundred 
parish  schools.  There  are  five  hundred  and  twenty  hospitals  and  orphan 
asylums.  What  is  of  immense  importance  is  that  her  spirit  has  in  noth- 
ing degenerated.  She  is  alive  to-day  with  a  divine  energy  and  fecundity 
that  will  continue  to  multiply  these  great  results. 

The  remarkable  statistics  quoted  become  marvellous  when  we  con- 
sider the  antagonism  of  the  great  majority  of  the  people  to  the  Catholic 
Church.  The  objections  to  it  were  those  urged  by  the  pagans  in  the 
first  century  of  Christianity — first,  its  supposed  exorbitant  claims  and  ex- 
clusiveness.  Christianity  was  not  content  to  have  its  God  occupy  a  place 
among  the  deities  of  the  Pantheon,  but  declared  that  He,  and  He  alone^ 
was  the  true  God.  This  was  deemed  an  insult  to  the  gods  of  the  Empire. 
Here  was  the  Catholic  Church,  so  few  in  numbers  and  so  weak  in  in- 
fluence, boldly  claiming  that  Christ  established  but  one  Church,  and  that 
all  others   were   simply   human  institutions,  more  or  less  true  in  their 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN.  763 

teachings,  as  they  agreed  or  disagreed  with  her  own.  She  indeed  wished 
freedom  for  all,  but  did  not  for  an  instant  concede  that  all  could  be  true. 
Again,  as  in  pagan  days,  her  perfect  organization  was  feared  as  possibly 
dangerous  to  the  State,  and  the  extraordinary  spectacle  was  exhibited  to 
the  world  of  a  great  and  numerous  political  party,  afraid  to  act  in  open 
day,  and  entering  into  a  secret  society  against  a  handful  of  their  fellow- 
citizens.  But  God  brought  good  out  of  evil.  Few  people  realize  how 
much  indirect  benefit  this  cowardly  opposition  was  to  the  Church  during^ 
the  brief,  inglorious  existence  of  the  party  prophetically  named  at  its 
birth  "  Know  Nothing." 

The  thoughtful  men  of  the  nation  who  opposed  this  party  were 
driven  into  the  ranks  of  the  Church's  defenders.  They  studied  her  his- 
tory and  doctrines.  Important  conversions  and  the  clearing  away  of 
much  ignorance  and  prejudice  were  the  results.  The  civil  war,  which  so 
retarded  the  progress  of  the  nation  and  all  religious  institutions,  includ- 
ing our  own,  and  split  up  all  non-Catholic  denominations  into  Northern 
and  Southern  organizations,  showed  forth,  as  I  have  already  said,  the 
united  power  of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  war  also  exhibited  her  mar- 
vellous and  well-regulated  charity.  Sisters  of  Charity  and  of  Mercy 
ministered  to  the  sick  and  wounded,  irrespective  of  party.  Sisters  of 
Northern  birth  and  principles  nursed  the  Southern  soldiers,  and  Sisters 
of  Southern  birth  and  principles,  whose  brothers  were  fighting  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Confederate  army,  were  found  nursing  their  Northern  foes. 
These  Sisters  acted  as  silent  evangelists  of  the  old  Church.  They  quietly 
revolutionized  popular  opinion  concerning  her.  I  speak  from  experience, 
for  during  the  war  one  of  the  largest  prisons  of  the  country,  known  as 
"  McDowell's  College,"  was  in  my  parish  in  St.  Louis,  and  I  acted  as 
chaplain  to  it  and  to  the  hospital  attached.  There  were  from  a  thousand 
to  twelve  hundred  inmates  frequently  imprisoned  here,  and  I  know  how 
deeply  these  Southern  soldiers  were  affected  by  the  Self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion of  the  Sisters,  who  every  day  came  to  minister  to  and  console 
them.  Very  few  of  these  men  were  Catholics,  and  many  of  them  were 
deeply  hostile  to  the  Church,  yet  the  vast  majority  who  died  in  that 
hospital,  and  a  large  proportion  of  those  who  left  the  prison  (six  hundred 
has  been  considered  a  low  estimate),  received  Catholic  baptism.  They 
believed,  they  said,  that  the  Church  of  these  Sisters  must  be  the  Church 
of  God,  and  so  commenced  their  examination  of  its  doctrines.  The  same 
was  true  of  Southern  prisons,  containing  Northern  soldiers.  The  brave 
men  on  both  sides  who  survived  could  never  afterward  hear  these  Sister- 
hoods insulted  by  ignorant  bigotry.  Hence,  since  the  war,  there  is  a 
great  change  in  popular  sentiment  in  relation  to  the  Catholic  Church.  In 
addition  to  this,  it  must  be  remembered,  Catholics  and  Protestants  now 


^64  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

associate  more  frequently  and  intimately  and  understand  each  other 
better.  Intelligent  Protestants  are  gradually  disabused  of  the  old  notion 
that  the  Catholics  exalt  the  Blessed  Virgin  to  a  position  equal  to  that  of 
the  Son,  that  priests  can  forgive  sins  according  to  their  pleasure,  that 
images  may  be  adored  after  the  fashion  of  the  pagans,  that  the  Bible 
should  not  be  read,  and  other  absurd  supposed  doctrines  and  practices  of 
the  Church.  Because  of  the  enlightenment,  and  because  of  the  high 
character  of  American  converts  in  the  past,  men  like  Dr.  Brownson,  Dr. 
Ives,  Father  Hecker,  and  many,  many  others,  it  is  possible  that  some  of 
the  ablest  defenders  of  the  Church  in  this  coming  century  will  be  men 
who  are  at  present  in  the  ranks  of  her  opponents. 

But,  Fathers  and  brethren,  whilst  we  are  grateful  for  the  blessings  be- 
stowed by  Almighty  God  on  the  young  Church  of  these  States  during 
the  past  century,  whilst  we  unite  in  the  glorious  "  Te  Deum  "  of  grati- 
tude, we  must  also  bear  in  mind  that  there  are  statistics  of  losses  known 
only  to  the  mind  of  God,  that  many  have  fallen  away  by  wilful  neglect  of 
God's  grace,  that  many  have  been  lost  by  mixed  marriages,  that  many 
converts  would  have  entered  the  Church  if  Catholics  had  been  individu- 
ally more  temperate  and  more  edifying.  To-day  we  should  add  to  our 
"  Te  Deums "  our  acts  of  contrition.  I  believe,  also,  that  in  the  last 
century  we  could  have  done  more  for  the  colored  people  of  the  South 
and  the  Indian  tribes.  I  am  not  unmindful  of  the  zeal,  with  limited  re- 
sources for  its  exercise,  of  the  Southern  Bishops,  nor  the  great  self-sacri- 
fice of  Indian  missionaries,  who,  in  the  spirit  of  primitive  Christianity,, 
gave  their  lives  for  the  noble  but  most  unjustly  treated  Indian  tribes. 
But,  as  I  believe,  the  negro  slavery  and  the  unjust  treatment  of  the 
Indians  are  the  two  great  blots  upon  the  American  civilization,  so  I  feel 
that  in  the  Church  also  the  most  reasonable  cause  for  regret  in  the  past 
century  is  the  fact  that  more  could  have  been  done  for  the  same  depend- 
ent classes.  Let  us'now,  in  the  name  of  God,  resolve  to  make  reparation 
for  these  shortcomings  of  the  past. 

A  magnificent  future  is  before  the  Church  in  this  country,  if  we  are 
only  true  to  her,  to  the  country,  and  to  ourselves.  She  has  demonstrated 
that  she  can  live  and  move  onwards  without  State  influence,  that  the  at- 
mosphere of  liberty  is  most  congenial  to  her  constitution,  and  most  con- 
ducive to  her  progress.  Let  us  be  cordially  American  in  our  feelings 
and  sentiments,  and,  above  all,  let  each  individual  act  out  in  his  personal 
life  and  character  the  spirit  of  Catholic  faith. 

On  ourselves  depends  the  future  of  the  Church  in  these  States.  We 
have  an  organization  perfectly  united.  We  have  dogmas  of  religion  that 
give  motive  for  restraint  of  human  passion,  appealing  to  the  fear,  love, 
and  gratitude  of  the  human  soul.     These  dogmas  are  fixed  and  certain, 


ARCHBISHOP  RYAN. 


Y65 


and  hence  so  powerful.  The  Church  is  alive,  with  the  Spirit  of  God  at 
its  very  soul.  As  she  enters  on  this  second  century  of  her  great  mis- 
sion here,  let  us  renew  our  spiritual  allegiance  to  her,  let  us  ever 
glory  in  being  her  children,  and  endeavor  to  prove  ourselves  worthy  of 
the  name. 

And  do  thou,  O  Eternal  and  Most  Sacred  God,  who  a  century  ago 
blessed  this  infant  Church  then  persecuted,  "  this  poor  little  one  tossed 
with  tempest  and  without  all  comfort,  and  placed  her  stones  in  order  and 
her  foundations  in  sapphire,"  oh,  bless  her  again  to-day,  as  she  enters  on 
her  second  century  of  apostolic  mission !  Send  down  wisdom  that  sitteth 
by  Thy  throne  to  illuminate  the  intellects  of  her  Pontiffs,  Priests,  and 
people !  Send  forth  Thy  Spirit  that  it  may  brood  over  the  troubled 
waters  and  the  moral  chaos  of  this  age,  and  restore  peace  and  order  in 
human  hearts  and  human  society.  Oh,  give  to  this  fresh  young  Church 
the  spirit  of  primitive  Christianity,  its  courage,  its  mortification,  its  indif- 
ference to  money,  and  cause  it  to  conquer  the  bold,  aggressive  paganism 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  its  prototype  crushed  the  paganism  of  the 
first.     Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.    Amen. 


SERMON  ON  ST.  AGNES, 

Preached  in  St.  Agnes'  Church,  New  York,  January  26,  1890. 
BY  REV.  HENRY  A.  BRANN,  D.D. 


"  But  by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am ;  and  His  grace  in  me  hath  not  been 
void." — I  Cor.  xv.  10. 

T  is  now  almost  sixteen  hundred  years  since  the  little  girl  whom 
we  honor  and  invoke  to-day  was  beheaded.  It  was  the  dread- 
ful year  of  our  Lord  three  hundred  and  three,  in  the  darkest 
hour  of  the  tenth  persecution  in  the  reign  of  the  despot  Dio- 
cletian. Christian  churches  were  closed,  Christian  property  confiscated  ; 
priest,  bishop,  and  pontiff  pined  in  dungeons  or  lay  hid  in  caves,  and  the 
faithful  were  hunted  like  wild  beasts.  The  tigers  in  the  amphitheatre 
grew  fat  on  the  bodies  of  martyrs.  In  every  town  and  city  of  the  Ro- 
man empire,  from  Gaul  to  Asia  Minor,  the  smoke  and  flame  of  the  funeral 
pyre  obscured  the  skies,  and  the  sound  of  the  executioner's  axe  rang  out 
on  the  frightened  air.  Seventeen  thousand  of  the  followers  of  Christ  were 
put  to  death  in  one  month.  The  desolation  described  by  the  prophet 
reigned  throughout  the  fold  of  Christ :  "  How  hath  the  Lord  covered  with 
obscurity  the  daughter  of  Sion  in  His  wrath  !  how  hath  He  cast  down  from 
heaven  to  the  earth  the  glorious  one  of  Israel."  The  wjiole  machinery 
of  Roman  law  and  imperial  power  was  used  in  one  great  brutal  effort  to 
destroy  the  Church,  who  sat  like  "  Rachel  bewa'iling  her  children,  and 
would  not  be  comforted,  because  they  are  not."  Unlike  Rachel,  however, 
she  was  conscious  of  an  immortal  life  that  no  human  power  could  de- 
stroy. 

Of  all  the  victims  of  that  dreadful  persecution  none  has  been  more 
honored  than  the  holy  child  who  is  the  patroness  of  this  parish.  The 
early  fathers  and  learned  theologians  of  all  times  have  deemed  her  worthy 
of  their  pens,  poets  have  sung  her  virtues  in  canticles  of  praise,  beautiful 
temples  have  been  dedicated  to  her  honor  and  have  perpetuated  her  fame. 
(766) 


J^tdcnt  l^ouc. 


FATHER  BR  ANN.  767 

In  this  very  church  the  sweetest  notes  of  voice  and  instrument  echo  her 
name,  and  year  after  year  from  this  spot  eloquence  has  told  the  story  of 
the  sublime  and  supernatural  life  of  Agnes.  Let  us  endeavor  this  morn- 
ing, my  brethrep,  to  recount  her  virtues  and  draw  from  them  practical 
lessons  for  our  own  spiritual  good. 

The  thought  that  arises  naturally  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  of  her 
short  and  simple  life,  as  told  in  the  acts  of  her  martyrdom,  is  that  she 
was  a  miracle  of  grace.  We  know  that,  according  to  St.  Thomas,  the 
word  miracle  is  properly  applied  only  to  those  works  of  God  which  ex- 
ceed the  forces  or  are  contrary  to  the  laws  of  physical  nature.  We  know 
also  that  in  the  spiritual  order  it  is  often  hard  to  tell  where  the  divine  be- 
gins and  the  human  ends,  so  perfectly,  at  times,  are  the  two  elements  in 
accord.  But  there  are  extraordinary  facts  in  the  spiritual  order,  in  which 
we  can  find  nothing  human  except  the  substance  which  underlies  them  ; 
there  are  lives  in  which  the  divine  power  seems  to  take  completely  the 
place  of  nature,  subdue  human  impulses  and  passions,  and  produce  effects 
contrary  to  them.  These  results  may  be  called  miracles  of  grace.  '  Such 
a  life  was  that  of  St.  Paul,  once  the  fierce  persecutor,  then  changed  into 
the  zealous  apostle,  who,  after  his  conversion,  speaks  of  himself  in  the 
words  of  my  text :  "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am,  and  His  grace 
in  me  hath  not  been  void  ";  and  again,  elsewhere,  he  says :  **  If  by  grace 
it  is  not  now  by  works,  otherwise  grace  is  no  more  grace."  Such  a  life 
was  that  of  St.  Agnes,  to  whom  the  same  texts  fitly  apply.  For  whether 
we  consider  her  virginity  or  her  martyrdom,  or  their  logical  outcome,  the 
worship  which  she  receives  in  the  Christian  Church,  we  find  three  facts  in 
which  there  is  nothing  human  ;  three  facts  contrary  to  the  ordinary  laws 
of  human  nature ;  three  miracles  of  the  moral  order,  which  prove  the 
divinity  of  Christ  and  His  Church  almost  as  forcibly  as  the  miracles  of  the 
physical  order  recorded  in  the  Bible.  I  need  not  ask  you,  my  brethren, 
to  give  me  your  attention  this  morning,  while  I  briefly  examine  these 
three  miracles  and  their  consequence.  You  are  the  clients  and  admirers 
of  St.  Agnes.  Your  devotion  to  her  will  make  amends  for  my  short- 
comings. Sweet  saint,  obtain  for  me  the  grace  to  do  justice  to  thy  fame 
and  to  the  Holy  Faith  for  which  thou  didst  pour  out  thy  virgin  blood  ! 

Virginity,  my  brethren,  does  not  consist  in  bodily  integrity,  but  in  ab- 
solute mental  purity  and  the  fixed  purpose  to  preserve  it.  St.  Cyprian 
calls  virgins  the  "  blossom  of  ecclesiastical  seed,  the  glory  and  ornament 
of  spiritual  grace,  the  noblei^part  of  the  flock  of  Christ."  "Who,"  says 
the  great  St.  Ambrose,  the  panegyrist  of  St.  Agnes,  "  can  esteem  any 
beauty  greater  than  the  splendor  of  virginity,  which  is  loved  by  the  king, 
approved  by  the  judge,  dedicated  to  the  Lord,  consecrated  to  God." 
Such  was  the  beauty  of  Agnes,  for  she  is  counted  among  those  who  "  fol- 


768  DISCOURSES  FROM  THE  PULPIT. 

low  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth,"  and  "  sing  a  new  canticle  befone 
the  throne,"  which  no  one  else  can  sing. 

St.  Agnes  had  made  a  solemn  vow  of  virginity,  the  most  perfect  and 
the  most  heroic  of  all  the  sacrifices  that  have  purity  for  their  object.  She 
had  thus  consecrated  her  soul  and  body  to  Jesus  Christ,  whom  in  the 
whole  course  of  her  trial  she  calls  her  Spouse,  to  the  wonder  of  the 
judge  and  the  anger  and  the  jealousy  of  her  pagan  lover,  who  could 
not  understand  her.  Her  answer  to  his  entreaties  was  that  she  was 
pledged  for  life  to  Him  **  whose  ministers  are  angels,"  to  One  "  whose 
power  is  greater,  whose  aspect  is  more  charming,  whose  love  is  sweeter^ 
whose  grace  is  more  ravishing  than  any  one  to  whom  He  could  be  com- 
pared ";  to  Him  ^  at  whose  touch  the  sick  are  healed,  and  by  the  odor  of 
whose  virtue  the  dead  are  awakened."  By  this  vow  she  sacrificed  the 
right  even  to  lawful  pleasures,  and  put  herself  in  opposition  to  every  pas- 
sion and  appetite  of  human  nature.  No  wonder  that  her  pagan  judge, 
her  pagan  lover,  and  her  pagan  audience  thought  the  young  enthusiast 
insaner  They  could  not  understand  Christian  self-abnegation.  She 
could  have  been  dispensed  from  the  vow,  and  every  means  was  used  to 
change  her  purpose.  Her  wooer,  Procopius,  offered  her  lawful  marriage. 
His  friends  and  his  father  seconded  his  suit.  He  was  the  son  of  the  pre- 
fect of  Rome — t'he  highest  judge  in  the  city,  except  the  emperor.  Pro- 
copius was  young  and  handsome.  He  appealed  to  every  motive  that  has 
influence  in  the  human  heart — to  ambition,  natural  cupidity,  and  sympa- 
thy. He  offered  her  great  wealth,  a  palace,  high  rank,  and  the  love  of  a 
devoted  heart.  Where  is  the  woman  of  the  world  who  would  have  re- 
fused such  an  offer  of  marriage  ?     Was  not  the  refusal  of  Agnes  divine  ? 

We  know  that  even  the  ordinary  forms  of*  continence  are  impossible 
without  divine  grace,  for  the  inspired  wise  man  says :  "  I  could  not  other- 
wise be  continent,  except  God  gave  it."  The  proof  of  this  statement  is 
found  in  every  page  of  history  and  of  literature,  ancient  and  modern, 
pagan  and  Christian.  The  Bible  declares  it  from  the  Sodom  of  Lot  to  the 
Jerusalem  of  the  days  of  Herod ;  from  Dalila  to  Herodias,  from  the  po- 
lygamous patriarchs  to  the  adulterous  David  and  Solomon.  Even  the 
Mosaic  code,  the  purest  of  antiquity,  tolerated  polygamy  on  account  of 
the  hardness  of  Hebrew  hearts.  Oriental  paganism  proves  it  in  the  wor- 
ship of  the  headless  Venus  Astaroth  ;  Grecian  and  Roman  paganism  prove 
it  by  placing  a  libertine  at  the  head  of  the  College  of  Gods  on  Olympus ; 
that  Jupiter,  of  whom  Juvenal  sarcastically  ftiys : 

"  Quam  ntultas  matres  fecerit  ille  Deus'* 

The  literature  of  paganism,  its  comedies  and  satires  ;  the  public  and 
private  life  of  ancient  Athens  and  of  Rome,  and  their  legislation,  reek 
with  the  foul  odors  of  universal  sensuality.     It  is  true  that  Rome  had  its 


FATHER  BR  ANN.  Y69 

vestal  virgins,  but  there  were  only  six  of  them  at  a  time  in  the  'vhole 
empire,  chosen  before  they  were  ten  years  of  age,  so  young  that  they 
were  not  competent  to  make  a  choice,  even  if  they  had  been  allowed  to 
do  so.  They  were  held  in  absolute  bondage,  and,  by  fear  of  the  most 
dreadful  punishment,  forced  to  celibacy  until  they  were  forty,  when  they 
were  free  to  marry.  Their  enforced  chastity  was  only  external,  and  was 
no  proper  symbol  of  the  purity  of  Agnes,  whose  soul,  by  her  own  delib- 
erate choice,  had  become  the  domicile  of  her  divine  Spouse.  Judged  by 
the  Roman  standard  of  that  day  and  by  the  laws  of  climate,  she  was  a 
mature  woman  when  she  made  her  vow,  an  act  of  heroic  self-sacrifice 
honored  in  that  Church  alone  to  whose  jewelled  crown  Agnes  adds  the 
splendor  of  her  virtue.  Even  the  Christian  sects  sneer  at  the  vow  of 
virginity.  Their  founder  condemned  it,  and  asserted  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  human  nature  to  keep  it.  By  his  teaching  and  his  practice  he 
revived  the  pagan  idea  in  regard  to  it ;  and  the  divorce  laws  of  the  mod- 
ern State,  as  well  as  the  erotic  tendency  of  certain  schools  of  modern  art^ 
literature,  and  drama,  are  the  natural  consequence  of  his  loose  doctrine 
and  a  further  proof  of  the  inherent  concupiscence  of  human  nature,  and 
that  the  virginity  of  an  Agnes  is  a  purely  divine  gift.  To  no  temptation 
would  she  yield.  As  well  expect  the  northern  blast  to  melt  the  icicle  as 
for  human  love  to  thaw  her  snow-like  purity.  It  was  the  divinity  within 
that  hedged  her  virginity  from  every  blight.  Can  human  nature  of  itself 
produce  so  fair  a  flower?  Ye  false  creeds,  have  ye  borne  one  tender 
bloom  like  unto  this  ?  No  !  it  is  divine  ;  planted  by  the  hand  of  God 
and  watered  by  His  grace.  It  grows  only  in  one  soil,  the  soil  of  the 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  flourishes  oniiy  in  one  garden,  the  garden  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  Agnes  and  her  imitators  are  the  exclusive  property  of 
that  Church,  which  is  hated  because  she  makes  war  on  the  flesh,  and 
which  bids  sensual  humanity  bow  the  knee  in  homage  before  the  altar  of 
the  immaculate  queen  of  virgins.  The  unconquerable  virginity  of  Agnes 
is  a  divine  effect  which  proves  the  divinity  of  the  cause,  the  faith  and 
grace  of  Jesus  Christ.  By  that  grace  she  was  what  she  was,  and  it  was 
not  void  in  her. 

If  we  consider  next  the  martyrdom  of  Agnes,  the  proof  of  its  divine 
character  is  equally  strong.  That  martyrdom  was  a  complete  work  of 
grace.  As  the  soldier  who  dies  for  his  country  shows  his  patriotism,  so 
does  the  Christian  martyr  prove  his  faith  in  Christ.  "  O  blessed  mar- 
tyrs "  exclaims  St.  Cyprian,  "  with  what  words  shall  I  praise  ye  ;  oh, 
bravest  soldiers,  how  shall  I  extol  the  fortitude  of  your  hearts  ! "  Yet 
not  every  martyrdom  is  a  proof  of  truth,  my  dear  brethren,  but  only  that 
which  proceeds  from  Christian  faith  and  charity.  Only  where  divine 
truth  and  divine  love  are  the  sources  of  the  martyr's  constancy  under 


770  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

torture  and  in  death,  is  he  a  true  witness  for  the  faith.  Men  have 
suffered  death  for  erroneous  opinions,  through  pride  or  natural  obsti- 
nacy, but  such  are  unlike  the  martyrs  of  Christ.  "  If  I  should  deliver 
my  body  to  be  burned  and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing," 
says  St.  Paul.  "  The  mother  of  martyrdom,"  says  one  of  the  fathers, 
*'  is  Catholic  faith,  to  which  illustrious  athletes  have  subscribed  with 
their  blood."  Martyrdom  is  the  most  perfect  act  of  the  greatest  of 
the  moral  virtues,  obedience  ;  for  it  is  like  that  of  Christ,  obedience  even 
unto  death.  It  is  also  the  most  perfect  act  of  the  chief  of  the  theological 
virtues,  charity  ;  for  it  is  the  sacrifice  to  God  of  all  that  man  holds  most 
dear,  the  sacrifice  of  life  itself.  Nothing  does  man  dread  more  than 
physical  torments  and  death,  "  the  fear  of  which,"  says  St.  Augustine, 
*'  deters  even  brute  animals  from  the  greatest  pleasures."  Yet  the  mar- 
tyr despises  torture  and  death  through  love  of  Christ.  "  The  charity  of 
Christ,"  says  St.  Maximus,  "  conquers  in  His  martyrs."  "  Greater  love 
than  this  no  man  hath,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends,"  says 
our  Lord.  The  martyr  is,  therefore,  the  special  friend  and  lover  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Hence,  the  fathers  teach,  in  commenting  on  the  parable  of  the 
sower,  that  martyrdom  is  the  greatest  act  of  the  love  of  God,  and  that 
the  good  ground  which  brings  forth  one  hundred  fold  is  martyrdom. 
"  The  hundred  fold,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  is  the  merit  of  the  martyrs, 
as  the  sixtieth  is  the  merit  of  the  virgins,  and  the  thirtieth  of  those  who 
are  married."  Thus  the  martyrdom  of  Agnes  was  more  meritorious  even 
than  her  virginity.  But  when  we  consider  that  martyrdom  in  all  its 
details,  we  are  forced  to  exclaim,  was  ever  martyr,  since  Christ,  like  unto 
this  ;  was  ever  such  fortitude,  such  fearless  contempt  of  death,  such  sub- 
lime love  of  Jesus  Christ  I  A  little  girl  is  dragged  through  the  streets  of 
Rome  into  the  court  of  the  Roman  prefect.  What  is  her  offense  ?  Can 
it  be  that  this  young  and  beautiful  girl  has  committed  some  terrible 
crime  ?  No  ;  the  sole  charge  against  her  is  that  she  is  a  Christian,  and 
to  be  a  Christian  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Roman  law,  to  be  a  foe  of  the 
gods  and  a  traitor  to  the  State.  It  is  the  same  old  charge,  my  brethren, 
against  the  Church.  The  Roman  emperors,  like  many  more  recent  rulers, 
charged  her  with  being  disloyal  because  she  thwarted  their  tyranny. 
They  persecuted  her  as  an  enemy  of  the  empire,  when  she  was  the  very 
salt  that  would  have  saved  it  from  decay.  The  modern  State  persecutes 
her  on  the  same  false  supposition.  Her  only  offense  is,  that  she  will  not, 
like  all  human  creeds,  "  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee,  that  thrift 
may  follow  fawning";  but  stands  erect,  defending  true  liberty  of  con- 
science, holding  aloft  the  banner  of  spiritual  independence  which  she  will 
never  lower  either  for  hereditary  despot  or  for  the  fickle  mob  crowrci 
majority  of  a  republic. 


FATHER  BR  ANN.  771 

There  sits  the  judge  Symphronius,  who  is  also  the  father  of  Procopius, 
the  wooer  of  Agnes.  Near  by  are  ranged  the  statues  of  the  gods  and  of  the 
emperor,  to  which  all  but  Christians  paid  idolatrous  worship.  The  pagan 
priests  are  there,  with  censers,  ready  for  those  who  would  offer  incense. 
In  a  corner  burns  the  fire  near  the  statue  of  Vesta,  to  which  Agnes  is  to 
be  asked  to  pay  homage.  The  court-room  is  filled  with  the  enemies  of 
the  Christian  name.  If  they  were  not  brutalized  by  pagan  superstition 
and  bigotry,  the  youth  and  beauty  of  this  fair  child  would  move  them  all 
to  sympathy.  She  has,  indeed,  some  friends  and  admirers  in  the  crowd, 
but  they  are  cowed  by  her  arrest.  The  mere  charge  of  Christianity 
against  any  one  meant  a  threat  of  confiscation  of  goods,  and  death.  The 
accused  Christian  was  shunned  as  if  he  had  a  contagious  disease.  Besides, 
interference  would  have  been  useless,  for  the  Roman  law  against  Chris- 
tianity was  as  inexorable  as  fate.  In  the  centre  stands  Agnes,  like  an 
angel  just  descended  from  the  skies,  her  eyes  clear  and  lustrous  as  twin 
stars  on  a  frosty  night,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  the  bloom  of  virginal 
innocence,  like  opening  roses,  her  lips  parted  in  prayer,  and  her  two 
hands — so  tiny  that  no  fetters  could  be  found  small  enough  to  bind 
them — her  two  hands,  like  two  fair  lilies,  clasped  together  in  supplication, 
not  to  the  earthly  judge,  whom  she  did  not  dread,  but  to  the  Supreme 
Judge,  whom  she  feared  and  loved.  To  this  Judge,  "  whom  no  king 
can  corrupt,"  to  whom  the  whole  Roman  empire  was  less  important  than 
the  honor  of  the  little  girl  who  was  His  special  ward,  she  now  appealed 
for  justice  and  protection.  Symphronius  at  first  tried,  by  gentle  means, 
to  induce  Agnes  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods  and  marry  his  son.  Twice,  three 
times,  did  he  summon  her  before  him,  after  giving  her  time  for  reflection, 
and  use  every  means  of  persuasion,  intermingling  flattery  with  threats, 
the  intercession  of  friends  with  the  menaces  of  the  law.  But  in  vain.  The 
judge,  at  length,  lost  patience.  He  could  be  kind  no  longer  without  being 
suspected  of  disloyalty  to  the  gods  himself.  He  ordered  her  to  sacrifice 
to  Vesta,  the  patroness  of  the  so-called  vestal  virgins.  She  refused  to  wor- 
ship what  she  called  a  deaf-and-dumb  idol,  a  vain  bit  of  stone.  This  defi- 
ance roused  the  bigotry  and  the  false  patriotism  of  the  Roman  judge.  His 
paganism  made  him  both  cruel  and  brutal.  Now,  what  was  his  sentence  ? 
*'  Let  me  not  name  it  to  you,  you  chaste  stars."  Hang  down  your  heads 
in  shame  for  human  depravity,  ye  Christians  !  and  ye  men  of  the  world, 
blush  for  one  of  the  most  horrible  crimes  ever  committed  by  one  of  your 
sex.  What  was  the  sentence  of  a  pagan  judge  upon  a  little  girl  whose  only 
fault  was  that  she  would  not  sacrifice  her  purity  or  adore  a  piece  of  inan- 
imate clay?  "Let  her  be  condemned  for  life  to  a  public  brothel." 
And  the  pagan  crowd  was  silent.  There  was  not  a  murmur.  The  Ro- 
man law  authorized  the  sentence  ;  Roman  paganism  sanctioned  the  ex- 


772  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

ecrable  punishment.  Where  was  the  old  Roman  virtue  then  ?  Was 
there  no  descendant  of  Lucretia  there  ?  No  son  of  that  Roman  matron 
who  plunged  the  dagger  into  her  heart  at  remorse  for  the  forced  desecra- 
tion of  the  temple  of  her  body  ?  Was  there  no  descendant  of  Virginius 
there,  who  drove  the  knife  into  his  daughter's  bosom  rather  than  see  her 
dishonored  by  a  Roman  official  ?  Where  were  the  sons  of  Scipio  the  Con- 
tinent ?  Where  were  those  old  Romans  who  expelled  the  kings  for  just 
such  outrages  as  this  ?  Not  a  man  lifted  his  voice  or  his  arm  in  protest. 
One  would  think  that  at  least  Procopius,  her  lover,  touched  by  her  mis- 
ery, would  have  had  manhood  enough  to  defend  her  from  such  an  insult. 
But  no  !  On  the  contrary,  he  exulted  in  her  shame,  and,  with  a  crowd  of 
libertines,  followed  her  to  the  house  of  ill-fame.  His  conduct  proved, 
my  brethren,  that  pagan  love  is  but  another  name  for  the  most  brutal 
sensuality.  The  old  empire  was  rotting.  Old  Roman  virility  had  disap- 
peared, and  paganism  had  destroyed  conscience,  virtue,  and  liberty.  The 
measure  of  Roman  iniquity  was  full,  and  Divine  Providence  was  loosen- 
ing from  the  leash  the  wild  barbarians  of  the  north,  to  send  them  in  fury 
at  their  sickening  quarry,  "  Arjse,  ye  Goths,  and  glut  your  ire  !  "  In 
the  face  of  such  a  decree  as  this  of  Symphronius,  how  could  Gibbon 
regret  the  triumph  of  Christianity  over  Roman  paganism  ?  With  such  a 
black  mark  on  his  brow,  how  can  any  infidel  extol  it  for  the  purpose  of 
lowering  Christianity  in  public  esteem  ?  Why,  my  brethren,  the  most 
depraved  king  or  mob  of  Christian  times  has  never  done  anything  so  vile 
as  this  Roman  judge  did  with  the  sanction  of  imperial  law.  If  any  king 
or  emperor  or  judge  should  now  pass  such  a  sentence,  there  is  enough  of 
Christian  manliness  left  in  the  heart  of  even  an  apostate  mob  to  rise  in 
mutiny  and  destroy  the  man  or  the  system  that  would  authorize  such 
brutality.  Public  opinion  is  still  Christian,  even  though  it  have  an  infidel 
environment.  Such  has  been  the  pervading  influence  of  Christianity  on 
public  morals,  that  even  infidels  are  dominated  by  it,  and  cannot  escape 
its  control. 

"  Let  her  be  condemned  for  life  to  a  public  brothel !  "  For  a  moment 
the  child  staggers ;  a  shiver  of  fear,  like  an  almost  imperceptible  wave, 
passes  over  her  graceful  and  fragile  form.  Her  cheeks  flush  with  the 
shame  of  offended  modesty.  But  it  is  only  the  momentary  weakness  of 
terrified  maidenhood  in  view  of  the  infamy  to  which  she  was  to  be  sub- 
jected. The  divine  in  her  reaffirms  its  power.  Her  Heavenly  Spouse 
adds  to  her  new  strength  and  grace.  She  knows  that  no  harm  can  come 
to  her  without  His  permission.  They  shamelessly  stripped  her  of  her 
clothing,  as  the  King  of  Virgins  had  been  stripped  before  being  scourged 
at  the  pillar ;  but  the  celestial  armorer  of  Christ,  St.  Michael,  instantly 
covered  her  with  a  dazzling  and  impenetrable  robe  that  protected  her 


FATHER  BR  ANN.  Y73 

from  the  vulgar  gaze,  and  blinded  those  who  dared  to  approach  her.  The 
vile  Procopius,  who  advanced  toward  her,  was  struck  down  at  her  feet  as 
if  by  lightning.  Her  cruel  judge  then  recognized  her  power  and  im- 
plored her  to  restore  his  son  to  life.  She  knelt  and  prayed,  and  her  pagan 
lover  arose,  purified  and  converted  to  Christ.  But  the  pagan  mob  and 
the  pagan  priests  were  only  the  more  enraged  when  they  saw  her  miracu- 
lous power.  They  were  in  open  sedition,  and  cried  the  louder  for  the 
blood  of  one  whom  they  looked  upon  as  a  sorceress.  Her  judge,  too  ter- 
rified by  the  fate  of  his  son  to  persecute  her  further,  and  yet  too  cow- 
ardly to  let  her  go  free  in  opposition  to  the  will  of  the  mob,  transferred 
her  case  to  his  unscrupulous  lieutenant,  Aspasius.  This  man  condemned 
her  to  be  burned  alive.  The  fire  was  lighted.  Agnes  could  still  save  her- 
self by  apostasy.  One  grain  of  incense  offered  to  the  false  gods  would 
have  set  her  free.  But  her  fortitude  was  divine.  She  mounted  the  pyre 
and  stood  praying,  with  arms  extended,  among  the  flames,  like  a  white 
consecrated  host  in  the  centre  of  a  golden  chalice.  The  flames  refused 
to  touch  her  sacred  flesh.  Still  "  the  Gentiles  raged  and  the  people  de- 
vised vain  things."  Blinded  by  pagan  superstition,  they  attributed  her 
miraculous  power  to  magic,  and,  although  the  fire  went  out  without  singe- 
ing even  a  hair  of  her  head,  they  still  demanded  her  life.  Aspasius,  to  ap- 
pease the  people  and  obey  the  law,  then  ordered  that  she  should  be  be- 
headed. She  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon  and  loaded  with  chains.  At 
last,  to  satisfy  the  longing  of  her  heart,  her  Omnipotent  Spouse,  who  had 
sufficiently  shown  His  power  by  protecting  her  from  insult  and  from  the 
flames,  decreed  that  she  should  "  be  dissolved  and  be  with  Christ."  The 
executioner  presents  himself  before  her  with  a  drawn  sword.  Does  she 
shrink?  does  she  show  weakness?  No,  my  brethren.  With  the  light  of 
heroism  in  her  eye,  and  on  her  lips  a  smile  as  sweet  and  soft  as  a  ray  of 
sunlight  on  a  bank  of  violets,  she  advances  to  the  very  edge  of  the  flash- 
ing sword  and  exclaims :  "  Oh,  what  happiness !  Strike !  behold  my 
bosom.  Let  your  sword  pierce  to  the  very  bottorn  of  my  heart.  Spouse 
of  Christ  as  1  am,  I  shall  thus  escape  from  the  darkness  of  earth  and  rise 
to  the  abode  of  light."  Then  she  laid  her  head  upon  the  block  that  was, 
indeed,  to  be  her  bridal  pillow.  The  executioner,  with  a  single  stroke, 
freed  from  earth  her  soul,  that  flew  quick  as  the  lightning  flash,  straight 
to  the  very  centre  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Now,  is  not  this  fortitude  of  Agnes  above  the  human,  and  contrary  to 
it  ?  Consider  her  age  and  her  sex,  and  the  timidity  which  is  natural  to  both 
of  them.  She  stood  dauntless  in  the  face  of  dangers  that  would  have 
made  even  a  strong  man  grow  pale  with  fear.  She  could  have  avoided  all 
of  them  by  doing  a  legitimate  act,  by  accepting  an  honorable  offer  of 
marriage.     For,  had  she  done  so,  the  prefect  was  powerful  enough  to  save 


774  DISCOURSES  FROM   THE  PULPIT. 

her  from  the  accusation  of  being  a  Christian.  But  neither  the  frowns  nor  the 
smiles  of  the  judge,  the  shouts  of  the  angry  mob,  the  weight  of  fetters,  the 
darkness  of  the  dungeon ;  neither  the  scorching  flames  nor  the  sharp-edged 
sword  could  make  her  swerve  from  loyalty  to  her  vow,  or  devotion  to  her 
■  faith.  She  died  a  miracle  of  grace  not  explicable  by  anything  in  nature.  Her 
martyrdom  was  a  complete  supernatural  work,  a  divine  effect  proving  the 
divinity  of  the  cause  that  produced  it ;  the  faith  and  charity  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Finally,  my  dear  brethren,  our  devotion  to  St.  Agnes  is  supernatural, 
and  also  proves  the  divinity  of  the  faith  of  which  it  is  the  logical  conse- 
quence. Consider  for  a  moment  the  causes  and  the  circumstances  of  this 
devotion.  Do  we  worship  Agnes  because  she  possessed  some  extraordi- 
nary natural  quality,  or  because  she  did  some  great  deed  in  the  natural 
order  for  her  country  or  her  fellow-men  ?  No  !  It  is  true  that  her  youth, 
her  innocence,  and  her  beauty  excite  our  sympathy  and  arouse  our  poetic 
and  aesthetic  sentiment,  as  would  the  lustre  of  a  jewel  or  the  perfume  and 
color  of  a  rare  flower.  Our  natural  emotion  in  contemplating  her  is  like 
that  which  we  experience  in  listening  to  the  first  song  of  the  birds  in 
Spring,  in  looking  at  the  first  blossoms  of  the  orchards  in  May,  or  in  walk- 
ing through  a  grove  after  a  summer  shower,  when  the  boughs  on  every 
tree  are  glistening  with  diamond  drops  of  rain  ;  a  natural  feeling  like  to 
that  which  thrills  the  heart  of  the  traveller  on  the  Alps  when  he  finds  a 
flower  among  the  ice  and  eternal  snow^  or  like  that  which  wreathes  in 
smiles  the  face  of  a  mother  when  she  hears  for  the  first  time  the  prattle 
of  her  first-born.  But  this  poetic  sentiment  never  makes  us  kneel  down 
and  worship,  or  invoke  the  object  that  arouses  it.  These  emotions  are 
mere  pleasant  evanescent  sensations  and  not  acts  of  religion.  Agnes 
never  lived  long  enough  to  show  forth  any  great  mental  gift,  even  if  she 
had  been  endowed  with  it.  She  can  be  classed  with  none  of  those  women 
who  have  been  great  in  the  State  or  in  the  Church.  She  was  not  a  clever 
queen,  like  Semiramis,  Zenobia,  or  Cleopatra.  She  was  not  a  poetess, 
like  Sappho  ;  nor  a  philosopher,  like  her  neo-platonist  contemporary,  Hy- 
patia,  whose  praises  are  sounded  in  fiction.  She  was  not  a  great  writer, 
like  St.  Catherine  of  Sienna  or  St.  Theresa ;  nor  the  foundress  of  a  re- 
ligious order,  like  St.  Scholastica  or  St,  Clare.  The  Maid  of  Orleans,  in- 
deed, imitated  her  fortitude.  But  the  heroine  of  Domremy,  who  led  the 
armies  of  France  to  victory  and  drove  the  foreign  foe  out  of  its  terri- 
tory, was  older  than  Agnes,  had  the  inspiring  surroundings  of  the  tented 
field  to  sustain  her  courage,  died  for  an  inferior  cause — love  of  country, 
and  not  for  the  pure  love  of  God — and  could  not,  as  Agnes  could,  have 
escaped  death  by  apostasy.  The  human  element  of  martial  boldness 
shines  through  Joan's  coat  of  mail.  Men  admire  her  purity  and  her  enthu- 
siasm, but  they  neither  kneel  at  her  shrine  nor  invoke  her  aid  in  their 
prayers,  nor  did  God  rescue  her  from  the  flames  at  Rouen  as  He  saved  Ag- 


FATHER  BRANN.  775 

nes  at  Rome.  In  Agnes  we  see  nothing  but  the  natural  weakness  of  extreme 
youth  and  of  the  gentler  sex.  But  behind  these  we  see  God,  who  hath 
chosen  "  the  weak  things  of  the  world  that  He  may  confound  the  strong." 
We  see  the  supernatural  power  of  God,  whose  weakness,  says  the  apos- 
tle, "  is  stronger  than  men."  Our  devotion  to  her  is  supernatural  in  all 
its  motives  and  circumstances.  Her  virginity  and  her  martyrdom,  both 
of  which  we  have  shown  to  be  miracles  of  grace,  are  the  magnets  which 
attract  our  souls  to  her  and  draw  our  reverent  bodies  to  her  shrine.  The 
light  of  the  same  religious  faith,  and  of  the  same  divine  charity  for  which 
she  offered  up  her  life,  illumines  our  intellects  and  warms  our  hearts.  Her 
humility  confounds  our  pride ;  her  virtue  shames  our  vices ;  her  fortitude 
abashes  our  cowardice.  Behold  the  spectacle  and  tell  me,  ye  unbelievers, 
if  there  is  any  explanation  of  it  to  be  found  in  mere  human  nature  left 
to  its  own  resources  and  passions  ?  See  this  maiden  passing  down  the 
aisle  of  sixteen  centuries,  carrj'ing  in  her  beautiful  hands  two  standards, 
one  the  white  flag  of  virginal  purity,  the  other  the  crimson  banner  of 
martyrdom,  the  two  cherished  ensigns  of  the  Catholic  Church.  As  she 
moves  along,  powerful  and  learned  pontiffs  take  off  their  triple-crowned 
tiaras,  holy  bishops  lay  aside  their  mitres,  mighty  emperors  and  great 
kings  lay  down  their  sceptres  and  crowns  and  unite  with  millions  of  the 
most  enlightened  portion  of  mankind  in  bending  the  knee  before  her  in 
homage,  invoke  her  intercession,  and  would  deem  it  a  privilege  to  be  al- 
lowed to  kiss  even  the  hem  of  her  garments.  Ah  !  my  brethren,  these 
facts,  which  we  witness  even  still,  this  worship  of  a  simple  maiden  who 
was  put  to  death  sixteen  hundred  years  ago,  has  no  parallel  in  history  out- 
side of  the  order  of  grace.  It  is  a  miracle  of  the  moral  order,  and  we 
know  who  and  what  has  wrought  it.  Its  adequate  explanation  is  found 
in  the  incarnate  Christ  alone.  It  is  the  effect  of  His  divine  power,  a 
blossom  of  that  supernatural  faith  which,  in  the  language  of  the  Council 
of  Trent,  is  "  the  root  and  foundation  of  all  justification."  It  is  another 
proof  of  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  of  His  Church. 

And  so  again  we  hail  thee,  O  Agnes,  thou  miracle  of  grace,  sweet  pa- 
troness of  this  parish  and  of  this  people,  and  say,  blessed  be  thy  name  ! 
Blessed  art  thou,  white  rose  of  the  fourth  century,  turned  into  crimson 
by  thy  own  martyr's  blood.  From  heaven  extend  over  all  of  us  thy 
saintly  hands  in  benediction  !  Bless  £he  fathers  and  the  mothers  of  this 
congregation,  that  they  may  bring  up  their  children  like  unto  thee!  Bless 
the  little  children,  that  they  may  imitate  the  purity  of  thy  life  and  thy 
fearlessness  in  professing  the  faith  of  their  fathers ;  and  bless  him,  too, 
who  to-day  begins  the  duty  of  guiding  this  flock  on  the  narrow  way  that 
leads  to  the  abode  of  the  beatified,  in  which  thou  shinest  as  a  most  brill- 
iant star!  May  the  blessing  of  St.  Agnes  and  of  her  divine  Spouse, 
Jesus  Christ,  descend  on  you  and  abide  with  you  forever!     Amen. 


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